Echoing secrets

It’s in the wee hours of the morning when everything is so still it’s almost sinister, when the silence can be shattered by the drop of a pin, when it’s slightly scary even in the comfort of your own house; it’s in these dark moments that deep thoughts prevail me and I get the urge to write down all those. They are not about my life, these thoughts; they are about life in general, about the laws of nature and about people, strangers and friends alike. 

In these hours nothing makes sense and yet all of it makes more sense than ever. It’s so intricately designed, to be understood but at a certain moment, to be known but at a specific time; when you doubt it. When you suspect the truth of your thoughts and when truth is not transparent but lucid. The reality is so obvious that it’s suffocating.

And as dawn descends my pen just hovers over the paper, it has left splotches of ink; dark blue circles spread across the clear page. I recognize the truth but I have no power to write it, my thoughts reside but my words escape and betray me. A betrayal that doesn't hurts, an infidelity so obvious it is looked over, for these secrets are meant to be realized not spoken. Everyone falls through the reality of these moments, none can flee and none can incarcerate it in words or so. They are meant for all of us alone, secrets of nature that are meant to exist in in nature only. 

-Momina.

Picture source: http://stanzlife.wordpress.com/

Let's try, again.

Stop! Let’s wait!

There’s more to be heard

And lot’s more to say!

Stop; just give me a chance,

I believe we can try, again.

Let’s dive into the past,

Let’s, lose all that wrecked.

You know we don’t need all that.

We’ll smile once more

We can face the world, again.

Stop, don’t cry.

I know it’s hard

But this shouldn't wait!

I won’t let us die down

Without any tries.

We’ll just have to fight

Out of the inanity, our way.

-Momina.

Memoirs

Eighteen is a difficult age.You honestly seem to be standing in the middle of nowhere. Abandoned and alone. Sure there are the loved ones around you but honestly you are alone. Not to mention all those thoughts cooking up in your head.
Papers. Admissions. Universities' due dates. Entry tests. Merits. Result.  
The haphazardness and nausea of it all. The 'what will become of me?'s and 'what should I do?'s.
It's like being in an endless circle of sleepless nights, fear and prayers. 
And to top it all of, you are an adult. The trap. 


Anyways, here is a poem, (was that kind of abrupt?) 

Like smiling sunshine and rusted frames,
With memories clogged and grayed
Of those mystical times and hours splayed
Mesmerizing and captivating in ages today.
Of eyes that glazed on every good bye,
Of the thrilling adventures filled with ecstatic smiles.
Like golden dust splattered on a sad sky
Like blissful breeze when lone and tired.
The little clouds of dust that fly 
When heavenly drops fall from the sky
When we all laughed not caring of tomorrow
Then was the time when there were truly no sorrows.


Momina.