They all had a cycle, and wore nice bright shoes. They had really expensive bags. and their clothes are always fresh. They came to the school in the car, and always get what they want.
He walked to the school, wearing his old clothes. He took a hand-me-down bag, and wore very cheap shoes. He never gets what he wants, and only gets what was available.
Nobody knew the child's far cry, neither did he want them to know. He didn't know what to do, but he was determined to do something. He knows money isn't everything, but wonders why it's in every thing.
A disturbed sleep all night long. Something I missed at work disrupts my peace continuously and doesn't let me sleep. Subconscious is a background process that runs 24/7. I'm thinking if the issue can be solved or if it's going to create a big fuss at work. I open my eyes and the sun is already here. It's 7 o'clock. My brain orders me to get up at once, switch on the damn laptop, and fix the issue. But my body doesn't listen. It's lazy and it wants to sleep more. My two personalities are arguing with each other for a long time, sensing that it's a never ending argument, I interfere and get up from the bed.
Morning coffee , the popular thought is that this coffee would make you active. I'm thinking whether I'm a morning person or a night owl and I decide I'm neither, as I sip on the coffee. Yes, people like us do exist.
I switch on my laptop. As I analyse I figure out there's no mistake and I've lost sleep for no reason. I'm thinking about what an idiot I've been. I'm grumpy and cranky , and angry at myself for losing sleep.
I tell myself that I should have a work life balance but I don't think I'll listen to me.
During the short break times I check the mobile. Messages. Mails. News. NEWS. 9/10 news are depressing. Some thousands of people have died throughout the country. Some new disease in Canada , people have died for the same. This , that and finally, Lockdown extends !!!
None of my inner personalities are happy about it, they are all shouting unanimously and it's tough for me to control them. I get back to work and move on the news.
After work , this small sense of happiness comes to me that I'm free until 9 o'clock Monday morning. So I decide to watch a movie, eat what I like, chat with my fellow survivors and before I know, I'm back to bed.
Every day in the lockdown goes like this and everyday I think to myself when all of this will end. When will the world be normal again? What if this is how it's going to be always?
But, since childhood I've been taught not to lose hope even when everything else is lost. So I carry the hope , like the million other people in the world, that all of this will be over someday , that the world will become normal again. I doze off with the hope and a huge breath of relief.
They buried her memories in me– in an empty wooden frame All her moments, all her screams, all her lies, all her cries in this one wide frozen smile. Do you still remember the day when she first walked and how she fell thousands of times? I was still there, with a different frozen smile. Do you still remember the day when she spoke her first word? "Goodbye", she spoke. I was still there watching her predict the future. Do you still remember the day when she giggled and waved at a passing train, her tiny mouth uttering that newly learnt word? I was still there, in her hand like the friend who is always by her side. Do you still remember the day when she called the boy next door as her "lover"? I was still there laughing and waiting for two beautiful smiles to embrace me. Do you still remember the day when she was first heartbroken and she cried for hours just to forgive him? I was still there, empty with dented edges and broken glass, letting the photograph burn. Do you still remember the day when she wrote a letter to you all with a single word written on it? I was still there, helpless and letting her go. I wanted to tell her that it's okay, you are not a motionless photograph. I know you are broken but you are not a frame that can't be healed again. All these days, I was the closest thing to her, I am a dirty, old frame that still remembers her touch, that still remembers the taste of her tears, that still remembers the sound of her silence that still remembers the day she was lost. I still remember HER. Every day, I see them crying who buried her in me and I keep on reflecting that perfect smile of her as if she was never lost. But "She was lost in her longing to understand"