Friday, January 16, 2009


It rained all the week that week. It stopped in between sometimes only to gather strength. Water gave way to nothing, except for hunger and plight. Our faces were the repository of nature’s fury. Darkness had swallowed everything. The dim morning sun reminded that the slippery terrace was the only place left without clogging water. The umbrellas couldn’t stop us from swelling like potatoes soaked in water.
Death floated all around picking up the weak souls, leaving the strong ones for some more time to fight before giving up.

Beyond him or after him Satan was omnipresent, waiting. The fear of loosing his company lifted my spirit against the Satan. I might have done the same things to his hope.

It was on the eighth day, that the nature had shown mercy. Sun shone bright that day.
Few birds sang for their lost ones. Fishes and frogs started plopping up on the surface of the water.
Water had seeped deep, courage deeper and faith the deepest in both of us.
Was there a way to survive any longer? He looked into my eyes and I in his and we did survive.


everything burns... said...

why have you started writing about death so much all of a sudden?

Lena said...

looks like the world's end is quite near.
Glad it ended with survival though.

kunal said...


hey u suddenly shocked me with ur comment.
I was like am i really think too much about death.

These things are just random thoughts.
Death is a beautiful thing by the way.
But i think i will for some time stop writing about death.

Thaanks for pointing it to me.

@ Lena
I really appreciate ur efforts and patience.
U even have a good heart to leave a comment to encourage everyone u read.


~vagabond~ said...

Nice! :)