Month: April 2017

The Search

~ Shivangi ~ 1 Comment

man-in-feild

At some point in time, we all tend to be lost in this strange labyrinth of life, not just because it is uncertain, challenging and demanding but because just sometimes one stumbles upon a realization that there is a void and nothing ever seems to fill it.

 

Sometimes in to the nights so dark,
sometimes into my thoughts so deep
I look for you with all my heart
up till where my eyes can see.

I look for happiness
I look for peace
I look for something
that shall mean something to me.

I tried for clothes
I tried for books
I tried for drugs
still my hunt didn’t cease.

I don’t know what’s written for me
I wonder if ever anything is written for anybody
I wonder if life is just a journey
Or a bubble, a dream-so momentary.

Not always are my paths so right
At times I walk without the light
At times into the forests so dark
I keep wandering till the last.

So my heart sings me a song
tells me these thoughts are a Pandora’s box
tells me to listen to what It says
but like a wild feather, the heart sways and sways.

A travesty, a game, a drama or desire
Questions, confusions, a truth so satire
A deck of cards or a house of one
many conjectures to this world.

still I look for it
up till where my eyes can see
into the nights so dark,
and my thoughts so deep.

 

(Originally written in 2011.)

Rainbow in my head

~ Shivangi ~ Leave a comment

When Siddhant came back from work he saw that the front door of his two bedroom apartment was wide open. He kept his office bag down on the couch as his eyes scanned through the apartment. He saw that the closets were ajar with clothes lying all over the floor. Even the fridge door open, kitchen cabinets emptied and house in a complete disarray. “Must have been in a great hurry”, he thought to himself.  He went inside his bedroom and was not surprised to see that the locker was open and the cash was missing. He felt a knot inside his stomach.

He called his brother but his phone was switched off. He paced across the hall for a few minutes contemplating his next move. He reached out for one of the open kitchen cabinets and fetched an old bottle of whiskey which he used either when he was ecstatic or morose.  He made himself a drink and finally dialed 100.

‘Police station.’ said a coarse voice across the phone.

Siddhant immediately disconnected the line.

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