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Not so young Fashion Graduate From National Institute of Fashion Technology (NIFT), Delhi, India. Aspiring journalist. Amongst other eclectic hobbies, she likes writing and has written several poems and articles over her school and college life and now for a living. She would someday like to be be a more popular writer than just on her blogs. 'Tis a lady of grand splendor, who waketh in my bed every morning while the sun beckons her towards night...

Tuesday, February 08, 2011

those ruddy small depressions

i wasnt writing this blog....but then i wrote a reply to one of friends entries and the words just caved in my mind from here and thr.....and just flowed on..rather this time they were like stones.....i wrote the reply...and ive now written almost the same thing in my entry....



"the hollow hooded eyes,
spoke of a sorrow,
of a lost son,
..lost in the insane mirth,
of a worldly war..
the bloodstained letter still
lay clasped,
whether the blood came from the body or the eyes
still remains a mystery in my mind..
i remain thinking of the shadow
who had walked away....
...searching for the 'lie'
the parchment spoke so shamelessly about,
with a salute and a head held high "

wen we pretend that things are alright we build up ouir own strengths....about any thing our lives are going wrong at .
i think people do understand what pain another has...but what they fail to understand is that pain maybe greater than we think it to be....we always think that it cant be greater than our own..thats where we go wrong...
but u know when i go through that phase that "oh im so sad" i do stay sad to a certain level....what consoles me is when i see so many others suffering more than me...wars deaths illness...loss of so many innoscent things.loss of childhood..who cares if i lost one single year in school?...people lost thr all past years living and homes in one tsunami or hurricane....who cares if my bf ditched me for someone more beautiful? if all those civilians in iraq were tortured to insanity....who cares if my parents dont allow me to be with the one i love
....when thousands of children are forcefully aborted in india just coz they were a girl child.. my pain is also a pain...your pain is a pain too....but we have the strength to go through it even by decieving our own selves... but thr grief?...is it even consolable?...hw do u console a girl whose family has been trampled under the earth of gujrat?...how do u console that maulvi who believed in gods mercy all his life, when a bunch of hindu fanatics killed his whole family and burnt his place of worship to dust ?..... you know these are some pains
i dont think ill ever go through.....coz im too positive, or rather im so fearful of them that i cant even face the possibility of this happening.... and yet i cry and shout at god for being unfair to my life....and i realise how small i must be to rant and romp of such little things in life, when i know he has better things planned for me than that small setback..it takes time to realise that..but it does come....and i think it does to you too...right?

dont really remember when i wrote this and where i took the pictures from... but here goes...
and the poem isnt mine either... i think...
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