Monochromatic Perceptions

  We all are bleeding. We don't see it with naked eyes, but as we grow old our heart tears everyday. Everyday is a fight against the odds in our hearts and we try to avoid them, run away from them, make them crumble up into a ball of paper and throw them into the dustbin, and everytime we fight, we bleed. We are unaware of the pain we suffer everyday, blinded by the materialistic accomplishments and convinced happiness. Or may be we are aware. We see us change everyday. We repent to look at ourselves in the mirror coz our eyes scream, it screams the truth we often try to hide with our blinded emotions. But these eyes , these petty eyes do not have much to offer. Everyday it dies a little. Everyday, we die a little.  But there are days when we can't run anymore. All these emotions demands to be felt. The sadness and pain hits our head like a hammer. It keeps hitting us again and again, demanding their rights to get noticed and finally they succeed. They over power us, drown us

There will be a house. A house on hills. Not a very fancy one, but a small one. Big enough to fit in a bed beside a long window, a kitchen and a garden outside. There will be curtains all around the house. White , embroidered curtains, so that when the sun comes in, it fills the floors with shadows of different shapes. I ll sit there in the afternoon, gazing at the sun and thinking how beautiful it makes my house look. I ll click a picture or two, with the flowers in my garden, the bright green grass with the dead leaves and broken petals fallen on them. There will be a bookshelf, filled with books. I ll have time then, i ll read and re read all the books I love. And there will be a little corner in my house, the cosy one, the one corner which makes one feel safe and protected. The one where I ll sit on those rainy days with a heavy heart listening to Chopin with a cup of black tea mixed with a tinge of ginger and no sugar.  But there will be a part in the house, left untouched and em