Dancing on melodies of Pain

I have never been a good dancer. I have never been a bad dancer either. I don’t dance at all. Never. So whenever I am with friends and they drag to those fancy clubs to booze up and have a little ‘fun’, I just end up finding myself sitting on the sofa instead, watching them loosing themselves up with the beat. Even when I am drunk and DJ is playing best Punjabi hits, my feet won’t have enough courage to bless the dancing floor.

It was Saturday night. I was at some random club in this big city. My friends have dragged me along as one of us was going through a bad breakup and you can’t say no in a situation like this. So as usual, after three shots of Whiskey and two Vodka shots, they all were swaying their butts on the dancing floor, and I was watching them from a distance with a glass of Pi├▒a Colada in my hand.

It was then my eyes fell on you. You were there on the dancing floor, lost in a trance of your own. I have never seen someone dancing with so much pain. Your moves were reflecting the agony you were going through at that time. You weren’t listening to the song or the music. You were lost in your own beat. But that didn’t put you offbeat for the music. In fact it seemed your steps were fitter on that song rather than rest of the crowd’s. And then you smiled as the music dropped. By god, I have never seen so much trauma in a smile before.

You excused yourself from the crowd and went to the bartender for a drink. ‘Margarita’, you ordered. You took a sip and smacked those lips of yours. I was so lost in my thoughts kissing your lips that I didn’t see you move to a table. Five other girls were sitting there, probably your friends. I had thought you were alone. I followed you there to a table nearby. I kept my distance as I didn’t want to creep you out. But I also wanted to know the story behind that pain badly. So I started eavesdropping to your conversations.

You had a breakup recently. Not a big deal. Breakup can’t be reason behind that gloom – the gloom that made you dance. Things started to get clear as drinks on your table increased. From recent conversations, you started moving to your past. You were still in love with your ex and that moron cheated on you. Yes, that might be the reason – a heartbreak. Yes, there’s difference between a heartbreak and a breakup. If you are having a heartbreak and still choose not to breakup, then trust me no one can even empathize the pain you are going through. I knew your recent breakup uncovered that hidden pain you had through your heartbreak.

I didn’t know why I was doing this. I was literally stalking you, but you know what, I wasn’t feeling any guilt about it at all. Your group went to the washroom. I knew it was the time you would leave the club and the story unfinished. I still wasn’t able to comprehend how you were able to gather that trauma altogether and dance through it. But it was fine. Most of the stories are left unfinished that way in this universe. I scribbled something and left a note on your table below your unfinished drink. I had an intuition that you would come back to finish at least that drink, if not your story. You came out after five minutes and picked the note up to read it properly with your dizzy eyes.

‘I liked your dance. It was so painful. You ruined my night. Now, its your time to make up for it. A genuine smile from your heart would be enough to give me a good night sleep tonight- xoxo.’

I won’t tell you what happened next but I had a very good sleep that night- and in my dreams, she was dancing again, alone this time, with all the trauma and lost in trance of her own.

We don’t make skyscrapers on remnants.

‘What are you doing?’ a young innocent high pitched voice reverberated into my ears. I took a break from digging and looked up to see two curious eyes staring back at me. A five year old girl was standing there with her arms folded, watching me intently. She had two ponytails, tied with rubber -emerging from sideways of her big cute head. The magic of her innocence made me forget my work and I found myself wondering who might this child be. ‘What are you doing?’ She repeated again.

‘Go away kid. This is not a place to play.’ I said rudely, kicking myself from inside for talking to a child like that. But that was a vulnerable place. I was digging the foundations of my own existence. No one should come near that place. I picked up my spade and resumed my work again.

‘Who would like to come here anyways? This place looks haunted to me.’ Her melodious voice again disturbed my eardrums and of course my concentration and work.

‘You still here?’ I asked dropping my spade and wiping away the sweat from my forehead with the help of my index finger.

‘Yup.’ She said almost instantly. She was standing in the same stance -with her hands folded and curiosity dripping from her twinkling hazel eyes.

‘What do you want child?’ I said gasping from exhaustion.

‘I just want to see you work, please. This looks so interesting.’ She was not going to give up. I came out of the dug portion and sat on the edge -my legs still hanging inside. She followed the same and sat by my side with a friendly smile on her familiar face.

‘Who do you think used to live here?’ I asked her.

‘Ummm…..Not sure. Maybe ghosts.’ A weak smile crossed my face, courtesy to her naive childish talks.

‘Yes. You’re right. Ghosts used to live here. But I scared them off.’

‘Wow. You’re so brave. I want to be like you.’ She said sweetly. I patted her head.

‘Who used to live here before ghosts?’ I asked her, lost in my own plethora of thoughts. She stared back at me blankly -waiting for some answers.

‘You see these ruins -this place here, kiddo? It is me. Now. But it wasn’t the same before. It was beautiful. People used to live here. Pretty people, lovely people. This place used to be like a royal palace. Love, pain, anger, joy, jealousy, passion and every other member of the emotion-family was here. This place used to shower kindness to everyone. Everything was so beautiful.’ With nostalgic teary eyes, I looked towards the kid hoping she would have lost her interest. She didn’t. She stretched her hands to wipe my cheeks with her little red palms.

‘Wow. This sounds like a fairy tale to me. But what happened then? Why everyone left?’

‘Well, the house was destroyed. Some people let it get destroyed it. Some people helped it get destroyed.’ I said, confessing to myself.

‘Who would want to destroy something so beautiful?’ She asked half excited, half annoyed.

‘A storm passed by one day my child. The same people who used to live here abandoned it. The same pretty and lovely people.’ I said without looking at her. ‘It was shaking but definitely not broken. Not broken until the last person was in. But everyone left eventually. Love and his family of emotions left it in ruins. By ghosts I meant the memories which resided here once everyone left. But I got over them too. Now it’s just this little covered foundation which is intact.’

‘What are you going to do now?’ She asked. I smiled weakly.

‘I am going to make something new here. Something more beautiful. Something stronger -where more beautiful people can stay. Not reside. Stay. Something where I can call back love and his family.’

‘Ah….So you are making a skyscraper!’

‘Yes something like that.’

‘Why are digging out that small portion that is left of you then?’ She asked.

‘We don’t make tall, strong buildings on weak foundations my child. We don’t make skyscrapers on remnants.’

With that I jumped back again inside the pit, digging out the earth madly and repeating in unison with my own echo – we don’t make skyscrapers on remnants.

рдмреЗрдиреШрд╛рдм рдЪреЗрд╣рд░рд╛

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Love- The Teacher Who Never Took A Test

Love.

Perfectly flawed.

Soberly drunk.

A civilized junkie.

Mannered wild.

Peacefully violent.

Wisely foolish.

Modestly fierce.

A noble psychopath.

Gracefully incomplete.

~ Love is that book which i had just finished previous night and would still score zero today in its exam.

LOVE. A subject which is unknown to me. She taught me what love is. She was my teacher. She taught me everything she knew herself. Despite all the efforts I failed. We failed. I guess she too didn’t know the subject completely.

New relationship. I changed the teacher. I had to. I was too curious to know about this subject. This subject of love. The new teacher had her own ways of teaching. New ideas, new philosophy and new methods. Sometimes her methods conflicted with my previous knowledge and sometimes she would admire in disbelief about how I knew so much about the subject. But she would always give me zero in tests. She would say I didn’t do it the way she had taught me.

Break up. Again. What’s the point of studying with the same teacher when you aren’t scoring anything continuously. I needed to change my methods of studying. But I didn’t drop the subject. Love, as it always was, remained my interest. Something which I wanted to explore.

I changed many teachers and everyone taught me in their own unique ways which were unknown to me and I found them amazing. They would teach me everything they know themselves and I would always put my whole heart in learning them. Yet, I was never able to cross the zero mark.

This all kept going until finally I met someone after which I never had to worry about my marks no matter what. She never took any test. She just taught me what she could and taught me enough. She wasn’t just a teacher, she was a student. She learned from me and always accepted me. She made me realize it wasn’t about the teacher but it was all about the subject. It wasn’t about the marks, it was about the learning. When I was with her, I felt thankful for all the teachers who had taught me and shaped me into the person I was. She wasn’t just a teacher, she was love herself. I thought I would never have to change my teacher again. I was wrong.

Life happened. And today, I am here. With a new teacher. Tomorrow is my exam. And I know what would the result be. But it doesn’t matter to me anymore. I just focus on my learning now. I just focus on love. I have finished every book, gone through each page of my class notes and revised all the new methods which she had taught me. But that will be of no use because I am going to score zero tomorrow.

рд╕рдлрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдорд┐рд▓рддрд╛, рдШрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдорд┐рд▓рддрд╛
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рддреЗрд░реЗ рд▓рдмреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЪрд╛рдп рдХреА рд╕рд┐рд╕рдХрд┐рдпрд╛рдБ рд▓реЗрдиреА рд╣реИрдВ рдореБрдЭреЗ

Valentine

Her mere glance was enough to stone my heart

Tomato red blush was an appetizer

My feet refused to lift me up

Nerves were throbbing faster

I found myself hypnotized

Her dark magic turned me from an atheist to a believer

My fingers were crossed for the first time

Her fragrance made me forget my own lines

If it were possible, I would have described my every emotion

But words didnтАЩt escape my lips

All I could do was to kneel before her

And extend a heart made from my fingers and thumb

When I finally looked into her eyes

They were already moist with happiness

тАШWill you be my Valentine?тАЩ I whispered into her ear at last.

Poker with Life

I am playing poker with life.

Destiny is the dealer.

Life got highest cards of the deck.

Queen, King and Ace.

All spades.

Two turned cards on the table.

A ten and jack of spades.

We are playing blind.

I placed the bid.

All in.

Life looked at me.

Confused.

I smiled.

Knowing I won the lost game.

~ i beat royal flush with a smile.