A Mortal On An Immortal Bridge.

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“Is this your first breath there, or is it your last here?

Who has written your story? Do you know your story? “

I’ll put on a coat now, I’ll tell you stories now.

You could walk with me if you like or turn away

Either way is just fine.

Beneath my coat you won’t find a dress,

Because I’m a perfect mess.

My sweater and my jeans comfort me. Keep me warm.

On the banks of the river, I shall walk.

The trees are giving away,

The leaves now grow old, gracefully.

Red, as though the lord had put in a little bit of fire in them.

They shall burn, they shall give light.

All before they let go.

Of themselves, of forgetting their names.

Someone will take over, they have to.

The bridge will still stand, strong. People will walk.

The benches and public phones will stay.

They’ll always lead to the Eiffel.

Like the bridges in our life. They’ll lead us to where we belong.

Sit under that tree, oh! It’s beautiful.

“Linden”; It’s name.

Every step on that path shouts love and purity.

That’s how our lives should feel.

You, your loved one(s)

Happiness. Purity.

Beauty. Eternal love.

Sit on that bench,

Upon your head will you see, the tree smiling at you

Guarding you, protecting you

Like your innocence, and childhood.

As though it’s blessing you.

Its leaves the shape of a heart.

God’s the best writer,

You don’t have to have a private plane,

And you don’t have to have a grand wedding.

It’s all there.

Nature has it all, laid out for you.

Life’s not a burden, it’s not a game.

He sent you down, to be a part of him.

To marvel at his works of perfection,

The one we, mortals would never create.

Sit there, look at that river

Breathe.

Breathe the air that brings life

Not the one that causes cancer.

He may not be your soul mate,

He may not be your brother,

Not even your father.

She may not be your sister,

Maybe not your mother,

But embrace them,

Embrace them all.

Those who stand by you, hold their hand.

Take a while,

Walk with them.

Not in metro’s, not in the office, not on Skype

But in real life.

Feel the touch of human skin,

The supple creation, designed to comfort.

How does it feel?

To know you have the warmth on the cold winter night?

Maybe that’s why this road was made,

Probably why it was never the same.

Maybe the leaf of the tree over your head will eventually fall,

And tree will one day have new leaves,

But it will always.

Life goes on.

And it’s okay to sit there, pamper yourself

Let the tree and its leaves heal you,

To hold the hand of those you love,

Before your journey ends,

Till you reach your destination.

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His tomorrow, that never came

“Maa!”  ; He shouted as loud as he could, but his voice did not seem to reach….

His body was giving up slowly and his breath sucked in as he desperately tried to coo a voice. A sudden realization hit him as he figured the screams were now only in his head as memories and flashes from his past dragged along.

He wanted something but he couldn’t decide what, his wind pipe now plunged as though a rope had conquered it. He wanted to live, undoubtedly!

A rush of pain and happiness swept through his body as he pictured that sweet comforting face smiling at him, and holding him. “It would her hurt her to see me this way” he thought but he figured her tears might heal his wounds, seizing his pain!  As seconds passed by he realized, He wanted, needed and craved for his mother more than anything, even oxygen!

Only then as he was lying there, somewhere, waiting till his paralyzed body and suffocating breath gave up.  He finally closed his eyes, because he had now learnt that in this no moon night among the thorns and bushes only the dreams of his mother could pacify him.

Carried away by the remembrance of her scent he wished she could pat him to sleep just like she used too, this time, for an eternal one. For the next morning no matter how much she would try and wake him, he wouldn’t.  He still believed that she would probably kiss him hoping that it would wake him up.

Or maybe, just maybe he would wake up and realize it was a bad dream.

His innocence, his love, his faith lied so deep within. Only if he got the chance to show it!

No matter how much he wished, he finally concluded this was it, this was reality, and he had been stabbed till he couldn’t count the number of times. Just for a few bucks or maybe old rivalry but that hardly mattered now that his life was gone, faded in front of his eyes.

Last night when he had argued with his family, and ignored his girlfriend and insulted his friends he obviously dint know this was it.

Now he longed,Image

For his mother’s sweet song.

The thorns ripped him,

As he took his last breath

Begged for forgiveness for whatever sin..

but his tomorrow never came!