The Remnants

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

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.

The most beautiful and the last one only that was left, I lost that as well. I have been habituated to losing and I was wholeheartedly concerned for taking care of the last piece in the crayon box of my life.

The last crayon: the filler of all other crayons: one such color that filled the vacant pages with such a color that it made life extra beautiful. Definitely, the last one was the most precious one. May be because if the last one was lost then I knew the box of life will remain vacant forever. No other crayons can replace it, I know. No other crayons can fill the color in the black and dark shade of my life.

I forgot may be in the colors that the last crayon painted in the life ~so beautiful that someday I can or might lose the only crayon of my life. But truth is there- even if you accept or not, truth remains truth. The existence of the crayon is not there- cruel reality. The crayon box of life is vacant~unacceptable pain. The box is vacant. Vacant. Vacant. When there is nothing, there is nothing. Regaining of the crayons ? ~impossible. Lost. Lost. Lost.

The Remnants ~ the vacant box. So, vacant.

Enough losing…Now perhaps nothing to lose expect the box itself.


2 Responses

  1. i love to read your writings all the time. specially i prefer monologues….
    bcoz lotzs of things (thoughts) run in my mind and i cud not handle it most of the time…
    & you transform the feelings into words in such a beautiful manner… it touch my heart, makes me nostalgic…. may be that is the reason i love to prefer reading monologue more among other writings.
    (hajurko sabai writings touchy hunxa)

  2. Thank you Sharmila, means a lot- will help me write more

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