Last night before I wrapped my blanket and slept, there was a story I wanted to share. When I folded my hands for the goodnight prayer, my heart felt like it was sinking. My lungs were like full of hot air, I wanted to throw out in one gush. So after I murmered the prayer and opened my eyes, I felt two drops of tear sticking to the corners of my eyes. Things that were pent up inside me sought an urgent release. In the dead of the night, at half past three.

So there was the story I wanted to get out of my mouth and so out of my mind disturbed me to hell of an extent. And I almost felt the dire urge to knock my neighbour's door. But I didn't because I couldn't. Instead I just changed sides on my bed.

And after I switched the lights off,I sensed the dark corridors outside my window. I so much wanted to feel the presence of a someone that I tried hard to hear footsteps outside...I strained my ears to hear voices talking. But I couldn't. There wasn't a soul I could tell my story to.

And my sleep was eluding me bad...

3 comments:

d gypsy! said...

i hate that feeling, i hate it....but it comes often...

Niva said...

beautiful flow of words there... nice blog.

on a oompletely unrelated note though, i wonder if it's the pain-body that we associate with sometimes that does the talking..,that wants to associate ourselves with a story...
.. i guess it's all good when we can differentiate and demarcate ourselves from this so called pain-body, it's precarious only when it submerges being into one with self...

A_GaMeNeVeReNdS™ said...

Good writing dude!!!
Come up with a book- reach masses and win bookers :)
All the Best!