Shikha was always perplexed by the kind of writing she had developed over years. Not one of the places where she would generally feel like writing. She was not sure, but the more she travelled , the more she got scared of the unknown. Her inhibitions were so modern that she really felt a misfit in any other content. She could feel like an outsider in her own country. There she was trying to discover, and yet getting perplexed. It was easier to romanticize and difficult to comprehend. Or she just dint want to comprehend.
She hated youth book s ending. Platonic. As though nothing was true or atleast worth.
She hated white walls. She never could understand the reason behind it. She did not want a psychoanalytical answer for that .Nothing , empty, blank. Or was it just the idea of a ‘ no colour’. No passion , this idea further added to her hatred.
So was the sky and yet she loved it. She loved the plain white clouds.
It was difficult now to walk aimlessly , to imagine , to smile. Suddenly she felt those eyes which were blind for her before. She was becoming lazy in her dreams. It was so difficult to see herself fading away. She did not want to resort to anyone. They all wanted to pull something down. But how long would the conflict help ?> it would either merge or submerge one day .
She liked the idea of huts and the idea of sitting inside it and having soup. And paint those fences. Have a house and sleep on the floors. She could see her language dwindling away but her mind understood her. God’s silence. Should she be quiet ? but the twins kept talking …
Was it the fear of lonliness … na… but it was a different genre. She did not have a word for it .
But it did exist ,when the mind goes numb and one hears a howl .
She hated youth book s ending. Platonic. As though nothing was true or atleast worth.
She hated white walls. She never could understand the reason behind it. She did not want a psychoanalytical answer for that .Nothing , empty, blank. Or was it just the idea of a ‘ no colour’. No passion , this idea further added to her hatred.
So was the sky and yet she loved it. She loved the plain white clouds.
It was difficult now to walk aimlessly , to imagine , to smile. Suddenly she felt those eyes which were blind for her before. She was becoming lazy in her dreams. It was so difficult to see herself fading away. She did not want to resort to anyone. They all wanted to pull something down. But how long would the conflict help ?> it would either merge or submerge one day .
She liked the idea of huts and the idea of sitting inside it and having soup. And paint those fences. Have a house and sleep on the floors. She could see her language dwindling away but her mind understood her. God’s silence. Should she be quiet ? but the twins kept talking …
Was it the fear of lonliness … na… but it was a different genre. She did not have a word for it .
But it did exist ,when the mind goes numb and one hears a howl .
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