Nomadic Musings

The curtains closed Of my expectations, On Sunday evening. I realized People care more About their time only. Because all of my plans got canceled. As usual, The thought of Monday morning Haunted me. It all went lazy, as expected. I was late for work All over again. On Tuesday and Wednesday, I had less work. So, I wrote a few verses and kept them in my journal only, As I always do. I ordered food, On Thursday; For lunch. And had it all alone. Because I didn't want to share "The Biryani" Yaay! It was Friday again. Excited all day, I made a to-do-list for the weekend. I watched my favorite TV series till 2 am, On Friday Night. Saturday it was. It all went to bed, almost. And I didn't even tick anything off From my to-do-list. This Sunday, I am not making any plan. I am going to read My favorite novel, All over, again.

The first person I met in hell is one of my old classmates who once killed a butterfly. I told her not to, but she did. Now she sings, Sitting in the chair, alone. Second one is The Pizza maker. Who once put the thinnest mozzarella layer on my favourite pizza. Third is, My Boss. Who always left me in a state of hopeless despair, No matter what. Now everyone yells at him. Fourth one is, That one uncle who always used to Taunt me about my short hair. Now he is the barbour of hell. And the fifth is The shop-owner of the new shop, which replaced my favourite Golgappa place. Now he sells some ugly things over there. You would think, Why am I here? I once wished, all these people should go to hell.

In a farm full of sunflowers, There was a breeze of warmth With no fix direction. Sunflowers were standing strong; in rows and coloums, Just like yellow horizon. They always, somehow surprise me. With their yellowish part, they inspire me to shine, no matter how dark matter I surround. Their "not so bright" middle portion tells Even if  you belong to the brightest side, someday, your that side will be accompanied by the darker one. Sunflowers hold so many stories within themselves. But they always turn their back to darkness; And eyed at sun. Sunflowers ; Deeply rooted in grounds, stand tall and strong. They are an epitome of hope. Even if sunshine goes away, Sunflowers will smell like it.

There is this box in my room on my work table full of blank postcards and sticky notes. Whenever I sit on the chair near that table I feel like Writing letters to everyone regarding their place in my life. I feel like putting all those sticky notes all over my room Not to remind things to myself but to write all the good words that come to my mind So that , I can use them in my poems whenever I want. I really feel like doing this. But the heap of files Kept in front of that box Liquidate my desire Everytime. And there is this box in my room Full of blank postcards and sticky notes Stays there, as it is.

Because that morning, I could not find my favorite novel Near my pillow. Restless, Scared, and with watery eyes; I started searching for it Everywhere. The first tear rolled down my cheeks, With my most favorite quote in my head from it, I sat on my bed, helplessly. Crumbling under the weight of fear of losing that novel, My heart started beating faster. "Big deal! Buy it again." You would say. I know, I can buy it again. But it won't come up with the quotes that are underlined; my musings on page number seventy-five, Sketches were drawn near my favorite incidents ; and with the end that I wrote there, In a way that I wanted; In my own handwriting. And I don't know, If I will be able to complete five hundred and seventy-six pages ; In a day. I really don't know.

Stars follow some patterns, And so do we. Yes! What if I say that We belong there. Everyone of us go up there , and be one of them; once we are dead. Don't laugh! My grannie told me this once; and I trust her. Because now she is one of them, And she shines above my head, every night. She went there to tell me, Why do we go there? I waited for her But she didn't come back. Don't worry. I got my answers; by looking at her. We go there, to find out What went wrong, Throughout our lives. We look down, At other's life; And regret about how and when we did hurt them . We go there, To be a part of constellation, In order to meet people In star form, to whom ; We were supposed to meet In our lives. We go there; To shine. and sometimes; After being a star , We fall down. To fulfill someone's wish. Yes! Everyone of us go there.