Microsmos

As every hour and every day Keeps clickin and tickin... One more we add In blacks and whites And more than fifty shades of grey. Life's so short, As they all say. But to make it long, Why should we pay? In rolls of hearts Broken into songs, Or In quarters of minds Flayed in by thoughts? As every hour and every day Sails past far from bay... We shovel it deep An inch farther and farther And water it down As the sun goes south From the oceans of eyes To the curves of my mouth. Another one burried. Another one sowed. And out it blossoms All in red, Another brand new regret. So one more I add In this hour and in this day Coz, even if it's sour, Is life really life, Without regrets that make you pay?

In the beginning, was a girl.  And the girl was with a society. And the girl was society. Then shit happened. Sorry, life - life, happened. So you know, how you were all brought up with certain ideologies and principles - instilled in the bringing up process? So was she. She had a rule book. A solid hardbound, brown, mouldy, giving off the classic old book smell - rule book. A book that she knew where to look for, in case any dire situations arise. What situation, you may ask. Let's say, she comes across her classmate dating a guy. Her mind probes the book and finds the appropriate situation worthy reaction - Aiyooo, what a whorish behaviour. She doesn't say it but all the same, thinks it and then feels good about being the moral bitch. But then she ages. Gracefully and eh, let's put it there, quite beautifully. All the while, she reads too. From Enid Blyton and Nancy Drew, as her library grew, her rule book started to whither. Individuality. Independence. Boundaries.

We will let it hang Hang it in to the darkest doors. For light, my friend, in not my friend; It was high time that I made it foe. We will let it hang Without hasty byes to fill the space. Edging past the fears we face, Telling ourselves, 'It's just a phase'. We will let it hang Hanging by that single thread Made of all the dreams we lead Broken by the things unsaid. We will let it hang Filled empty by the words we minced. All the lost chances To atone our sins, We will let it hang In silence.

Career. To make the ends meet And To sit in the driver's seat. Should we make the daily run? Just to see the morning sun? Passion. To feel that fire At Your heart's desire. Should we, maybe, shovel it deep? And not let a drop of it to seep? Love. To just part away from logic And Be swept away by magic. Oh, could this run our lives? And not just be parting good-byes?

Abdullah and Pari. Idris and Timur. Nabi and Wahdati. Parwana and the twin sister. And I swear there's at least one more side story that I'm missing here. And The Mountains Echoed by Hosseini takes the readers back to the sunny rogue lands of Afghanistan only to tour Europe and US later. It tells us the stories of siblings and their complicated relationships, which for all the sane reasons seemed way too forced and artificially built up. Around six side stories introduces the readers to how six different pairs of people can be siblings in six different ways. Hmm, she is my friend. And we aren't related by blood, but know what, she's my sister! Well, he is technically my cousin, but he is as close as a brother to me. Fyi, I hate him though. She's my twin! He's my employer and am his driver. Uh, we could be siblings eh? One could sense the efforts that the author had taken to bring in as many ways that two ppl can be thought of as siblings as possib

Let's run away... Run away, Afar and alone To the walls of silence And forgotten stones. Let's run away... To the oceans deep Where tides are none And tears can seep. Let's run away... Into the deep dark woods Where no creatures sound With no soul around. Let's run away, friend... Into our past lands Through sands of time And our entwined hands.