After the white came the neon.

After the work came the party,

After the chair came the swing.

Was the new experience a lie?

Or was it just a high?

Was it an adrenaline rush?

Or just another episode to hush?

Call it whatever you may,

What’s in a name anyway?

-

She wanted to say something but bit her lip,
Swallowed her words like a poisoned sip.
As she danced and swayed her hips,
Her heart in the ocean of agony took a dip.

No, never did she say the truth or lie,
Maybe she was very hurt and not shy.
Her eyes said what the words wouldn't,
She did want to say something, but just couldn't.

She never expected a fairytale,
Just something real as a handwritten mail.
The gifts, the memories never went stale,
Neither did the colour of her emotions go pale.

What should she do now, she thought,
Forget it and move ahead like one ought.
Tired of the feeling her heart had caught,
Was this a war? Or just another battle faught?

-

Tell her...
...that not everyone is ready to heal,
...that people won't like what you reveal,
...that someone would want your lips to seal,
...that people put a mask on what they feel.

Tell her...
...that they maybe not be ready to deal,
...that people want the darkness to conceal,
...that she needs to wait till the future unveils,
...that nothing but only the time heals.

"Till then,
Let the tears flow,
It hurts I know,
Just take a bow,
And work on your glow."

-

Pain or joy, every emotion it helps us to vent,

Obvious and sometimes oblivious is the
content.

Eagerness to understand its context is seen,

Theme one, yet for different people differently
it may mean.

Range of topics? It can be anything at all!

Y hesitate? maybe writing is your call!

-

You came close,
Then you fell apart.

You came together, you cherished,
Everything was sweet at first, like an apple tart.

"It is such a beautiful feeling!", you said,
Wish you had realised that it was just the start.

You are 'meant to be' was your thought,
Two minds, but just a single beating heart.

Then came a day came when it dawned upon you,
That things have ended with your sweetheart.

The promises you'll made to each other,
Poked you like it does in a game of dart.

The desires you expressed to them,
Are still vivid in your head like a colorful chart.

It pains when you know that the unforgettable
memories and the experiences you felt,
Will now quietly exist only in the form of art.

-

Memories are strange like that you see,
One of them will make you smile,
The other one will put off your glee.

Each Memory is very different,
One of them will help you look forward and dream,
The other one will be like a nightmare and stay like a dent.

Memories do have an immense impact,
Sometimes they bring tears,
Sometimes with smiles we react.

Memories are nothing but a symbol that
Life isn't going to be the same always,
And we need to create beautiful
memories wherever we are at.

-

But in the end...
All that remains are the memories....

A memory of laughter
A memory of sadness,
A memory of pure love
And a memory of bitterness.

But in the end...
All that remains are the thoughts...

Thoughts which mattered
Thoughts that we cared,
Thoughts that they meant something,
And thoughts of the memories we shared.

In the end...
All that remains are the words...

Words that they said,
Words that we said,
Words that we both wanted to say,
But remained unsaid.

-

Sacrifice..
Isn't just a word, it's a feeling.
A feeling of giving others,
A feeling of doing something for another.
It isn't just a word, it's an emotion.
An emotion which says that you care,
An emotion which reminds others
that someone is there.
It isn't just a word, it's an actual deed.
A deed which satiates the hunger
and quenches the thirst,
Also a deed that provides aid
when the times are worst.
It isn't only a noun, but also a verb.
Sacrifice is a win-win situation in reality,
Where the both the parties experience
the feeling of humanness in totality.

-

Raj found something in his cupboard. Looking at it, he realised that his assignments, friends, canteen, college fest had all been replaced. They were replaced by his reports, colleagues, tiffin and corporate meetings.

He realised that a bag, doesn’t just carry books; it carries infinite memories.

-

The opposite of start or begin

-