Its irritating. So Uncomfortable. When you are calm...
inside...outside... where ever you reach to yourself....what ever you
can touch of your self... Its awfully quiet everywhere. Disinterest is
an interesting word. She thought he was growing inside her. Shekhar, she
read him every day, word by word or thought by thought. But he slips
from her. He is far somewhere. In some city, she never dwelled. At some
coffee house, she despised. He is far from her yet she knows he is
growing inside her. Secretly. Love. Oh. She feels dull on hearing the
word. Like a coffee over drunk. She hopes to find a better sleep now.
Things around her does not interest her ... snow... if only it had been
little snow and she could breathe beneath the earth. There must be
another world beneath. She slips into her blanket into a voice warm into
a world dark...

Two hours. Two long. Too much. Yet too less if I sit by a half-closed window and sun rays tickle my eyes play with my hairs and kiss my lips. Too less to thank God for all good he did. Too less to observe the life as it flows. Too less to love each moment as it passes by. We run and run whole life and it is passed in a twinkling of an eye but our soul carries the imprints for eternity. The Soul was an empty vessel when it began its journey but the time allowed Soul to fill itself with pretty flowers, beads, gems and magnificent things. Whole life we keep on fulfilling the needs of body and neglect our soul. Wouldn't it be wonderful to pause for some minutes and give sometime to our Soul. To observe the cycle of universe and feel yourself a part of it. To rise above the petty problems of the day and feel the magnificence of Being. To fly with imagination to the unknown worlds of fairies, kabilas, gypsies, forests, mountains, ocean. To let the...
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