My World is Yours Now

I was having a deep conversation with my thoughts when he politely asked me if we can go for a walk. My ears only heard the last word-walk- and my mind immediately said yes. As we rose up from chairs, he confessed his old affair with long walks to me, and my heart just whispered, “ Never let him go ". Walking aimlessly at night is my favourite pass time. It gives me the kind of freedom that is felt by each atom of my existence. I've never met someone who loves rambling as much as I do, and it makes me sad to the core of my heart because people are missing out on the life of their lives. But, my heart wasn't sad anymore, 'cause that night I found someone. As night grew darker, he let me sink into him. He told me how painful his childhood was, how he wanted to end his life, how everyone around him silenced his voice, and how he wished she wouldn't leave. The way he talked about her as if her name is medicine of all his pain, made me wondered about the men I left....

This ain't just my name written in Urdu. It's a secret that we shared for quite long. Long enough to call it a lifetime. Life used to be a synonym of you. I remember the day when I asked you to teach me Urdu. Little did I know, I was asking you to stay in my heart forever. You did stay. I did stay. We both stayed. In each other's heart. Then came the day when you left. Quietly. In Sleep. Silent heart attack, they informed. Since then, I breathe you in the letters you carved on infinite number of papers to make me learn Urdu. Some call it the beginning of our eternal love. Those imperfect lines drawn by me, trying to give them shapes of  Urdu words, remind me that our love was perfect. That we were perfect. That you are still here. Safe and sound. Inside my heart. So… it is not just my name written in Urdu. It's a piece of you with me very much alive in the language of love.

I accidentally killed a girl yesterday. I didn't feel terrible although I was scared. But only because I didn't want to spend my entire life in jail. To my surprise, there was no sign of fear or guilt for snatching someone's breathes forever. Not at all. I was supposed to tremble to the thought of someone dead because of me. I was supposed to give up eating for a day or two atleast. I was supposed to lock myself in a room for days or weeks. I was supposed to cry, not a river, but ocean. Nothing like that happened. I was fine - eating, listening songs, watching tv as I do everyday. Does this make me a horrible person? Evil maybe? A girl with black heart as charcoal? Or a girl with no heart at all? Anyway, I am thankful to the fact that it was only a dream. Otherwise, how would I stand a person who can be as emotionless and disgusted as I acted in my dream. I hope dreams are just dreams. I hope.

When I left you alone in the hotel room, I made a promise to myself that day to never think about you again. But here I am, waking up every day with a hope of seeing you beside me as you play with my hair. And it's strange how I still want your deep, raspy voice to be the first thing I hear right after I wake up. You know the thing I yearn for most is your silly jokes, which you used to tell me with so much enthusiasm as if you were about to solve the mystery of black hole. I remember the rule too: If I laughed at your stupid jokes, I had to kiss you in return for your noble work of making me laugh. And I purposely let your jokes win every single time. It's been months since we spoke. Now, silence is all we have between us. Although this comfortable silence tortures me every day, I won't be the first one to break. I can't be either. By the way, my phone misses your voice, maybe more than I do. You remember John, my friend from work. He asked me out when h...

Dear London, I don’t know what it is that makes my heart jump every time I hear your name. Well, whatever it is, I’d love to keep it safe and sound for the rest of my life. I know I’ve never visited you. Not even once. That also means I’ve never had the chance to stare right into your eyes all night long. However, I feel like I’ve been in your loving arms before, it’s just I don’t remember it anymore. Perhaps, long long time ago, you weren’t a place. You must be a man. A man who had the most generous heart and the most beautiful smile. A man who appreciated art as much as stars appreciate the night. A man who loved to make everyone laugh. A man who enjoyed little things in his life. And maybe, I was your one true love. Yes. Yes. This is childish but I can’t help it. You make me sad like lovers are supposed to be sad when they are miles apart from each other. You make me insanely happy when I think of seeing you in person and actually believe that it will happen one day. I don...

She was a 10-year-old introvert girl. One morning, her father gave her a 10-rupee note to buy anything for her from the Saturday market. She was excited because such lovely things used to happen only once in a blue moon. For her, that 10-rupee note seemed like some treasure worth millions because her father gave it to her with so much love. She wanted to use it in the best way possible. She pondered all day about what she should buy until the clock told her that it was time to go to the market. She and her mother got ready and left. The market wasn’t far away from their home so it only took them less than 20 minutes to reach the market. Her mother got busy in looking for household stuff while her eyes were wandering here and there in a hope of finding the perfect something soon. She saw many toys, dolls, hair bands, but nothing captured her heart. Soon, her face dropped in disappointment. The last ray of hope was ready to leave her heart when her eyes caught a glimpse of a heart...