Posted on February 18, 2012 by Sweta Gyanu Baniya
But I still wait for you to reply without even knowing whether you have been receiving or not receiving those previous mails. So many things make me fused up, things are not as they used to be, people are not as they used to be, change is inevitable my dear but something underneath is changeless: the desperate wait for your reply. I have been waiting, I will be waiting.
I am so inexpressive these days~ Just stuck up somewhere beneath. Feelings boil like water in a kettle, waiting to come outside, but the lid is so tight. I boil myself inside. Writing to you relieves me. Feels like I am talking with you~feels like you are hearing me and with your typical smile responding to my stupidity. Continue reading
Filed under: Inbox (1) Sweta's mail box | Tagged: Letter to a lost friend | 4 Comments »
Posted on February 8, 2012 by Sweta Gyanu Baniya
A blow of wind will rub away these footprints away... (taken by me 🙂
A wind passing through us was separating us, we were burning inside with a fire so hot ~in the darkest night on earth. We walked through the pines ( may not be pines) , in between a nicely paved road which was now being cooled with the serene moon light. Thousands of feet must had stepped over the road that lead straightly to the temple of the goddess of love ~ What were we thinking when we were silently walking when the stars where showering the light along with moon which was working more than a torch light. It was almost dark and we were walking so unknowingly~ I in my own way of my dreams~ Stepping over each petal of dreams and moving ahead to the goddess of love.
But something stops me. I feel annoyed. I fight with myself with something burning in my heart. Nervousness had gripped me, my head. But the soul was fighting to walk more and directed the feet “Walk- Walk” you have to reach to the place where the Goddess was welcoming with an open arm to embrace.
May be his soul directed the same. He was faster than I was.
The wind between us starts to blow very fast, just like the fast breath I was inhaling. I was trying to catch his pace of walking. He walks silently does not looks at me. He was two steps ahead of me. I could see him, his figure in so black and white in the starry night. The sublime starry sky could inscribe our walk there but in the morning it will bid a good bye ~the very morning we also had to bid a goodbye to the road which we had steeped thousands of time.
We changed the direction~ Continue reading
Filed under: Sweta's Fiction Corner | Tagged: Fiction, Story | 2 Comments »