She lay there, among a cascade of sheets, hands
behind her head and ankle carelessly crossed; Days old red nail-polish chipping
off. The fan whirs above too loud for
the quiet that surrounds her, the lights too harsh for her seemingly serene
moments, the atmosphere to formal for her casual posture. She sits in a place
too unlike herself… too formal. Her mind is another place to be, nothing like
her posture or the décor around; it’s mayhem of thoughts, a turmoil of ideas
replaced every moment, flipping out of grasp, exploding volcanoes of colors,
rainbows of events, chaos of recollection. Such serene moments.
-Momina.
picture source : http://www.facebook.com/Urbah.V.Photography?fref=ts
Beautiful! Exceptionally beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThank you Joy, It's always a pleasure to read your feedback! :)
DeleteI love this piece it is so skilfully written, it took my interest in the first line. I hope she was not dead?
ReplyDeleteThank you very much! No not dead, if that'd be the case, I don't think her mind would be such a place to be! :)
Deletewhat matters is these are serene moments :)
ReplyDeleteI really liked reading this. Your descriptions were captivating.
ReplyDeleteThank you Meehad! Hope to see your comments again.
Delete