THE INK AND THE PAPER

But this time, I won’t let you

 color my scars again; For,

You are the ink and You are not

 supposed see the paper’s pain.

You’re not supposed to see the paper’s pain.

Like those disclaimers before the movies, I thought my life also bears no resemblance with others, just a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person is a pure coincidence. But the paper proved me wrong. The letters scribble on it mocked at me when I told them my story. And then I realized you were the ink to my papers. 

You came to me like a summer breeze , hot ,warm and making me restless. Your presence was something I have always feared. But slowly, as the summer turned into rains, and it started to drizzle, you showered me with your attention, love and care. And I started dreaming about your touch. Gone were those hostility and those ignorance. You made me come in terms of my past and made me spoon the threads of a beautiful dream. 

You know, we all are like these white papers. Everything leaves an impression. A dot, a line , a tangled mess of doodles, a tear drop or any stain, everything leaves an impression. Even some deep stretched wound of those who are close to us, leaves a mark. Still the paper remains white. Bearing all those scars on its soul, it craves for the ink which would see beyond the white of its heart. You were like that ink to me, Which poured itself empty on me and covered all those scars, with the color of its being. 

Sometimes I do wonder, Does a blank paper matters to ink , as much as the ink matters to it?. I often wonder, Does the ink feel proud to leave its permanent imprints on the heart of papers? Or its just another notch in its belt!? . Does it craves to touch that used sheet of paper, as much as the paper wants to be kissed again.!? Does the colorful ink ever gets intrigued by the blankness of the sheet!? I often wonder, does it know , how much it matters to the paper to bear it’s marks for the rest of it’s life!

 Unfortunately,no one asked the ink about it. Had they asked a new piece of paper could have refrained itself from falling in love with the ink. That’s the fault with the readers. They never ask. They only trust the ink. Had they known the deceptive nature of the ink, they could have tried to listen those suppressed sobs of the papers. The cries which still echos in the spaces between two words, the echoes which could be heard in the untouched parts between the lines.They could have seen the unrequited love which remains hidden in the commas and semicolons. And could have felt the torments of heartache which are witnessed by the periods and full stops. Had they known they could have stopped the ink from scribbling more and more poems on papers and in return stealing away bits and pieces of the innocence of the page. But unfortunately, no one ever asked, nor they have ever tried to hear.

You know. That’s why I blamed me, the people around me and you for what had happened between us. The way you touched me to the core, the way you drenched my heart with your tears and the way you made me fall in love with the protagonists of your stories. The way you kept on writing poems and stories about Us and the way you kept on Scribbling the lessons from the past. And the way you vanished from my life, without any bye, without saying anything had  left me craving for more . But no one ever cared. Not even  you! You’re supposed to steal my scars, you were supposed to color me with your kisses. I was supposed to take all the burden away from your heart. I was supposed to soak those tears of your bleeding heart. We both did our job. But in between I fell in love and you didn’t. Or was it like you said that you fell in love and left me waiting for you forever!? Had I known I wasn’t sufficient, I would have saved my self for someone else. For someone who after caressing me, wouldn’t have left me . Now see, I’m everything but blank . You will never come back to me. But someone will. Someone will come back and read me again and again. Someone will take me in hands caress those wounds given by you.He will be intoxicated by the way I smell, but would never know I have drowned myself in the aroma of yours.  Someone will fall in love with me. But he would never know me the way you did. He could never leave an impact on me the way you did. He would fall in love ; But not with me. He will fall in love with the girl you left behind. 

Time would change. The white of the paper would gradually turn into yellow. But the marks on it would still glow in pride. The words signed by the ink wouldn’t fade away. Time could not heal these wounds of the paper, it can only make it grow older with it. After some days, the corners would be tattered , but still those inks would matter. Those words, those wounds now define the paper. The scars she was trying to hide would now become her identity. May be the ink would return to it, after realizing it’s worth, but it wouldn’t be the same old blank sheet, naive and eager. The ink might try to reunite with it again, but that would only deepen the wounds, stealing away all the beauty of those scars. Now the paper knows, the ink and the paper were star crossed lover, for one has to die if they wish to remain together . 
I would not try to make you come back, but I’ll wait for you. Wait for the day when you will come back and see how you had helped me grow. How those small bits of your heart has now become the Alma matter of my survival. I would like to see that pride in your eyes, in the same time want to see that helplessness of not being able to touch me again. If you ever decide to come back, you will find me the way you left me, but what you couldn’t figure out would be the way I will flaunt my scars. For , I have learnt to believe in the power of being broken . For Now I believe in Scars being beautiful. 

I have crumpled myself. Tried to burn myself. I have leapt in to the ocean and I have flown into The hurricane, but no one had been able to erase those imprints. So I decided to flaunt them. I’m not going to tell them to you, coz you could never notice. Like a paper I haven’t been granted the power to pour my heart out. You are the ink, you are the one to speak. I was the one to get drenched and I’m still getting drenched. I’m yet to make people believe,that it’s not me but you. For the first time when I was drenched, it was raining blood from your heart. Now when I make people cry, I rejoice those tears, thinking it to be you. I’m living in these stolen moments, when people believe it’s my story and offer their condolences.

 But you know, I wish someday, they could see it all along. I wish they see the resemblance between the lies told by the ink and see the helplessness of the papers. In the same time I wish for you to see me, smiling and living without you in those stolen moments of yours. I don’t want you to see how much I have suffered. If you wish to come back, come n see how much you had mattered.

If you ever comeback,

I’ll be here waiting for you. 

With Those voids and some wounds too.

But this time, I won’t let you

 color my scars again; For,

You are the ink and You are not

 supposed see the paper’s pain.

You’re not supposed to see the paper’s pain.

🎭Nayana🎭

Just Another Phase…

But you will be treasured for life.

A/N – This is for all the people out there who have had either, numerous people to crush for or just one. Every single person goes through these feelings, sometimes it is lost, sometimes we are lost but all we keep with ourselves is memories.
And if it resembles any of your phases of lives it’s just a coincidence, this isn’t intended to hurt or showcase anyone’s personal feeling .

Happy Reading folks!

Waking up every morning, before rubbing my eyes open to the little notes of musings stuck on the wall of my room, I think and hope of meeting you and brightening my day manifolds.

With eyes closed I think of the encounter we had the day before. No exchange of words, no smiles passed, no tales attached either. Just a glance of you working as I walk past your workspace. That’s where everything started, started in my world to which you will remain forever oblivious.

Watching you engrossed in your work was the first thing I was hooked to in this place unknown.

One place, one crush.

This norm of mine didn’t even seek the need to be reminded of. In this crowd, the only face which made sense and I looked forward to was yours.

People fall for people who were meant to be just attractions.

I didn’t.

I didn’t fall for you, because I knew that the pure heart of yours had already got someone to nurture and love. All you meant to me was the light in the times of dark.

A single mention of your name, one look at your face and the bad day was already running for a cover.

There have been days when I have run errands just to have one glance of your hair, your hand, even your shirt. But it’s funny how in the times of crisis I never got to see you but again you have arrived during moments I least expected.

Years passed, more like in a blink of an eye, but now as this phase of life comes to a closure besides several other memories you and your workspace will turn into memories too.

There won’t be the same me zooming in and out of your work place looking for you. Tagging my friends along just to ensure I don’t get caught red handed looking and drooling over you.

There won’t be the same me getting teased in your name as I disclose “the name” to my friends. There won’t be the same me scrolling through the pictures of your good old days.

But one thing will remain unchanged, you will still be the light to my dark days. You are still going to be the reason for my laughter and smile when I will look back and search for the best of memories.

You will still be around but I will be long gone.

Gone to a different place and following the norm getting a new someone to crush for

… but you will be treasured for life.

~ Smaranika Dash

Mother’s Love. 

It’s more of a protective shield she casts on us, it’s there even if when she isn’t around making sure no evil can penetrate that shield of love and compassion.

 A/N- This is a very small tribute to all the mothers around the world traveling through lives of three mothers of the magical world. Hogwarts has portrayed several characters each of them having a life-long impact on all our lives. So this a little something for the Mother’s Love.

 
An invisible feeling which you can’t resist describing as beautiful, lest talk about the irony!

It’s something which was there when we were inside them, month after month and yet after all these years when we have reached our adulthood it still remains the same.
It’s more of a protective shield she casts on us, it’s there even when she isn’t around making sure no evil can penetrate that shield of love and compassion.

——————————————————————

This kind of love is universal, be it a red head pureblood or a blonde one. She knows what we need, she knows what we are going through, she helps us getting over tough situations, she offers a meal when no one around cares, she saves us even if we are the nemesis because she knows the side she supports is wrong, is bad, is evil.

And no mother will ever want a child, even if it’s not her own blood, to suffer a death, death will fear.

——————————————————————

Even if he isn’t able to make it through, there is Mother’s love in heaven too.

One mother reciprocates the gesture of another by taking her twin into her arms and treating, caring and showering love in all possible ways just to ensure he feels like the Burrow, it’s not much but it’s HOME.

________________************_______________

~ Smaranika Dash

Solace to the Soul… 

it has crossed my mind a billion times of asking him to let me be a permanent part of his life but the idea of rejection has always pushed away those thoughts, so it did today. Maybe today isn’t the right day.

A/N- Any resemblance to anyone’s personal life is a sheer co-incidence. The aim is not to target anyone’s love life but to hoosh the taboos of our societies.

Happy Reading Folks!

From where I stand I see a silhouette of a tall man, some six feet two-three inches tall, in his forties, looking across the valley amidst the setting sun searching for answers to the questions he has been asking himself for the past few years. And I know all he is being able to find is the reason for self-doubt and remorse. I have been a part of his life for the last three years, I have seen him face some ugly truths of life and some situations beyond the control of human emotions. But his dark clouds were swayed away by bright sunshine, his two little packets of joy Harsh and Avni. He did win the case of their custody, he parted his way from his wife, but there was this guilt of separating his kids from their mother. Little did he know his little angels were indeed his angels, they always stood up for their father. With all these incidents turmoiling their lives they moved to Chicago, that’s when we met, again.

In a short time, I became a part of their life. From helping them settle in the “Heart of America” to guiding him apply for universities, in helping the baby grownups find a school to dining with them on special occasions. With time, these occasional meetings started becoming frequent. And then I was there with them 24 hours, inseparable. Harsh and Avni had started building up a pleasant rapport with me, they were by far the best bunches I had come across.

The Earth kept spinning about its axis and revolving around the Sun and swiftly the days turned to months, we started getting closer. What I thought to be an infatuation started blossoming into love. This wasn’t a thing of mere months, it was a bond I had with him at first sight, when we first met, back in India. His tall figure, his stature, his confidence and humble attitude had intrigued me. The only difference is that he was a happy married man then, now he’s just another man in the pursuit of happiness.
And now, I stand here today looking at him and shifting my gazes between him and the ring in my hand, it has crossed my mind a billion times of asking him to let me be a permanent part of his life but the idea of rejection has always pushed away those thoughts, so did it today. Maybe today isn’t the right day. It’s like gravity when you release something it comes back to the ground that’s how science works. With people, if you set them free and they return to you then it’s yours forever, but if it doesn’t, maybe you are just on the wrong planet or he wasn’t the one, to begin with. Pushing away these thoughts as I walk towards him, slowly closing the spaces between us I suddenly hear him whisper my name. I keep my hand on his shoulder assuringly that I am here, have always been here, will always be here.
He looks back adjusting his glasses, smiling, he points at my messy hair unaware of his own. His stare hardens as if he is trying to say something, my lashes dropped instinctively giving him the permission to speak his heart out.
Sliding his hand into his pant pockets, he shows a ring and slides in my finger, “I have done this before yet I am more than ready to do it again. I have had once given my heart and soul to someone who was dear to me, more than anything else, yet I am here today asking you to mend my broken existence. Will you be the Mandrake to my petrified soul ?”
Tears welled up in our eyes slowly finding their way out, they escaped. It was different, cold surrounding, racing hearts, warm tears. “Yes!” I whispered, “only if you promise to be Professor Sprout and help me grow.” The light sobbings turned into a hearty laughter. I slid the ring I bought him. We stood there for a few minutes, arm in arm. I don’t know about the forever thing, but whatever happened today was meant to happen and it somehow made me feel complete. Hazel Grace’s words seemed to be true, I did live a forever in those numbered minutes.

~SMARANIKA DASH

Unrequited Love- Elixir of her life…

A/N- This thing is pure imagination any relevance of one’s personal life to the story is sheer coincidence and maybe you could thank me for writing it up for the world to read and being passed on to that one person in your life who hasn’t got a hint about your feelings.

Happy Reading folks! 

As the alarm gets snoozed for the umpteenth time,  the red eyes look into the mirror in front, yet another sleepless night. This has been her daily routine since she was 19. She never really cared to sleep, be it the Summer or Winter nights. In the race of leaving her friends behind her, she never realized how far she has come, away from her parents, away from her friends,  away from her one true love.

Ana, a girl of nineteen kept struggling with her own self for she was tired of being the ideal daughter,  tired of being looked at for defining the first born.  To the world she was the best one could wish for but nobody knew the Ana who died every time someone praised her for being someone she wasn’t. From being the darling daughter to the world’s best friend only the nights knew what she hid from the world. Right from the beginning, she was always expected to be bound by a set of rules set by her parents but how dearly she wanted to escape and leap over the boundaries was unknown to all. No one knew that the little girl too had a heart which begged for a little freedom with every beat. No one knew that even that little heart knew how to love,  love someone so deeply to let it go.

Falling in love with Ayan was the best thing that ever happened to her, which gave her the hope that maybe one day I will speak my heart out.  She never realized how much she liked him until she watched him fall for someone else. He never left her mind and she never crossed his.

Busied by her daily chores,  studies, in the race to prove her parents and society of her worthiness that love was buried somewhere deep in her heart. Yet one day when he knocked the door of her house. She saw him standing in front of her house from the window. Her heart skipped a bit with every step she took when finally she started leaping 3 steps at a time, gasping for breath she came to the door and opened it with a hearty smile, one she had lost in a long time. He came forward and hugged her, she pinched herself just to confirm she wasn’t dreaming.

He turned around and handed her a card, checking what’s within, her smile from meeting her long lost love turned to one filled with pain. It was his wedding card. She looked on as he left,  it had been over a decade after which she saw him and was perhaps the last time. Feelings of the past love came to her in a flash and passed by as a whooshing train.

Last night she celebrated her 60th birthday. Friends, colleagues all had gathered but her eyes searched for one man.As a daily routine, she went to the park the next morning for a walk where she met him again and this time with his wife.  He had aged a lot over the past 30 years but her love for him was as fresh as it was when she was 19.

People say problems can be fixed but unrequited love is a tragedy. But only she was able to turn this tragedy into the elixir of her life for the past 41 years and for the years yet to come.

-Smaranika Dash