As The World Went On Without Them...

A hundred followers. Thank you, all! I am grateful to you all for reading and appreciating! 

For my sisters. 

There is something increasingly tranquil about sitting inconspicuously in a corner, from where you can view everyone, but draw little attention to yourself. Notice people, approaching or going their own ways, watching people, noting their ways. And just like that they sat there, two, who couldn't be more different, peacefully looking out to the world as it went on around them, without them.

There is something extremely joyous about walking bare foot on the wet grass, as you feel the green tingling your feet, under the night sky as you roam aimlessly, wandering off before turning to face the world again. You are so close to nature, so earthy, so content. And just like that, they walked those slightly damp lawns. Three pair of feet, wandering away but together, three pairs of shoes hooked on each one’s hand, as the world went on behind them, without them.

There is something awfully hilarious about being cross with the world, how one shuts himself, secluding, feigning ignorance to all those around. But actually they stare, inwardly they laugh, and how beautiful if you can share! And just like that, they lay there, four faces so dissimilar, lost in a world of their own that they share. They curse the darkness that has come with the hurricane yet connected them all in a way they haven’t been in a while. And so they share, four perspectives so unlike as they make a vision identical as the world goes on, outside, without them.

There is something exceptionally beautiful about sitting together sharing a personal joke and taunting one another. It’s about being so close, knowing the other well enough, that jokes don’t hurt and funnier they seem with every minute, no matter how pointless they are. And just like that they laughed, a chorus of five distinct giggles, making the most of these shared moments, the late night forgotten. They chuckle and chortle as the world sleeps about them, without them.

-Momina.

Slipping Away

Little by little as all subsides, I hold onto the familiar space, 

Walking on a similar pace, Letting everything go. 

Little by little.

Second by second it slips away, blurring into an abyss, 

So dark it becomes, unknown to eyes, disappearing into a void. 

Second by second. 

Page by page, as the memories flood, meaningless, 

Don’t they become? Fading are the words that adorned the sheets. 

Page by page. 

Color by color, they wash away, losing charm as they become, 
Nothing other than hidden grays. Pale and dreary, as if they decay. 

Color by color. 

Skin by skin, bone by bone, the muscles chew off as nothing I form. 

A carcass of naught that now rests, only in deeds, only in minds. 

Thought by thought. 

-Momina.

This Was I, Today.

Today I burn. 

I burn with intensity of love and what not. 

I evaporate in the silence, 

I am written in words. 

Then I become the very hands 

That tears apart the pages filled. 

I die as I cry, I love as I die.

I scroll down, I read, I cry and I love. 

I sit in the early morning silence, when most have left for work and the remaining have yet to stir. So, here I make the most of the tranquil surrounding that hardly come by. Revelation after revelation dawns upon me, as the words echo in the stillness, shattering and sustaining the peace. It’s brilliant how two opposites can exist in harmony. But that’s not for now to ponder about. This is how I feel. Thoughts are bombarded at me; explosions take place in the quiet aura around me. There is too much to ponder over, flipping, one after the other in a sort of comfortable misery. They die down, they rise. They exist and they perish. They flicker like a candle, varying in intensity. Yet they all make sense somehow even in the chaos that is them. 

It’s been almost five hours since I’ve been sitting here. I only got up once to see if there were any clouds in the sky. There were none. However, that did not cause me any disappointment today. So I sat back down in the company of silence, chocolate, thoughts and poetry. 

Poetry, I always just wrote it. I started writing only because my younger sister used to write. Somewhere in the middle it became who I am. And I had never really read much apart from mine and her. I used to skip the poetry session in the magazines to read the stories. Somehow, somewhere, I found poetry, I found solace. I read it in papers, I read it on blogs, I read it in books. And then there were people who introduced me to some beautiful poetry by some incredible writers (Thank you). I read. I loved. And today as I sat before my laptop, nibbling on the chocolate I bought yesterday and reading these amazing works of poetry I somehow knew how to appreciate it, cherish it and find the hidden meanings in their folds. I related. I saved them and I quoted them and formed verses of my own and wrote them. 

It was me, today; sitting in between and unseen mess, my mind incoherent to most, my chaotic thoughts invisible to all, typing and clicking, with an idiotic grin, sometimes a half smile regardless of how shattered some of the poetry left me. This was I, today, realizing and learning and loving. 

-Momina.

Visual Satisfaction

She puts the glass to her lips and leans her head back, letting the last few drops slip inside her mouth. She places the glass back and leans against the sofa back, landing her feet on the table. She hits the remote, and music begins to flow through the stereo at the corner; beautiful wordless music. She taps her foot and nods her head slightly, with her eyes closed as the melody strikes in high and low notes.

It is a fact that the peace of the moments never lasts as long as you want it to, and as the phone rings, it jostles her awake, she hits her foot on the glass at the table, as she gets up. She hears it crash, a reverberating sound, and looks at it in disbelieve. It looks whole from her angle. She forgets about the phone and settles into the sofa, looking at the glass that rolls from side to side on the glass top of the coffee table, slowing down. The glass is broken. Quarter of its length, one third of its width has broken off, and it rests a little further away, whole.

How queer, two things so whole, yet together they are broken. She doesn’t register the phone as it clicks off. She puts the glass upright, leaving the chipped off piece further away. She leans forward, and runs her finger on the smooth edge of the cut glass. Smooth until it cut through her flesh, stinging and drawing blood. She sits still at the alien sight. She watches as the red drops drip, staining the glass and the coffee table. She snatches a couple of tissues and wipes off the blood. Pressing onto the finger until none leaks anymore.

She looks at it curiously, the cut has formed white edges, and red wells up deep inside. It is a sight so rare, so mysterious to her; the one who has always suffered unseen pain, with no visual aid to it, it fascinates her. She draws the broken glass closer, running her fingers over it, letting it prickle and wound, allowing it to coat it all red, finding satisfaction in the graphics of her pain.

-Momina.

Impassive

As invisible as a thought,

As silent as a dream. 

As open as a secret;

Screaming out to be released.

Confined to four walls,

Yet, content and serene.

Impassive to the world,

The loneliness, unseen.

Isolated among friends,

But with stranger naive.

Expose to Familiarities,

Triggers fires, obstinate.

-Momina.

More Love

Hello everyone,

So these have been due for quite a while now, my apologies! Thank you so so much Aqsa and Mani Khaan for tagging me for the 'Liebster award'.

Thank you, Mani. :Dxx

Thank you, Aqsa :Dxx

My utter gratitude to both of me, honestly, your appreciation means a lot and I can't thank you enough for reading and liking my pieces to this extent.

So, I this time, however, I am going to skip the 'facts'.

These are the answers to your questions, Aqsa:

1. Are you an introverted or extroverted person?

I am an introvert who is friends with the most extrovert people.

2.One thing in life that means the most to you?

Definitely my sister.

3. You are woken from deep sleep at 3 in the morning! What will be the first words out of your mouth?

A very incoherent 'What?'.

4. Who do you trust and listen to more, the heart or the brain?

Actually, it's all the brain, I think. So I am not sure.

5. Your passion?

My skills, my ability to write.

6. Your zodiac sign? Do you posses the traits defining your zodiac?

Taurus! I guess I do, most of them, anyway.

7. It is said: 'Don't ask what the meaning of life is, you define it!', so what's you definition of life?

The prospect of life is too complex and vast and it keeps changing daily. I think life is about befriending strangers, trying to love the people you hate, holding on to the people you love. It's about discovering the unseen and feeling. It's about inspiring and being inspired.

8. One word that defines you?

"Wallflower", said Urbah.

  9. There is someone saying bad things about you!...Will you prefer confronting that someone or silently walking away?

I prefer silently walking away, but I am extremely lucky to have friends who'll take me along and confront that person. Thank you, you all! :')

10. Are you a realistic person or do fairy tales mean more to you?

I am a realistic person, fairy tales are stories woven out of dreams, I prefer to only take lessons from them.

These are the questions by Mani Khanna:

1.Most embarrassing moment?

I think my most embarrassing moment would be declaring the most embarrassing moment on the blog.

2. Two wishes.

I wish to own a typewriter someday and I wish people could notice the joy in little things.

3. Dream Job?

As stupid as it may sound, I honestly have no dream job, I don't really plan.

4. Name one person that comes in your mind,

Love: My little sister.

Hate: Nothing really except maybe Chemistry.

Best: My family and friends.

Blog: That pops up several images and names.

Adviser: Parents.

5. Describe me in one word.

Forgiving.

6. One person you wanted to meet, dead or alive?

That list is very long.

7. Friendship is?

Friendship is when you love people for who they are, when you can approach them, point out their wrongs, level arguments. When you love them and hate them, and are at peace with them.

8. A girl and a boy can be friends, justify with a reason.

Of course they can, friendship is regardless of gender. Society condemns a lot that isn't wrong, they just need to complicate things, hence, they make their own rules.

9. Best moment till date?

1st January 2008, the day my baby-sister was born.

10. One thing you are afraid of?

Allah.

11. One thing you don't like to share with people?

Anything at all. I am very personal.

Thank you, once again and lots of love.

-Momina.

That Moment.

Do you remember those moments when you were talking with someone and suddenly the walls went down; the walls that defined the middle lines between acquaintances and friends? Do you remember those moments after which it was all simple, frank? When you no more had to think before you said something. And when you asked without worry, and answered without logic. That moment when you were suddenly friends, do you remember?

What did you spoke of? What simplified it all? And does it matters, that moment? Or the moments before and after that? Were there circumstances? Did you want to be friends or were you mortal enemies? Do these things matter?

They do. For that moment you gained. That moment you changed. In that moment you were something special, for each other. Not just another person added into a friend circle, but someone you looked forward to speaking. That moment was special. Not because it was easy to talk afterwards but simply because you could talk without barriers. You could dare to approach a subject, to start a conversation, to point out a wrong, to level an argument.

That moment, was everything. 

-Momina.

Faceless Existence

She gazed back at me dryly with a piercing gaze that seemed to penetrate right through mine. Everything about her appearance was flawed; her weary eyes, dirty clothes that were badly creased, bits of nail varnish stuck to her nails, most of which had been chipped off. Her long tresses had once been in what looked like a braid, her cheeks were stained and swollen red. She stumbled on her tiny steps but her eyes were as piercing as before, unfaltering. The disturbing thing was that her eyes were as powerful as they were empty, there was nothing in them, no pain, no fear… no hope.

So I didn't knew why they had me smiling, we were like two strangely different people, connected in the crowd of unseen faces, through dots. No, I didn't know her, neither did she know me. We were strangers, unrelated yet somehow linked, something put us apart…together, but distant. As I smiled at her, a faint smile touched her dried lips, only for split second, after which it turned into a grimace; her eye brows knotted together in worry, her face distorted into anger. And within that very second she ducked her head and disappeared into the throngs of people.

She left me there, though, paused and alone while strangers blurred past. They were faceless, for me. I didn't search for her in that crowed space, but I stood there and wondered what I hadn't before, in the sole minute that I had felt a connection with her. I pondered about her unknown past and future as I stood there, alone, while she blurred past me. This time unknown. 

-Momina.

To Everyone, Their Own.

For all it was a curse, an unattainable destiny.

But then, maybe it was a blessing,

Bestowed on only a few.

For me it was joy, a reason to smile.

But then, for the rest it was just the sky,

Crying it all out.

For some it was a path straighter than any,

But then, there were bends further ahead,

When our road was clear.

For most it was claustrophobic and confined,

But then, for them it was different;

Where they were alive.

For us it was melancholy, sorrow and sadness.

But then for some, it was only then,

That they smiled.

-Momina.