The Remnants

Lost are the crayons of life, it seems so dark and vacant it looks like.

It is the sketch of a different tale. Something I would probably wouldn’t want to write it in any day. But the truth is I am writing. May be I am writing because I am bound to give the shape to the rumblings of heart by recording of the its sound. Where else

can the voice of the heart can be recorded else if it is not transcribed? The voice of heart you all have stopped to respond ~ calls, sms, emails ~should I wait for them when you have stopped to respond to the voice of heart?

I dreamed of you all. I dreamed of you all drifting away, fleeting away and going away one by one. I never wanted to face this in real life. But see I am facing it and surviving through it. May be resisting because I want to change the situation. I so badly want to change the situation because I want you all back again in my life. But it will be impossible to find something that is lost deliberately. One by one I lost my crayons.