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  • arya_abhipsa 4d

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
    11 April 2021
    09:35 am ( Sunday )

    ~//�������� ������������ ���� ������������ //~

    It is implausible to fathom out how the moon is never relished to its enigmatic extremes ;"specks of imperfections are sewn across its form too" they say . And I die a little in awe how it's fractions are assembled to flare a little brighter oftentimes when the stars aren't abundant to enshroud the emptiness of the sky .

    _ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅꜱ ᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ_��✨
    .
    @mirakee @writersnetwork #pod

    A little something to celebrate Sunday ��

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  • arya_abhipsa 1w

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
    7th April 2021
    20 : 56 pm ( Wednesday )


    Evening everyone !

    I don't know from where to start , I'm somehow , lacking enough words to say what I wanted to tell you all . This day already is the one I cherish the most . And now I've found many other reasons to do so . This year was the second time I celebrated my born day with you guys , and let me tell you , it keeps getting better and better with each passing year . You all , you've actually spoiled me so much with your wishes and your gifts that now I cannot even think of a 7th April without you guys . Thank you people , you made my day . Truly . No exaggeration, no sugarcoating , receiving your gifts was the best part of today just like it was the best part of previous year . No matter how many times I mention it and no matter in how many ways , I still feel that I'm not doing justice to my admiration and adoration for you all .

    So let's keep it simple . Thank you everyone , it was the best birthday of my whole 19 years . And the credit goes to you my darlings . I LOVE YOU ALL ♡

    I wanted to give you all something , even if it is not enough . Just to inform you all , this day also marks the day I completed 3 years being a part of the ARMY fandom , or better say , family . I just completed my first ever story ( which was a BTS fanfiction ) . So I'm putting a snippet of my favourite chapter from it for you all to receive it as my gratitude . Take it as a way I'm sending my deepest gratefulness for you all . The name of the story is "A STROLL IN SEOUL" . I hope you like reading it .

    Also , if you want to read the whole thing , just search up the name on Wattpad and you'll find it roaming around there .

    Thank you again guys .
    I adore you all ( ꈍᴗꈍ)♡

    ( Yours dearest )
    ©Arya Abhipsa

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    A Stroll In Seoul

    My gaze moved to my right and I craned my neck upwards to get a better look at the man beside me .

    His gaze wasn't something you would consider determined . Rather , it aimlessly wheezed past all the places it could reach . His ears - peeking out of the dusty coloured beanie - had turned a deep shade of pink because of the cold. He was still humming that little tune . It looked as if either the song was stuck in his head or its melodies suited that moment better .

    Out of the corner of his eyes , when he caught me looking at him , he stopped humming and looked down at me with what appeared to be smile that tugged at the skin around his eyes .

    This coming from all of a sudden flustered me but I somehow managed to offer a toothy grin in reply , curled some strands of hair behind my ear when he wasn't looking and gulped the nervousness down my throat .

    A plane flew above us and out of habit , I looked up at it , only to realise that the sky had grew darker as the moon was being shielded from human view by some clouds . This made the stars pretty vivid to the naked eyes .

    The wind - now not so strong as before - wheezed past us and the trees exhaled forcefully in unison , but the sound was hushed by the noise made by the plane passing over us.

    When it died down , the voice I had deeply fallen for made its way through the breeze , dressed up in a song that I heard everyday before sleeping .

    Taehyung had started to sing .

    It was muffled slightly by the mask he was wearing . But I couldn't bring myself to complain . I began swaying a little from side to side , crossing my arms in front of me . The moment - coupled with his voice - took everything inside me to stop me from getting my camera and phone out to click the beauty the man was immersed in and to record the voice that almost halted my breaths midtrack .

    His comfort mattered more to me compared to my foolish desires .

    All of a sudden , his singing stopped and prying my closed eyes open , I looked up at him only to catch him looking down at me.

    "You ... listen this song ?"

    "Yes ! This is my favourite ."

    "Ahh jinjja ?"

    The slight shiver of excitement in his voice pulled out a chuckle from my lips and I nodded with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

    "Yes !"

    I watched him as he tilted his head to the right and pulled out his mask , but only after a careful gaze around the place confirmed it for him that no one was possibly lingering around .

    My breaths hitched when his full face came into view and I hideously gulped down again.

    "We will sing ... together ?"

    I'm sure the surge of nervousness could be clearly visible dancing in my widened pair of eyes as I looked at him. It wasn't a lie - and as clichéd it may sound - I would often imagine myself singing a duet with Kim Taehyung whenever his songs would come blasting from my speakers.

    But actually singing in front of him and daydreaming to do the same were two completely opposite things.

    Heat and blood rushed to my face and I furiously shook my head in utter panic .

    "No ! No ! Taehyung I ... I am a really bad singer . I can ... I mean I can't do it ..."

    He began laughing when he saw the way I reacted . My eyebrows were pinched and an awkward smile fell on my face - in a silent prayer for him to understand how I was in vain .

    Of course, this man was used to all of this .

    "Ani !"He brought the forefinger and thumb of his left hand to show a little gap sandwiched in between .

    "Just a little ?"

    I was on the verge of denying again , for my nervousness had completely engulfed me in whole . But when his smile passed through my gaze , I found the difficulty creeping in to shake my head and proceed to utter another no .

    This maybe the one and only chance I will get . No matter how bad this will turn out , everything will be better than looking back and regretting saying no .

    I fidgeted nervously with my fingers .

    "Umm ... okay . I'll sing with you. "

    We cleared our throat simultaneously . I had my eyes glued to him and the fear of him catching me looking at him like a stargazer admires the lost stars on a moonless night - as far as I could tell - wasn't visible . Taehyung brought out his palms , blew on them and rubbed them together then pushed them again inside his pockets . He then glanced sideways at me , streetlights around us reflecting inside those black orbs of his and smiled a little which was followed by a bigger one on my lips .

    We continued walking for a second or two without speaking. The only sound I could make out came from our shoes clicking over the pavement and a nearby shop getting close , its owner mindlessly whistling to himself .

    My eyes were pulled towards the man walking beside me when he started singing .

    " On my pillow
    Can't get me tired
    Sharing my fragile truth
    That I still hope the door is open "

    Taehyung halted all of a sudden and our eyes met when he looked sideways at me watching him. The wind whistled in my ear , as if filling the empty void created by him - stopping midtrack . The moon was once again peeking from the clouds . Moon rays fell on his fine strands of hair dressed over his forehead and partially over the eyes of the man nicknamed Winter Bear . He looked angelic .

    And I lost my voice yet again .

    Even though not a single word was uttered by him , I knew what the little smile decorated over his full lips and a tiny nod from him meant.

    I couldn't resist a chuckle that escaped from my lips as a gleefully shuddering whisper and taking a deep breath , I began singing the remaining song with him .

    " Cause the window
    Opened one time with you and me
    Now my forever's falling down
    Wondering if you want me now

    How could I know
    One day I'll wake up feeling more
    But I had already reached the shore
    Cause we were ships in the
    Night ... Night ... Night ..."

    My voice - at first - came out as soft mumers chasing Taehyung's deeper and a bit louder one and we were accompanied by the leaves - the ones still alive rustling like fine silk from the trees beside us and the ones lying dead crunching under our shoes . But I got a slight bit louder when we continued singing the rest of the song . My voice was entangled with Taehyung's and overall , the melody came out as more beautiful that I had expected .

    He would look down at me from time to time and nod in encouragement. And in reply , I would just give him a smile paired with a shrug .

    Our walk had gotten more idle and unfocused . He was taking small strides to match my long ones . We were walking close enough for our elbows to bump into each other from time to time . A sweet odour of strawberries came from him and I couldn't like anything more then and there .

    I was feeling so at ease .

    The shop Taehyung was talking about soon came into view and I realised that after a couple of more steps , we would be at our destination.

    There was an excitement within me that was growing an inch everytime I thought about eating his favourite food with him and talk to him for a little while longer.

    But it couldn't be denied how the mere thought of our little walk and singing session - soon turning into nothing more but a memory - saddened me so deeply , I couldn't help but start taking smaller strides in the foolish hopes of reaching the place a little late .

    That night , below the sky - the city of Seoul had owned - walking on the empty streets accompanied by the twirling dried leaves , as my hair - a bit tangled by then - flew behind me when pulled by the chilled gush , broken by a lot of pain but stitched back with all the contentment I was being offered , I knew that this was the first and the very last night I was spending with him - completely devoid of the fear of sharing that moment with anyone else.

    And as I walked further down the road with him , our song finally coming to a majestic end and the shop now just in front of us - considering this was our last walk together - I was trying my best to learn how tenderly beautiful yet heart wrenching the very last moments are that you spend with the person you deeply admire - for admiration is all they deserve . And that too knowing that these moments , when the day will come to an end , will dissolve into memories carrying the potential to peek into your present and push your way past into another door of nostalgia .

    My dream had come true in the most wondrous way I could ever imagine , ever expect .

  • arya_abhipsa 1w

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
    6th April 2021
    19:07 pm ( Tuesday )

    ~// ������������������ ���������������� , ���������������� ���������� //~


    My ears can still hear the leftovers of that bleached laughter we dissolved into last year , as it reverberates within the four blemished walls of the now abandoned home . My vision is still calloused with the salty stains of tears that got evaporated with apologies and forgiveness before an unfamiliar gaze could scrap them off . My breath flinches when the lamented aroma of evening coffees and burnt morning pies touches it and I can sense my stitched bronchioles denying to accept a little more of the whiff as my lungs continue to pull it all in .


    The grieving tissue under my feet bleeds as I step on a fractured vase that's not even there . I don't even look at the wound anymore . "Let it stay there . Untouched ." So I let my blood contaminate the white floor . "Maybe that will catch your attention ?" Friction sandwiches between my fingertips rubbing against the faded section of the farthest wall and my gaze lingers there a bit more , the nails from which our pictures hung , still intact . And I catch myself straightening the invisible dusty Victorian frames – clearly too bulky and old for your memories , but resembling a speck of dust beside my recollections .


    My lips tremble and the air knocks out from my hungry lungs when truth drags me towards the door , consequences too willing to slam it on my face and submerge the rusty keys some thousand feet under the land I had once sowed your favourite daisies on . "It's all dispersed here ." Mumbles my greedy nostalgia . "No nothing's here. It's all abandoned now !" Howls my malnourished reality , stomping on the saplings of pretty lies in front of the home , now set ablaze in front of my eyes . I'm yanked away from it . And the rage of my reality haunts me to the point I don't dare to even turn around and look back and see what lives and what dies .


    They say when we look up at the stars , we're actually peeping into the past . And the juggernautic aggregates of gases and heat – holding potentials to mollify even the coldest of hearts – might have been buried dead long before our vision could settle on them , comprehending their presence in a sky dressed in blacks . Isn't that's how we search for those wrinkles of giggles , stuffed with breaths of wickedness we have fallen for in people who once seemed home ?


    Should I say it this way then ?


    _____ "�������� ���� �������� ���� ���� ������ �������� ���������������������� �������� �� ������������ �������������� , �������� ���� �������� ���� ���� ������ �������� ���������������� �������� ���������� ������������������ ���� ���������������� �������������������� , �������� ���� �������� ���� ���� ������ �������� �������� �������������� �������� �������������� �������� ���������� �������������� ������ ��������" _____

    ( "����'���� ���������������� �������������� �������� ������ ��������" )��✨

    — an ode to my departing 18th year


    ©Arya Abhipsa
    .
    @mirakee @writersnetwork #pod #wod #obituary

    Ps. And this is how you realise that the writer studies Biology ! I'm just so tired out of work . Glad this was typed earlier ��

    Thank you @writersnetwork for leaving a ♡

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  • arya_abhipsa 2w

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
    3rd April 2021
    10:15 am ( Saturday )

    ~//�� ������������ �������� ���� ���� ������//~

    April always mothers the most delicate blossoms , blanketing the numbness the winter's snow melts into . Maybe , it was the spring chorusing of your arrival under it's light breaths that guarded the month from being ripped off by the icy cold winds sent forth by the concluding months of the year gone by , that once appeared too earnest to keep playing it's trickery throughout the year .

    Oftentimes , you've mentioned , how you're not good at expressing whatever saunters past the folds of your heart . But the tiny tokens of love , dipped in the tender sentiments of a beauteous friendship - your messages and your compliments mumble about - makes me question if that's really the case ?

    ( Or am I too lucky for recieving them secretly ? )

    I've discovered how there is something so divine about the people who claim to be at fault for not being able to express what they feel . Because everytime their words accolade you , everytime you catch them red handed scribbling little poetries for a human heart , you realise how they've plucked some of the stars they're made of and have willingly presented them to you after wrapping their admiration for you in them .

    Maybe all of this is the reason why our messages are my safe place huh ?

    No matter what kind of day is all set to wretch my emotions , reading our clownery chit chats and your little compliments below my proses makes me feel that I'm someone to be cherished as well . It's been less than 365 days since we welcomed you into our home here and even lesser since I came across a lost pal in you . But see your impact you wondrous woman ! You were one of the few people I forwarded a letter to when a desperate 2021 knocked on our doors and even now , I'm penning down another one as you're gorgeously growing up .

    I feel blessed to have you as one of my crazy companions here . And this is a heartfelt desire of mine that we remain like this throughout the coming years too.

    I'll visit my birthplace for sure someday and out of the blue, will surprise you by knocking at your door in Assam , carrying a foolish smile as always . And we will have a splendid meal of some good fish curry together !

    Just wait for that day !
    ( Closing my letter with love ...)

    ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴀᴍᴍʏ @tamanna3

    From your lovingly ,
    Aryu ��✨

    P.s. Hope you liked the edit ♡
    #tambirthday

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  • arya_abhipsa 2w

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
    28th March 2021
    10:26 am ( Sunday )

    ~//������������ ���� ������������//~

    The dwarf freckles dusted on her cheeks , just below her hazel eyes - mimicing preserved globes of honey that oftentimes remain just a secret behind the bulky frames of her glasses - are drenched under the shimmers of the morning sun today , that plant a kiss on them everytime she squints looking up . They look as if God has Himself watered the seeds of an infantile intimacy there that carry the unwritten love letters of her hidden admirers her smile has left behind .

    And why are the seeds of this intimacy scattered across her cheeks ?

    Because the earth underneath our dirt laden shoes is heavily littered by the debris of an undeserved distaste . And love craves for a safer haven like an exhausted old couple taking a shade below a tattered roof during rains . Sturdy saplings of affection grow from her cheeks everytime her soggy eyes fail to confine her emotions - something she's unapologetically guilty about . Flowers blossom into life beneath her eyes everytime a chuckle breaks free from her lips .

    And I just make a fool of myself everytime I sit down to let my thoughts run astray . "Why does my gaze settles upon her even when I'm sitting below the stars on another night devoid of the moon ? Damn ! she's beautiful and all this fragile heart of mine yearns for her to realise it someday . Someday ."

    _____�������� ���� �������� ������ ������ ���������� ��������������
    ������ ������ ������ ���� ���������� ���� ������������ ,
    ���� ��'�� ������ ������ �������� ������ �������������������� ����������������_____��✨

    ©Arya Abhipsa
    .
    @mirakee @writersnetwork #pod

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  • arya_abhipsa 3w

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
    21 March 2021
    10:50 am ( Sunday )


    ~//������������ ���������� ������������//~

    Something is always so intricate about lazy cities hushed under dark nights . Mud and dust caked under your shoes , you linger across the places of visits – it has gift wrapped for you – under the command of a blazing sun . And in return , you hold your breaths as silent applauds and let yourself get taken away – like soulless leaves under the vivacious gush .

    But when night takes the reins and the crystallised city lights grab the chilled palms of moonbeams to lighten up the path of curious city dwellers and worn out pedestrians , you feel like with every tiniest step you take deeper into the heart of the city , your heart drums under the ribcage a bit faster .

    _________ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀᴛᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɪꜱ ɪᴛꜱᴇʟꜰ ʙᴀʀʀᴇɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ_________��✨

    ©Arya Abhipsa
    ·
    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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  • arya_abhipsa 8w

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
    19 : 50 pm

    ( in the name of completing an year at the place I truly belong - ARMY Chatroom )
    #bts #ARMY #ARMY_ROOM

    mismatched pair of eyes
    hunts for a homely presence
    the delicacy yet robustness of emotions
    melts away the outlines of any audacious
    harshness
    the aroma of cookies baked by two calloused
    hands
    blurs away the reeking brutality of the day

    my vision claws into the earth
    for phosphenes lost from my eyes ,
    here they lie

    a dusty wooden shelf pressed into a corner
    dressed up in coffee and tear stained books
    carries tales that put the world into shame
    pictures of ancestral memories
    reeking of long lost loves
    draped into old vintage frames

    my lungs expand into space
    for the breathe I had once held
    here it belongs

    midnight poetries scratched across
    the blemished blue walls
    that ricochet the darling melodies
    suspended in midair

    my footsteps trip on this scathered ground
    for the dwellings my fictionalised
    fantasies have built
    here it assembles

    /here it is , the home I yearn for/

    "ain't we all are just tragic little stories , searching for snuggly accomodations in historical manuscripts , engraved upon people's hearts ?"

    Happiest 1st anniversary my darlings ! ��

    ©Arya Abhipsa

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #pod

    Thank you so much @writersnetwork for the heart !

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  • arya_abhipsa 15w

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

    31 December 2020
    15 : 00 pm

    And we come to wrap seasons in blankets of doubt only when it's December , when all the while the parched autumnal leaves will be sandwiched between the crispy pages of our diary , bookmarking the day we last dared to scribble a poetry because that day , winters had knocked on our doors . These dried leaves , acknowledged as 'appealing' only after losing the skin that had kept them alive , do not smother only the rough paths , but their beauty blindfolds our eyes too . And we fail to learn , every year , how autumn is the graveyard of summers .

    The leaves that once fluttered in air drenched with invisible droplets , under the 12pm sun , are lying dead on the roads now , screaming with pain under the worn out shoes of that destitute traveller who once seeked a shelter under them , but now forgets to stop for a second and pick a handful of them , to bury them deep when the verdant weather passes by .

    And December ? It has always been an eunoic folk , ready to be announced as "tyrannic" for the sake of October . Snow sprinkled from the sky blankets every path the parched leaves breathed their last on , hushing the mourns of the mother tree , who watches her children lying dead underneath . Watch the snow making sure the autumnal breeze that once shook the branches a bit harder don't remain questionable anymore .

    "Perhaps you , my love , has a little more of December and a little less of October than all of us ."

    ~whelving the pointing fingers deep
    ( wrapping up the year )

    ©Arya Abhipsa


    _________________

    @mirakee @writersnetwork #pod #arry_wnrepost

    Do you all remember me somehow ? ����

    @writersnetwork Am I dreaming ? Thank you for this new year gift . Wishing you a happy new year too !! Thank you for reading , liking and reposting this . We adore you WN :)

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  • arya_abhipsa 17w

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

    14 December 2020
    21 : 58 pm

    Dearest A N G E L ,

    Do You remember that lovely yet funny poem Tae wrote for his brothers “IT’S NOT A BIG DEAL!“ I hope you laugh a lot after reading this too….

    [ IT’S NOT A BIG DEAL ]

    It’s too hard sometimes, you were right when you wrote about the pain of your heart shattering into pieces, I feel that right now, weak and unhappy for reasons I don’t know..
    Yet, its not a big deal .

    Our lives have changed a lot, forced to live indoors , staring at blue screens for hours, days and weeks , instead of at those autumn leaves that fell for the zephyr , a now at the snowflakes welcoming the December .Waves of hope and joy of a new year .
    But, its not a big deal.

    When I’m writing these words, my heart finds solace in the aureate glow of the memories we shared. People who failed to see what you are - friends, classmates , all those who said that you are either too much or not enough ,
    wasted too much of their time judging you, and yet you let them take over your dreams? Your happiness?
    You know its not a big deal.

    You are still that young girl with those jewel eyes that sparkle and don’t you worry about those tears, you will smile through them like a winner, embracing the falling confetti. Isn’t it so strange , our whole life we try to be as real as possible , but end up being fake, worthless and lost.
    Still its not a big deal.

    But there were times when you told me, “Its alright . You will be fine !” and it did . So I’m rooting for that strong girl who taught me to look at the world in a better way . So let people create chaos and destroy themselves .
    Its not a big deal .

    //You are alone in this mess Angel . But we all are alone, fighting our insecurities and embarrassments. It's not a big deal . I just want you to know that, no matter how hard it was, it is or it will be , our plan is to fight// ( together……forever……)
    We are we are forever bulletproof!!!!

    ~ With love ,
    ( yours ) A N E Z K A @the97_introvert

    __________________________

    The way your fierce essence bestowed warmth to every single part of a cold body which was nothing more than a dead house of anxiety. The way you embraced darkness to reach the light. I have admired you, for what you are, for what you were. I will always admire you for what you are yet to be. To overcome the fear don't run, don't hide feel the fear, walkthrough, sink in fear and burn the fear.

    If you win, Sun wouldn't mind giving you the first glimpse of dawn every day. If you lose, delightful yet spooky dusk is always yours learn from it, Every ceasing sunset leads to the path of initiating sunrise. You who made a cloud of imagination on your own which rains the tiny drops of love and bucket full of confidence. After being entangled with inner demons and outer world. You came out to be the strongest women whose tears are the pearls of the ocean.

    //Thank you for always being kindest one//

    ~ With love
    ( yours ) A L T H E A @fairytales_

    ___________________________

    You became that love , that you never received. You made love yourself .Love isn't easier to be made for oneself . It takes strength , it takes time , it takes a pure commitment . Love is angelous , it has to take in pain to make love . And to prepare love for oneself takes loneliness , care and faith , faith to support even when our shadow goes missing . Fears abvolate when you love
    yourself . Doubts drown in the ubuntu of self love .

    This kind of love , the self love feels "heavenly" when it is received from
    "a stranger called ( y o u )"
    You make yourself a heliophile . You're precious to "the one's" who found you .

    //A 52-hertz whalien left alone//
    still alive with some hope diving along waters
    It's tears unnoticed , but they're ! Actually !
    We love it ! We're just like the blue whale , belonging to the same specie , we know eachother

    ~~ A golden spring seasoned by
    magical winter wonderland ~~

    You're the realest person alive , while walking on the clouds or while tears brimming in your eyes . You're that flower that people don't chose , that won't get to be trampled , that won't be the "proof / sign" that's
    (t e m p o r a r y )
    You're that flower , that God made to stand high on the mountains , that the God himself shall smile at and be happy seeing you progress . He's happy seeing you fine in storms , warm in winters , merry in every phase of life . You're not meant for wordly pleasures and signs . You're not meant to be known by others .

    You're meant to be known by the God ( who made you - to live ). You're made as the star who won't fall or won't twinkle . You're the sun meant for galaxy .

    // A sun's never meant to be dark if the galaxy
    is wrong , there shall be another galaxy
    that's waiting for you to shine upon //

    ~ With love
    ( yours ) A U R O R A @thesunshineloves

    _____________________________

    ( To the girl who flips the pages of her favourite stories under the moonlight , who traces the outlines of dragons between the clouds , who giggles when a shooting star escapes her sight , who secretly believes in magic , who dreams , this is for y o u )

    There are times when I'm guilty of wondering about the slight hint of foolishness caked on your heart , the kindest of its kind . Your innocence treats the world thinking it to be blessed with a heart like yours , pumping every second to keep the endangered beauty alive . You pour gallons of water onto the rocky paths , patiently waiting for it to turn green someday . But the idea of benevolence has somehow lost the audacity to bloom and breathe in open , it secretly mumbles how it feels safer wrapped around your soul .

    Your eyes can't see the people they truly are , the reflections travel a bit deeper into the icy layers of millions of hearts , landing directly on the person they have the potential to be , but don't have the courage to become . With a trembling smile , you break parts of yourself , offering them till the day they make you feel empty , forgetting to stitch you back. That mind of yours goes on searching for angels inside demons , leaving them to wonder how a good heart knows so much pain .
    Little do they know ...

    We all enter this world slightly marred , slightly broken ( stepped on blooms with awkward smiles , looking for a glue , they have named as / love / ). You've pushed , wept shattered , stumbled , they called it a disaster , the worst of its kind . But everytime my vision falls upon you , I find the audacity to call you beautiful , "cause you're !"

    Stomped on flowers , smeared with the dust sticking to our boots , still manage to grow . So will you .

    These people , this world , what if it fails to see the beauty of your thoughts you've weaved into garlands ? Don't you see how it is still busy in collecting the fallen petals , still learning the alphabets ?

    When your numb fingers will travel through the tangles of your hair strands , when a chuckle will leave your parted lips while you watch people falling in love , when your boots will crunch the dried up autumn leaves and you'll pick a handful of them , breathing their faint aroma , listen closely to the tune they'll play .

    //That day , the masked singer will be
    unmasked again and the world will come to
    learn , who were you before they broke you
    and who you chose to become when your
    own fingers stitched you back//

    ~With love
    ( yours ) A M A R Y L L I S @arya_abhipsa

    From your beloved ,
    N E F E L I B E T A S

    __________________________

    We can't reach out to you personally , but we hope our words will do that for us . Happy birthday to you once again !! We adore you !
    @ak_anjali_daydreamzz

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #pod
    #suga_bday #daechwita_bday

    Thanks a ton @writersnetwork for the kind read and like !

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  • arya_abhipsa 17w

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

    14 December 2020
    00 : 00

    ( Letter to a beloved December born )

    DEAREST BAE ,

    December is here , cuddling it's children in his bare , icy cold arms , the children he has fondly named as Winter Gales , Snowstorms , Dewdrops and Frozen Clouds . These kids find their simple childish pleasures of life by making the sun their own , it's warmth they've madly fallen for and leaving the world and all of us beneath them shivering before cuddling the warm blankets and smooching the cup of hot chocolate .

    What wicked folks they're !

    Ain't this month a bit mightier than the other elevens , courageous enough to announce how the once awaited year is finally ready for departure when the month , itself comes to a halt ? December knocks on our doors and in its welcome song , we all sit down beside the fireplace to count the days remaining in that year , the days which will never knock on our doors again , our huffed breaths slowly promising some festive carols on the 25th . But wait , we don't start the count from 1 do we ? It goes something like this …

    31 , 30 , 29 , 28 , 27 . . .

    And the day we reach at day 1 , we stop midtrack and take a look back at our snowy and clumsy footprints we have imprinted on the diary pages of this year , some stumbling , some confident , some lazy , some careful , others a bit careless . The footprints recite tales of unfulfilled or fulfilled desires , unappreciated or appreciated accomplishments , unwiped or wiped tears , inaudible or audible laughters and starting the clock again , from a pair of zeroes , we start the count again from 1 .

    There's a tender hint of beauty hidden deep within the icy layers of December . In between the nostalgia of a long gone autumnal gush over deserted roads that waltz alongwith the abandoned crimson leaves and the long awaited spring that unfolds the dozing off flower buds , there lies this season , the
    / w i n t e r s /

    Hope might look frozen , but it is camouflaged in the warm cup of my mom's tea , in the lovingly knitted sweaters and mittens knitted by my granny , in the soft furry blanket my dad wraps me up at night , in the wintry white snow that makes me shrug off my love for the bright hues of spring , when the frozen snow dazzles under the fragile icy sunrays and lastly , / in your pen and your soul that is adorned by the power to stop the beating heart and is clothed in a kindness to make the numb heart beat again . /

    What are you my love ? Are you a mere human walking along with us , tracing the rough paths of life or the safest shelter for kindness , love and a power to move the world just with your scribbled poetries ?
    To be honest , I'm in favour with the latter a lot more .

    You complain of blue ink spilling all over your dress or stopping your thoughts on the paper mid sentence . I know the poor thing well . These consequences result from its astonishment when it inks your thoughts . Look at it closely , ain't it a bit nervous ? Nervous to wonder if it is brave enough to present a piece of your thoughts , a piece of you , in front of this world.

    This month couldn't be more kinder when it offered us one of the greatest poetries , that being / y o u /
    And I'm left to wonder , if you're another of December's daughters , hidden from this cruel world by the fatherly protection of this month or are you his secret inspiration and the reason even the icy month looks so appealing . ( I'm left to wonder )

    My hands that once carried the fallen dried leaves of autumn are now waiting to get mositenend with the coldness of winter's snow . Yes , it's freezing cold , but your words and your smile warm it all . The world might be feeling fragile under the frozen sky , but oblivious it is to the fact that all of us are homing inside our hearts , / a small sapling of beauty / that is slowly growing to unfold itself

    ~ when the warm months of spring will knock on our doors again

    ~when the sky will wake up again opening the doors for the sun that will drench the sleeping pansies in its warm love , cooing "rise and shine my darlings"

    ~when the sunbeams will knock on the doors of the butterflies again

    ~when the flowing river will look welcoming again

    ~when the skin on our bare arms will be burning underneath the sun , but we will continue to dance again

    A small flower of hope grows in us , a bigger one of love grows in you .
    // Just like December , you're a
    crystallised apricity too //

    ~ From your beloved ,
    ARYA
    ______________________________

    Happy birthday ( Saeng il chukayo ) bae
    ( @ak_anjali_daydreamzz )

    @mirakee @writersnetwork #pod
    #daechwita_bday #suga_bday

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