Looking at a thousand pictures in words, i came round in circles to define those pictures in words. Got to make those words better than the pictures. The pictures of the world replaced by words of fantasy. What i saw was real, what I touched was not. The lie of a moment held in time. nothing could change it but the words. The story of the moment before and of the moment after, only the words could build, giving an extension to the lie.

The boat of stones

Sitting on a boat of stones, she wanted to flap her wings and fly away. 

But the boat held her back with the promise that it will take her to the other end, to a world where she would be able to fly as much as she wanted to. It told her that, right now, her wings were not strong enough. That they might give in while she is flying in the middle of the ocean. What would she do then? And that she is safe in the boat.

So she stayed back. But it had been so long since the boat moved. It was made of stones after all. The boat rocked every night to put her to sleep. It told her, before she dozed off to the other end of the world, that in the morning she will find herself closer to wherever it was she wanted to go. 

Gradually she was forgetting that she had wings at all. It was only when she saw birds, just like her, up in the air, did she remember that she could fly once upon a time. 

But she no more trusted her wings. At some point, while she was sitting in that boat, waiting for it to move, she had begun to blame her wings for her stillness. Strange as it may sound, it was true. She no more had faith in her wings. They were there. Always. Always with her. But she didn’t care. Because she believed more in what the boat of stones told her. As time was passing, she was becoming one with the stones in the boat. Even the dream of the world she wanted to go to was blurring. And she was getting too comfortable in the boat. She had made a world in there. 

And the illusion of movement kept her waiting. 

Button

I need to fix a button

It's been hanging there for long

I can either sew it on

Or pull it out forever

I can live unbuttoned

There is nothing to hide

But this button of my memories

Has a good and a bad side

I don't wish to lose any

However bad it might be

It's me hanging on to this button

Not the button hanging on to me

Maybe I will let it be

Till the last thread gives way

And then I will just let it go

Losing it like needle in hay.

Your hideout.

Reasons are too many
Reasons are none

For the way you walked away
For the way you turned.

You gave me hope
And you made me sad

You kept me confused
Of whatever we had.

It is kind of good
It is kind of bad

Living with hope
With nothing in your hand.

I looked for you within
I looked for you without

There were no traces
Of your whereabout.

But I know for sure
With a hint of doubt

You are not gone for good
My dreams your hideout.

Too late.

Looking out into the endless sea, she just stood there. Motionless. Unaware of the moist, dancing breeze around her. She had never taken that breeze for granted. Infact, she had been grateful for it. But today...today was different...there were heavier things on her mind, weighing her down...as if someone had tied a stone around her body and she was drowning. She was unaware of everything. Of the late night hour, of her presence as the only woman on the sea shore, of the fact that men were watching her, and that she stood out. She stood out with her elegant and sophisticated looks. Coming from a middle class family, nobody would expect her to look like a queen, but she did. Even in rags.
Today she stood like a queen who has lost everything. But the poise came naturally to her. The sea was calling out to her. It was promising her to leave that pathetic world behind and become the queen of endlessness. Of nothingness. From where she was standing, the vast ocean was only a step away. Only a step away was her escape. The great escape.
Suddenly her realities had changed. This city of dreams looked too shallow and salivating. Yesterday seemed so close. That yesterday when she had come to this city with an edge. She believed she could be someone, with her ethics intact. She did become someone. Yes she did. The wife of a rich businessman. He cut her wings and used to fly every night with the butterflies. And her ethics. Yes those. They were intact. Thats why she was here. Tonight. Her husband didn't know. No he thought she was with his friend. A friend she was supposed to keep company for bright business prospects.
What will her parents think? They were simple people. She craved to be back in their safe arms. the sounds of the waves pierced her reverie. Something blinked on her right....the cellphone...Home calling...a tear dropped...how do they always know that she needs them...how...what if they need me tomorrow...They have taught me not to be weak...no never...i will not do this...no i will go back...catch the train home and go back...that is my escape...
And she hurried down the black, slimy stone...she slipped...she fell...silence....the ocean succeeded...she was a queen again....a reluctant one...but a queen all the same...