There's an unsettling calm as the forenoon paces to afternoon, and the guests start retreating  to their homes. It feels as though the forenoon devoured every shard of joy Eid had colored the day with. There's a stifling sadness in the dusk as the reclining sun throws its yellow birches upon the mountains of peer Panjal painting everything yellow- the metaphorical-sadness reeks through air .The ambiance is imbued by settled melancholy till the next dawn.

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Every lover was unique
So were their idiosyncracies,
and their betrayals equally.
When the sky gets clear of dark clouds
My heart Leaps with joy,
dancing to its rash old brags,
perhaps craving for another
doomed love,
But the voice inside Whispers:
Never again.

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An eerie sadness descends and ubiquitously sprawl in the space. All the hues of the unsettling ambiance- the misty air, the fog and thaw heightened the settled melancholy making the heart sink in the chasm of melancholy reminiscing broken promises and brittle vows. December comes with melancholy.

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Curling around your memories, I knit with my untamed imagination the scenarios where I wonder with amazement as what could have been if we took the leap of faith, but alas! Life is not imagination, and time is not static.

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Love a labyrinth where every strand demands surrender, is not transactional, for love is contrary to conditioning. Love is an ever flowing river where you can just jump into and swim along the tide . It is a thrilling ride. It entails humanity in you. It demands selflessness. Love isn't a fleeting sentiment but a grand adventure, a narrative that asks not for mere bystanders but courageous souls willing to immerse themselves fully. It holds within its depths a truth that transforms, a journey that transcends the ordinary.

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Parting is so potent a force that people who had only talked are now communicating through a distance without uttering a single word.

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Out of vague illusions
you create a deep conviction,
just to get yourself annihilated
by the very falsity of it .

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Some just show it
And don't mean it
Some just mean it
And don't show it,
In showing and not meaning,
Not meaning and showing
Life's prime is past

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The most crippling form of loneliness is not relating to people who you are surround with

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May the city's sunset be requiem to the sagging pull of the abyss, your soul has been trying to get rid of.

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