Broken

He wondered what he did wrong. Why she walked all over his heart. But since she was the one who broke it in the first place, the pieces would cut her deep and first.

- S. Chaudhary

Your ghosts

You are alive but now just a memory for me. Decades of countless memories, of a life spent with you, piled up like rotting corpses at the back of my mind. Wherever I go I carry your ghosts with me. I ran as far away from you as my feet would take me. Yet at the far end of the world, I found you living inside of me.

- S. Chaudhary

With You. And lonely

Her voice was trembling, her hands were shaking and her knees were weak. It was difficult for her to open up and speak. Her heart beat so fast she thought it would stop, the pit of her stomach quivering. With a lump in her throat she managed to speak her deepest fears, her darkest memories. Never had she dared to bring down her walls but she thought he had an empathic ear, an understanding heart. Worried she might lose her voice and not finish her sentences but somehow they were complete. She waited with bated breath wondering what his response would be. He turned around and smiled reassuringly. Then said it’s no big deal! Let’s go grab something to eat. That is the painful moment that it finally dawned upon her, she is not lonely because of lack of company.

- S. Chaudhary

Tears

All of the unshared resentments, all of the broken dreams, all the lost hopes and love, the unspoken pain and disappointments, found a voice, a release. Transparent and pure like the emotions that caused them, flooding the eyes, they silently fell and screamed, a story that words could never reveal.

- S. Chaudhary

You don't deserve her

The tragedy of a beautiful, smart woman is that she is desired by countless men, hopelessly fantasizing if she was their girl whereas she belongs to an idiot who doesn't realize her true value...till she leaves him.

- S. Chaudhary

No Idea

She woke up, filled a coffee mug and turned her computer on. Strange! Not a single idea today, what do I write? She stared at the blank page and the blank page stared back at her. Intimidating, like threatening to swallow her into a white nothingness. She stared back with equal determination, sipping hot coffee from her mug. With each sip she tried to birth an idea internally but the idea Gods were just not with her today. Gripped with horror, what if I cannot write anymore? What if I have no ideas? She gulped the coffee, mixed with terror and looked for answers on the empty page in front of her. This is a blank canvas and now what picture do I paint here she thought? Should I build an entire exotic city here or a crazy character? Should I write about imaginary ghosts, fierce beasts or just the story of a sweet child? The coffee was getting over but she hadn’t even started. And sip after sip till her mug ran empty she suddenly realized that she was indeed full of ideas. The exotic city, the ghosts, the beasts, the crazy, the child – not one but many ideas! Armed with the keyboard she started creating the many worlds. Out of a blank page. Out of nothing. Out of no idea.

-          S. Chaudhary

 Images courtesy Google Images