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Sunrise’s mojo and swinging spirit

Dewy morning

dark sky

glowing moon surfacing

lighting a light in the heart

healing spirit

shining on the soul

erasing the scars

opening the moist eyes

contemplating in silence

kaleidoscope of emotions

spirit swinging and soaring

hitting a high

who needs booze?

existence is a drug!

thriving on cocktail




sunrise’s mojo

gently caressing furs,

igniting the chakra

coalescing into one whole,

it’s no mathematical equation

the chemistry of the heart and mind,

put to rest assumptions






blow the bubble

unfold the palm,

flicker the mound of baggage in the air.








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D for Dark Night

This post is written as part of  Blogging from A to Z Challenge 2016 (April). Today, I written on Letter D for Dark Night.

D for Dark Night

 What are you doing?, I protest in disbelief. She threatens me not to make the slightest noise as we removed our shoes to walk barefoot inside someone’s house. During the day, her uncle refused to testify that I have not lost my memory and told he doesn’t want to join the party of screwed souls.

She expertly opens the drawer and fumbles with some papers, with the help of light flashing on her phone screen. She signals me to follow her steps as she opens the main door and we walk down the stairs, holding our shoes in the hands.

In the car, I furiously ask, “Have you gone mad? You were stealing in someone’s house?” She seems unperturbed and casually says, “So what, it’s my uncle’s house. I took some of his documents testifying you are in good health and your memory is fine. I forged his signature and borrowed few papers to blackmail him.”

“Are you a thief,?”  I am incensed.

“Of course not! I also took few papers from your drawers inside your house,” She casually says.

“Wait! WTF!!! You entered my house…”

“..When you were sleeping,” she says with precision.

The car reaches my apartment. I am tagging along with you, she announces her decision to self- invite herself not without telling she doesn’t need my permission. “Together, we must time travel from the present to your past. We don’t know anything about you. I need to be with you at any time for you may run away. We shall sit in silence in the dark night. It doesn’t really matter,” she says.

A bird flew by the window and almost scratches my ear. I jump off the sofa and it nearly gave me a heart attack. I feel like a prisoner of darkness as we sit in silence and look at each other. Not a single word is uttered. This girl who is hell-bent on saving me and carrying me to my past will not reveal her name, identity or where she came from. I wonder whether she is real or a dream who pops up during the day and accompanies me in the dark night.

The whole world is sleeping and I suddenly feel like a prisoner facing a person with whom I just made a pact of communicating through the eyes. Karma is such a bitch. I have a past which is narrated by people and something we will both explore. It’s already giving me goosebumps. I feel like a stranger to myself and a pale reflection in the mirror called life.

I am born again as grown up since a week. I know nothing of my glorious past.  A celebrity, who is hounded and equally loved by people who know a lot more about him than I do. I cannot fight this memory loss and pretend to know everything about my past. How I hate playing and leading a double life!

The dark night is killing me inside. After all, to whom do I speak and share the biggest irony of my life. The new identity that I now carry gnaws on me right now and eating every bit of my existence. Who are listening? The bird that just flew by the window, the trees or night owls. I just wanna yell and tell the dark night, hear me out for I have a secret to tell.

Now, I have no choice in life: I will see myself through the microscopic lense of someone who was a stranger and saw me on posters, film magazines, billboards, and films. She will make me time travel, perhaps to a daunting past, dawn or a life millions can only dream of.