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Untitled Chapters of Life

Ruchira Biswas blog

To Ending Chapters…

Do the yellow pages at the back of your diary know me by now?

Do the ink stains right down your ripped pockets whisper my name mutely?
I unwind the string back and again to find myself drowning in the question of “Maybe”-s while getting soaked in the drops of “Almost”.
Might not be the fading glitter in the narrow alleys of your mind or the dying splinter at the end of your cigarette , but I am that last metaphor rising as a phoenix from the paradox of your Existence.
Might not be the receding shades of darkness around the contours of your eyes or the untamed strands of your hair, but in your those novice strokes on the canvas, I am the unfinished color on the palette.
And now when the typewriter stops, I look at the bleeding lines above . The writer inside me sighs placidly.’ It is not the far cry of Literature within me but the breathes of a dying character that makes me write.’
The character that I am going to meet in another story.
Where the Ignorance between us today will turn to Love again.

…But Mum,We both grew up!

I was just Five then. And I remember the date from your diary, 12th of July, when I called out to you for the first time. Muffled up, with my toothless smiles following that most adored word of ages….

In the stillness of ourselves, I stared back at your glowing face which held a page in front of me incessantly asking,” Don’t you know what these are? ” 

But, the pool of crayons skirting me amazed me more than the escalating annoyance your eyes reflected.

I grew up so did your frustration with me.

My cousins went to the choir while I was locked with toys in my room.

My imprudence never questioned a Mother’s weakness then.

Because I knew, my grades were bad. My English was distorted. And all the rhymes used to crouch down under the grey cells the moment I was on stage. The numericals hated me as well. All you were left with complaint slips and red marks on the copies and on my cheeks. 

Remember, those moonless nights when I silently watched you cry . I felt your cold hand from under the blanket. I knew I was the reason. Numberless ways but it was me. 

But, mother I was growing up…

I was twelve when you burnt my paintings. I was just a passionate youth of sixteen, when I looked up to you as others bullied but nothing but your Silence spoke. You made me  love Solitude. And I was finally eighteen, when the teacher wanted me to join that club.One that could have moulded  my life.

Yet again. Your annoyance won.

That night. We slept beneath the wordless cover of grievances. At ourselves and against each other.

Each time you tried. So did I. Failure was only we both received.

Yet. Unlike you, I had a reason which you refused to accept.

You altered the definition of ” Mother ” for me. Where pages of your diary ended, mine started. Where motherhood collapsed, my world began its flight with unpinned wings. 

Remember, the time I told you that I was in love. You laughed. Laughed until tears sprang out from those unforgiving glances. That day, I felt it was better to confide things to a stranger than you. Maybe that person will realize that neither the shrinking wit of an adult nor the dirty  hemline of my pant matters. 

And 12th of July again I failed. My school scraped me. I was sitting on one side of bed when you threw those reports on me asking ,” Why you? Why not the remaining four? ”

The adolescent teen rebelled within me, screaming those unheard words.

Those tracks of time when you need your Mom to navigate you but you left the ship before letting me set the sail. 

I just wanted to imbibe one thing in you and Papa,” Let me live! ” 

Let, not my life be measured in the inches of your beating stick or the mercury of my grades. Let, me soak for once in the other colors of the rainbow.

You and I just became two atomies in that house where none lived with or for other. But, your diary suggested that you still care for me….

Maybe you did when you used to silently enter my room and turn off the lights.

Maybe you didn’t when you refused to attend my exhibition. I was 23 then. Searching for my forgotten childhood to peep through your eyes in the crowd on my big day.

Life seemed to have decided some other ways. An untrodden path for me to walk on.

And a year now, I work for the club that you didn’t let me be in then. Club that helps children with learning disabilities. 

Today when you will read the letter, you might be proud of the child that you always wanted me to be . Or that of the painter who crystallised out of the those imperfections you hated within me.


Today when you will see the letters are properly placed. ‘ B ‘ is no more written backwards. ‘C ‘ isn’t upside down. 

And now I can spell many words including tough ones like, ” Dyslexia ” 

I was unlike the remaining four. But, Mom I had a reason. 

You couldn’t love me like the others. Did you have a reason?

Even today, you might consider it all an excuse . But, my life always resided in the colors on the canvas , not in words. 

I know motherhood can’t die a blunt end. A month from now, I am going to be twenty four. And I want to rediscover childhood for the last time with you..

Together we were in this battle of dyslexic mind of mine. 

Now, when I am emerging as a Victor, I want you to be with me.

Mom, today I know what these letters were…

AND WHO STAYED!!

A star studded night with the  aroma of the soaked coffee beans imbibing into your veins. Cloudless sky and imperfect strangers never failed to make a perfect date for me. 
So was it that day. The margin of difference lied in this uncanny fact that I have never seen those strangers before yet each time they spoke , it felt like both were calling out to me like old friends reuniting after days.Only one  face could be seen whereas both the figures traced out prominently in front of me. 

I was so dissolved in their strange familiar mystery that I didn’t even try to dissect their existence . And the conversation had started like this,”So, people are talking about you?” 

He winked viciously and stared at me with a blatant reply,” You will know better. Won’t you?”

Caught in a paradoxical maze, I looked into the other one on my left searching for answers in his glances but he only smiled,” You are shrewd. Go for one, leave the other” 

My quest seemed to reach blunt ends and I finally ranted out,”Who are you both?What do you know about me?How can you just…” 

I could only see their lips moving punctuating their pacified smiles and widening eyebrows.

Taking a sip of coffee, he again starts off,” So, you do realize now, that we both exist with you in this parallel world. There is nothing strange.”

I murmured to myself repeatedly ,”There is nothing strange in their...familiarity…in their presence! Nothing…”

My eyelids felt heavy, pushed from an infinitely broken tower of guilt. I frantically searched for them now to help myself out of this sphere. 

When I finally heard that tone again flowing down from a distance, I ran towards it until my knees were chafed. Lips were parched.

“ One of us stayed with you”,smiled that silhouette figure.

“ Which of the two from there? Life or Death?”, I asked in the muffled voice.

From that morning onwards, I still don’t know which of the two returned with me from that date. 

Life?

Or Death in the mask of Life?

Beauty of Ruins 

I  went back there along the long forsaken path. The storm has become silent now and a whispering zeaphyr was kissing those perspiring beads on my forehead.
Ashes of Love smeared the fallen flowers, the fragrance was lost in the grains of Time . The faded shades of it were as if narrating tales to those deserted branches~ tales of the time they weren’t mere flowers, but also somebody’s gesture of professing Love.
The path took me into that Palace of Isolated Metaphors.
A huge colossal gate that remained partly opened.
A slight push and with a harrowing sound of those rusted ridges, it retorted back. 
And my steps got affixed there.

It has been six months now. But the smell of the tear-kissed earth there hasn’t changed. 

The Columns of Memories. 

The Arch of Hopes. 

Those incomplete inscriptions on it that were slowly getting piled under the stack of bitterness. 

And few Murmuring voices that formed a halo around the King’s Throne.

I listened carefully – that unknown familiarity of promises once made and quotes exchanged as if created a dizzy spell on me.The spell of Solitude.
With measured steps, I counted the stairs upto that Throne. Dust has taken shelter in the creases now, hindering the shine.
The expanse of my hands traced the contours of it . I wanted to rest it totally unperturbed, but as if my somebody was iterating in my ears.
Behind those towering walls,where cries rented the air,  I found a figment of my previous self , adoring  the pattern on  the broken tiles.
Her hands were bound with the shackles of Time as she rested her temple on the stack of unread letters and misread scribbles. Of blotted confessions that were heard but never felt…A part I lost to be never found again.
I saw that tireless glitter in her glances still waiting against the Horizon for Him to return. For him to realise that Stories don’t die in the momentary grave of Falsehood, it rests in those timeless glances of Love…
Lost  in my haze of thoughts that I retraced my steps. Shifting through those decaying walls of fantasy, I slowly saw the contours of the crouching figure disappear.
And down the Lines of Destiny, I reached the other side of the palace . The Labyrinth of Memories lay desolate there, with stains of His shadow still duplicating his presence…
The wings with which I once soared in the delusion of Love seemed to be crushed now. I giggled at my imprudence, my eyes were still searching for Him…

The expanse of the Palace ends there.

So do the Stories meet their punctuations forever.

Retracing my steps, I tried to go near that lost figment of myself. Striking one futile try to take her back and imbibe into Present.

But with each step, she seemed to travel away from Me. And in that unfathomable void of Love, I lost her again…and again!!
Uncanny yet enticing. 
Disowned yet nostalgic. 

That was the essence of that Palace, 

that I return again and again !

Integrated Forever #Part 3

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Hesitantly she murmured,” Your beauty is difficult to accept! “

 And the grip loosens!!

As those words charred the gates of his heart, she drew him close.The breaths fell on her face and the wet smell of his hair marinated her senses.

He looked up,benumbed, ” But my unacceptable self has loved you in ways unknown to you.Didn’t you accept that?

Reclining against his chest,she gushed,” In ways known to you, I have cherished it always.
But, they…

The cloak of dusk over the park suddenly aroused her reflexes, ” I need to leave.Its late.We will ecide some other day.”

But he didn’t let the grip loosen, ” Stay! Just Stay!”

Today, its either Me.Or You.Or None! ”

That condensed baritone made her follow her steps back to Him.An unassuming figure stood in front of her then,soaked in Love.

“If I say,They are bound to surrender every grain of you and accept my beauty. Will You stay?

If I say, We will create a world away from the cries of this Universe. Will You stay, Forever? “

She prompts, ” Nothing lasts Forever!

Adjusting a twig in her hair, his lips widened, ” Let this be exception to that rule. I ask again, Will you?

I will. As many times you ask Me.”

And She shouted like none hearing with an infectious elation,“I will!”

And the two figures kissed, enveloped in an unconcerned attraction.

As Another Human soul passed into Oblivion then on this Earth.
Such is the romance between Life and Death.
Unaccepatable yet Infalliable.

Difficult yet Inseaparable!

______________________________________
That was the last part of Integrated Forever. A tale of romance between two personified unassuming figures, LIFE and DEATH.
The entire concept behind this tale , this is the brainchild of my closest friend, Yajushi.

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Her words and help had made this blog more beautiful, so sharing her presence  with you readers.

Integrated Forever #Part 2

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“They never want our souls to converge and..”

With a cold shrug, he looked at her and abruptly planted a kiss on her tear soaked eyes, ” Hey! Shhh!! Stop exhausting your mind. Feel the  Love, not their words!” And he giggled.

” It’s not funny always. They want you Gone. Like Gone Forever from here ! ” 

Like the flare of a fallen meteor she jolted back, exasperated,

” Why do you desperately delay the flight of Reality? There are colossal walls all around Me. So around You. ”

He meekly repeats,” Can’t we dissect them? And please do away with these Victorian thoghts . ”  

” Each time We do, some other demon encages Me.Their care suffocates Me, strangles my voice that my shouts drown inside! I am blamed for everything. I just…just… ”

And she collapsed on the ground, frozen like a statue.

Insolently he stands afar, trying to bury the pain,” I don’t believe these.It has been years.These questions die every such evening, and we are back together.Always!”

Etching her name inattentively on the tree bark,like a forlorn warrior he retorted ” They want you to feel the sunshine. Not Me.The shroud of black. Isn’t it? 
I am just a dark envelope for your keepers. And you are not ready to leave them. Why?Just Why ?” 

Leaving it incomplete he pulled her up,skirting his hands around her waist, hysterically questioned,

Am I not a new Horizon for you?
What’s difference when I make love and the others do the same?
Why is my Darkness a Delusion of Love?
And why is the preceeding Light only your Destiny,but  not Ours?

 She has never seen him this way. So apprehensive and full of questions. 

Tracing the tired lines of his face with the expanse of her palm,she looked into those intrusive glances.Hesitantly she murmured,” Your beauty is difficult to accept! ”

 And the grip loosens!

( One more part to go, to finally see who they are. Stay tuned!)

Integrated Forever #Part1

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Comforting in the warm crouch of her lap, a languid glow dyed his face as she buoyantly narrated how her ways and gestures have shuffled since the time they have known each other.
He sensed that undertone of fear that laced her voice along with those sighs. Keeping aside her fluent strands,he whispered, “I won’t leave you. I will take you with me.Always!”

Momentary smiles exchanged.

And the knitted fingers tightened! 
Two figures camouflaged in the shadow of the tree against the radiance of the Sun; with discordant quarrels borrowing the Silence, interlaced with Love!

One refused. Other pleaded. 
One pushed away. Other retracted. 
While one cried out his childish demands, the  other avoided them.

Nature said it was an Unique paradox when their worlds merged ~
Silent yet oral through their glances ; Imperfect yet flawless passion braiding it.

That day wasn’t as effortless as the other romantic evenings.

Though their arms were entwined there was something that both wanted to say, until she unveiled those words, ” Can I say something? I mean only if you want to hear!” 
He dragged her below the umbrella and softly said, “I have never refused to listen. Your words breath love. Say!” 

She blushed in fiery hues of red,with a slight delay, she uttered,” Don’t u think none in this world want Us to be together?”
” They never want our souls to converge and..”

Circle of Hope

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I can trace the Light
Of the blanket of fireflies in the woods
But I can’t run towards it.
Because as soon I reach there,
the swarm would disperse
The flies would scatter
Like the Fragments of a Burning Sun.
And the Hopes would dissolve
In the Darkness of the pitch black room
With the film of the Moon’s Silver.

And like the smashed flower in the sidewalk,
Beneath the cloudless sky,
Even I will sing the anthem of disdain.
Fill the evening air with mute sighs

But then again
I will travel with the rustle of leaves
To another season of Hopes
where fallen angels will soar
Birds will echo in harmony
The misty delusion will dilute
And like a phoenix
I will again rise with this thought…
Maybe beyond this moment of tears,
Dreamers will again breathe!

Darkness, the Only Listener!

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The curtains fall.
While one play wraps up , another begins.
The protagonist waits,
with parched soul and chafed lips.
For me to ingnite the act.

Abandoning those unheard scripts
And weakly rehearsed lines, I start my monologue.
The monologue of Solitude.
To the only listener of all times.
Darkness!
And only, Darkness it is.
The exponent of the narrative.

And there the Unknown Me rises
From the ashes of the extinct tales
And the ruins of my unwanted fears.

Then I take the stage,
Harmonise the orchestra with the heart’s ballad.
And effortlessly potray the Stories.
Stories…
Of those incessant battles within my mind.
The unhindered riot of choices.
That melting spectrum of emotions.
And of those infinite futile attempts,
To present an unbrittle self to the disowned world…

They are the Stories of the Times,
When the Dusk has set in,
And the new Dawn is yet to arrive!
With my city sleeping peacefully,
Leaving behind few sleepless forlorn souls.
Who are there,
But Never there for Me.

And when those night winds erratically hug me,
Merge with my rolling tears,
Pushes me deeper and deeper
Into that profound void of gruesome Emptiness.
Only for me to rewind those words again,
‘ I am alone. Forever Alone ‘
With only Darkness beside Me!

I rest in the blanket of Darkness.
Assured.
That my Stories will be lost in her infinity,
To be never found again.
Certain.
That unlike their false promises
Her silence will always stay.
Because that is what is left,
When they leave me behind, in ruins.

The curtains drift apart now.
As Darkness recedes backstage,
I return among those black and white souls.
To Die Again!!

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