journey down memory lane...
JOURNEY DOWN MEMORY LANE….
She sits by her window looking outside the snow falling down like cotton balls being pushed by the howling winds, moving from here to there as it touched the ground. She sat there looking through the window, a pen in her hand , a white paper in front of her… she stared at the paper thoughts running down her head. Story...what story should she write...a story that will take birth from her pen and mean nothing else but the fruit of her imagination... She who has been writing wonderful stories of happy endings and whose own life never reflected her stories… She sat there looking at that piece of paper...the pot of black ink in from of her and the pen still there in the trembling hands… This ink which once put on this white paper would be the beginning of yet another story. This time looking at this white paper shimmering under the light of the burning candle in front of her no words came out. The only marks that tainted the whiteness of the paper were the tears rolling down her cheeks that went crushing down on that paper. The black ink was no more the medium for her imagination to be born out as a story …this time her tears wrote down the story of her soul... The white shimmering paper now bore the seeds of the tears of pearl … this was the story of her soul…not her imagination... The tears rolling down glittered like pearls drops on her pink pale cheeks…each drop that went crashing down on the piece of paper was the witness of events of the life that meant so much for her… A flashback in childhood reminded her of the loneliness that ate her up. The days she spent alone within the four walls of the room, the long endless nights where she hugged her pillow and talked to the shadows on the wall. The friends that she made with the Teddy bear, the Tweety and Winnie Pooh, who even now sit next to her table lamp near to her bed. Those days that turned her in a quite different being amidst this ruthless world. She grew up on her own, learning from her mistakes and moving forward by leaning on herself without anyone. Yet she find peace and solace within these very four walls, as they were the witness to each and every second of her existence…in spite of being hard and cold, of being in different, of being lifeless they were there always… creating her own personal world and guarding her from the rain and storm outside. A small smile draws itself on this wearing face of hers, as she thinks of this new friend she made... He was there…even from before she was even born. But she took time to recognise Him, to believe in Him and to trust Him. And today He stands as the pinnacle of her life and whole existence…. As she travels down the memory lane she meets Love … A love that made her get out of these four walls of her world. The four walls were now too small to encompass her and her new world. She needed more space to expand and grow… for she was no more a child...she had grown up into a fine young lady. New aspirations, new dreams, … a brand new world where she finally thought to have seen the light at the end on this tunnel she has been treading on since her birth … The light was bright and so powerful… so shimmering and glittering, that the obscurity of the world felt shy and gradually started backing out to give place to this light. It was so warm, so attracting and so fiery … that she was automatically driven to it. Her friend was there walking by her side as usual… He followed her in this brand new world … step by step …. She was blinded by this light. never in her life before she had seen such a beautiful thing… never had she felt such a warm … she was so mesmerised that she now felt an urge to run towards that light that was calling her at the end of this road of hers… so mesmerised and hypnotised was she that she tried to skip some steps…. She no more walked down that road but tried to run down it. She slipped many times, she fell many times but yet she stood up again and ran to it …. Her friend was there again holding her hand and helping her to stand up … However slowly whispering in her ears of dangers ahead, of obstacles and huddles ahead… yet she ignored it and kept on running…because she had a belief .. she had a faith that had started to grow inside of her … she had grown up in that fine red rose… she was no more that bud. But was that bud blossoming into that velvet Rose whose petals were opening up slowly … who now had thorns down its branch... thick and piercing. But She had forgotten that this bright light at the end... so warm from a distance could be burning hot when near. Nevertheless Her friend stood there this time not by her side...but following her like her shadow... if She had decided to run down this slippery road then so be it … But He did not let go …. She closed her eyes pressing so hard to hold her tears back but they flowed down, draining her makeup… she held the pen in her hand so tight it broke in two... one end pricking her hand and a drop of blood slowly forming up… a tear felt just then tickling down her cheeks in swept by on her red lips…as it joined the drop of blood….and they both went splashing down on the white paper… The whiteness, the purity of the paper was no more… it was now stained with the redness of her blood … it was no more imagination of the black ink… it was the pain and reality of her soul being drawn out with her blood … the nuance of the red on the paper was ironically magnificent.. The lines that were drawn... The splashing spots of red and tear marks… created a new texture...a new colour … from the original whiteness of the paper… Her eyes slowly rose up from this natural work of art to admire the nature outside through her window… Toc... toc...toc... rain drops crushing against her window pane… and rolling down to be embraced by the ground. She looked at that ground who moments before that accepted the snow in its arms… hard. Cold... Now accepts the heavy drops of raining pouring down... Yet without a single ouuuf… or sigh… It embraces in and allows it to penetrate her core… She closes her eyes as she breaths in deeply this perfume of fog and mist building up … this humidity of the rain drops mixing up with the snow and the ground…. Once more she flies back in time as she remembers of the scars and the fire that burnt her … this new whirlpool of emotions caused her to brush aside the pot of ink … and the black ink went splashing down on the white paper… this sight of blackness further brought her to those painful memories… Yes she had run to the end of the tunnel….. eager to embrace that new light and warmth... and ignoring the whispers of that Friend of hers. In spite of feeling the turmoil of that pain within … in spite of feeling her heart being ripped apart and torn into pieces …. She smiles a cute innocent smile… so innocent and true that her dimples give this death sight of hers and new life…. For she is proud of this pain and scar… for it reminds her of her hastiness of life… and allows her to step in yet a bigger sphere of life… from that blossoming rose .. She is now that sole opened up rose that stand proudly in the pricking bush... with fresh dews on her velvet skin... like tears of pearl shimmering upon the rising of the sun… Yes...she stands in the garden of life… proud... and awaiting for the gardener to pick her up and show her around. Yet life is such that … she stands there… passing through another cycle of rain …and snow… Nevertheless she stands true to herself and stands there… still keeping up her freshness… some of her velvet petals crushed by the winds… yet the drops of dew and rain that slowly roll down Her... reveals the exceptional redness of her petals … the smoothness that she still keeps within… the magnificence of her reason to be… Her friend still around as the thorn guarding her yet as usual… Hmmmmmmm a sigh of relief...is heard… as she opens up her eyes this time letting go of all her pains and letting flow the tears within... she no more hold them back ..For she wants to be released … these tears go running down her chin and as they fall down on the paper they wipe off the black ink... and reveal a white spot again… The piece paper is now a glittering under a fusion of new colours… red... white...black…. as it tells Her story… the story of her soul… Her eyes are blessed with a wonderful sight through her window… in the mist and fog of a falling sun … she admires the beauty of a feeble yet wonderful rainbow… this time her face is brightened up with a smile that comes from her heart … as she looks through the window… she leaves her broken pen .. And wipes off her tears of pearl… For Her friend did not let her down… He was still there... hard and firm...guarding her eternal beauty... as she wore the crown of beautiful butterfly… at the break of a new day… This scene of magnificence and bliss attracted the eyes of rare gardener… a gardener who found Her beauty even though her velvet skin...now started to turn brownish... a gardener who immortalised Her … and gave her back her due value as he took Her along with Him… Cutting her from her pricking bush and loneliness … he cut her just beneath that first thorn... He saw her beauty with her withering petals… her marked branch... A gardener who made her the stand out of every other flower in this garden… As she slows down memory lane …. She now has a bright hearty smile…. Glittering eyes... that tell of this new story… eyes full of hope again…as this rainbow announces a new beginning … She now stands on Reality street... as she turns back again to admire Memory lane… a last twinkle roll down her cheeks… this time not ending on the piece of paper… but in the palm of her Gardener… this last drop shines so bright under the dying candle light… as it spells the wonders of eternal Friendship she shared with her FRIEND… and the magic of Love… with her Gardener… She looks down at her piece of paper… what was a glittering piece of white paper... is now the canvas of a colourful journey…lines... spots of splashes.. Wrinkles... of white, red, and black…fusions and nuances of the colours…are what she wrote this time… She blows the light of the candle... with just one wish in her heart for her Gardener …and a request to her Friend… “TO HAVE THIS AGAIN, JUST THIS, JUST THE ONCE MORE, I WOULD SINK BELOW AUTUMNAL EARTH AND PLACE MY RIGHT HAND IN YOURS LIKE A SHADOW…”
She sits by her window looking outside the snow falling down like cotton balls being pushed by the howling winds, moving from here to there as it touched the ground. She sat there looking through the window, a pen in her hand , a white paper in front of her… she stared at the paper thoughts running down her head. Story...what story should she write...a story that will take birth from her pen and mean nothing else but the fruit of her imagination... She who has been writing wonderful stories of happy endings and whose own life never reflected her stories… She sat there looking at that piece of paper...the pot of black ink in from of her and the pen still there in the trembling hands… This ink which once put on this white paper would be the beginning of yet another story. This time looking at this white paper shimmering under the light of the burning candle in front of her no words came out. The only marks that tainted the whiteness of the paper were the tears rolling down her cheeks that went crushing down on that paper. The black ink was no more the medium for her imagination to be born out as a story …this time her tears wrote down the story of her soul... The white shimmering paper now bore the seeds of the tears of pearl … this was the story of her soul…not her imagination... The tears rolling down glittered like pearls drops on her pink pale cheeks…each drop that went crashing down on the piece of paper was the witness of events of the life that meant so much for her… A flashback in childhood reminded her of the loneliness that ate her up. The days she spent alone within the four walls of the room, the long endless nights where she hugged her pillow and talked to the shadows on the wall. The friends that she made with the Teddy bear, the Tweety and Winnie Pooh, who even now sit next to her table lamp near to her bed. Those days that turned her in a quite different being amidst this ruthless world. She grew up on her own, learning from her mistakes and moving forward by leaning on herself without anyone. Yet she find peace and solace within these very four walls, as they were the witness to each and every second of her existence…in spite of being hard and cold, of being in different, of being lifeless they were there always… creating her own personal world and guarding her from the rain and storm outside. A small smile draws itself on this wearing face of hers, as she thinks of this new friend she made... He was there…even from before she was even born. But she took time to recognise Him, to believe in Him and to trust Him. And today He stands as the pinnacle of her life and whole existence…. As she travels down the memory lane she meets Love … A love that made her get out of these four walls of her world. The four walls were now too small to encompass her and her new world. She needed more space to expand and grow… for she was no more a child...she had grown up into a fine young lady. New aspirations, new dreams, … a brand new world where she finally thought to have seen the light at the end on this tunnel she has been treading on since her birth … The light was bright and so powerful… so shimmering and glittering, that the obscurity of the world felt shy and gradually started backing out to give place to this light. It was so warm, so attracting and so fiery … that she was automatically driven to it. Her friend was there walking by her side as usual… He followed her in this brand new world … step by step …. She was blinded by this light. never in her life before she had seen such a beautiful thing… never had she felt such a warm … she was so mesmerised that she now felt an urge to run towards that light that was calling her at the end of this road of hers… so mesmerised and hypnotised was she that she tried to skip some steps…. She no more walked down that road but tried to run down it. She slipped many times, she fell many times but yet she stood up again and ran to it …. Her friend was there again holding her hand and helping her to stand up … However slowly whispering in her ears of dangers ahead, of obstacles and huddles ahead… yet she ignored it and kept on running…because she had a belief .. she had a faith that had started to grow inside of her … she had grown up in that fine red rose… she was no more that bud. But was that bud blossoming into that velvet Rose whose petals were opening up slowly … who now had thorns down its branch... thick and piercing. But She had forgotten that this bright light at the end... so warm from a distance could be burning hot when near. Nevertheless Her friend stood there this time not by her side...but following her like her shadow... if She had decided to run down this slippery road then so be it … But He did not let go …. She closed her eyes pressing so hard to hold her tears back but they flowed down, draining her makeup… she held the pen in her hand so tight it broke in two... one end pricking her hand and a drop of blood slowly forming up… a tear felt just then tickling down her cheeks in swept by on her red lips…as it joined the drop of blood….and they both went splashing down on the white paper… The whiteness, the purity of the paper was no more… it was now stained with the redness of her blood … it was no more imagination of the black ink… it was the pain and reality of her soul being drawn out with her blood … the nuance of the red on the paper was ironically magnificent.. The lines that were drawn... The splashing spots of red and tear marks… created a new texture...a new colour … from the original whiteness of the paper… Her eyes slowly rose up from this natural work of art to admire the nature outside through her window… Toc... toc...toc... rain drops crushing against her window pane… and rolling down to be embraced by the ground. She looked at that ground who moments before that accepted the snow in its arms… hard. Cold... Now accepts the heavy drops of raining pouring down... Yet without a single ouuuf… or sigh… It embraces in and allows it to penetrate her core… She closes her eyes as she breaths in deeply this perfume of fog and mist building up … this humidity of the rain drops mixing up with the snow and the ground…. Once more she flies back in time as she remembers of the scars and the fire that burnt her … this new whirlpool of emotions caused her to brush aside the pot of ink … and the black ink went splashing down on the white paper… this sight of blackness further brought her to those painful memories… Yes she had run to the end of the tunnel….. eager to embrace that new light and warmth... and ignoring the whispers of that Friend of hers. In spite of feeling the turmoil of that pain within … in spite of feeling her heart being ripped apart and torn into pieces …. She smiles a cute innocent smile… so innocent and true that her dimples give this death sight of hers and new life…. For she is proud of this pain and scar… for it reminds her of her hastiness of life… and allows her to step in yet a bigger sphere of life… from that blossoming rose .. She is now that sole opened up rose that stand proudly in the pricking bush... with fresh dews on her velvet skin... like tears of pearl shimmering upon the rising of the sun… Yes...she stands in the garden of life… proud... and awaiting for the gardener to pick her up and show her around. Yet life is such that … she stands there… passing through another cycle of rain …and snow… Nevertheless she stands true to herself and stands there… still keeping up her freshness… some of her velvet petals crushed by the winds… yet the drops of dew and rain that slowly roll down Her... reveals the exceptional redness of her petals … the smoothness that she still keeps within… the magnificence of her reason to be… Her friend still around as the thorn guarding her yet as usual… Hmmmmmmm a sigh of relief...is heard… as she opens up her eyes this time letting go of all her pains and letting flow the tears within... she no more hold them back ..For she wants to be released … these tears go running down her chin and as they fall down on the paper they wipe off the black ink... and reveal a white spot again… The piece paper is now a glittering under a fusion of new colours… red... white...black…. as it tells Her story… the story of her soul… Her eyes are blessed with a wonderful sight through her window… in the mist and fog of a falling sun … she admires the beauty of a feeble yet wonderful rainbow… this time her face is brightened up with a smile that comes from her heart … as she looks through the window… she leaves her broken pen .. And wipes off her tears of pearl… For Her friend did not let her down… He was still there... hard and firm...guarding her eternal beauty... as she wore the crown of beautiful butterfly… at the break of a new day… This scene of magnificence and bliss attracted the eyes of rare gardener… a gardener who found Her beauty even though her velvet skin...now started to turn brownish... a gardener who immortalised Her … and gave her back her due value as he took Her along with Him… Cutting her from her pricking bush and loneliness … he cut her just beneath that first thorn... He saw her beauty with her withering petals… her marked branch... A gardener who made her the stand out of every other flower in this garden… As she slows down memory lane …. She now has a bright hearty smile…. Glittering eyes... that tell of this new story… eyes full of hope again…as this rainbow announces a new beginning … She now stands on Reality street... as she turns back again to admire Memory lane… a last twinkle roll down her cheeks… this time not ending on the piece of paper… but in the palm of her Gardener… this last drop shines so bright under the dying candle light… as it spells the wonders of eternal Friendship she shared with her FRIEND… and the magic of Love… with her Gardener… She looks down at her piece of paper… what was a glittering piece of white paper... is now the canvas of a colourful journey…lines... spots of splashes.. Wrinkles... of white, red, and black…fusions and nuances of the colours…are what she wrote this time… She blows the light of the candle... with just one wish in her heart for her Gardener …and a request to her Friend… “TO HAVE THIS AGAIN, JUST THIS, JUST THE ONCE MORE, I WOULD SINK BELOW AUTUMNAL EARTH AND PLACE MY RIGHT HAND IN YOURS LIKE A SHADOW…”
Labels: story
posted by ...TeAr Of PeArL... at
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