Pages

Monday, 18 July 2011

Missing You



It’s one of those nights,
Loneliness feels not right.
The night breeze kissing my face
And a smile brushing my gaze.
My bed warm and waiting
But no i won’t slide in yet.
My thoughts lingering on you
And all the evenings we had.

The empty chair besides
You would have sat holding my feet
Your fingers playing traces
And a wild joke to complete.
Your eyes holding me whole
While i feel feminine and bold
My laughter heard from afar
The world somewhere far.
Yes its one of those nights
Of sweet whispers and breathes.
The memories playing a happy reel
No, there’s no regrets.

My eyes searched for a star
A thank escaped my lips.
Untamed emotions filled my heart,
Oh, its hard to breathe.
So i wait for the time ,
Where i’ll be in his arms,
The sweet safe haven ,
That feels so damn warm.
Yet this whole time i smiled,
Missing someone can be a sweet divine.

-Gracy

Monday, 4 July 2011

Four Brothers :)


It was a lazy cloudy afternoon. The aftermath of the Rain God who came and drenched the earth with his pee. (what? why does it have to be tears everytime?) i was watching twitter’s timeline and probably fantasising about KFC, bored as usual.. when i saw 4 little boys approaching amidst the tall green grasses from my window. They were like secret agents in a secret mission although they wore shabby cloths with no night vision. Very rarely do i see people wandering in that area so my curiosity was at its peak. They move in slow paces, understanding and co-ordinating as if they have all the time in the world. Then I found out that they were on “The Italian Job” and the job was the “Litchi tree”.


I had to smile at that. I guess almost all of us have very fond memories of thiefing when we were young. Ah, those mischievous carefree days! In a way, these boys were my past. They are in a phase which we all went through at one point of time. The innocent era. The era where u stole a mango from the mango tree and the world forgives, blaming it on naughtiness. Imagine four grown man stealing a mango. They can easily end up in jail if not the mental asylum.

I watch them now and then, stole a quick shot from my non SLR camera. They didn’t have a clue i was peeking into their life. Some stalker i am. The tallest red shirt climbed up the tree. I guess he’s the boss. One white shirt climbed mid ways. Let’s call him the right hand man. The other 2 stayed down and was keeping an eye out. There was a short boy there. The shortest one of any group often get bullied or made fun of. Its the way of the world. And this case was no exception coz after a while, the shortie was sulking.








I dont know their language and i can’t hear them from that far anyways. The shortie walked away. The three called him to stop, making weird noises. Mocking, scolding, loving. He moved but yet close enough to let his friends console him.The red shirt in the tree started to spit in projectile from high up there. I can never be sure of his intentions or whether his body fluid actually hit anyone below. But after what looked to be carefully aimed 5- 7 spits, they were back to being friends. Yes. I love the innocence of a child. Imagine patching up with your bff after he/she spits you. Awkward!!


But here these boys have forgiven and forgotten everything that happened 5min ago because they know the other person cared, as simple as that. Adults misses their childhood, the time of innocence where the mind havent learnt evil world. People are just people then, tall people, short people, thin people, those who give candy people, those who make weird faces people, funny people, or angry people. The only worry they had was about getting a stick for bringing low marks or not getting that gift for birthday. Both of which are easily forgotten while their attention shifted to that multicolored catterpillar at the garden. Yes. Life was simple when we had our parents to look after us.


As we grow up, our ego, pride, self-image, blah blah blah destroyed our simplicity. We became a tight person and the world became our cage. Someday these boys will grow up too..finish high school, a big pressure of choosing which profession they want, then some year in college, then graduate with a job they don’t even like. Tough choice.

Just then my chain of thoughts was interrupted by this old lady yelling. I guess it was her Litchie tree and obviously she wasn’t happy. My guess is, she threatened the kids that she will call her son or perhaps told them she’s going to get her big stick. As soon as she turned her back, the four boys ran like hell and the excited stray dog barked and chased after them.