Life, In Strokes.

His hands mapped almost every goose bump on her body. The evening light, fighting not to depart, stood still to savour her glittering smile.

Intensity, in all its purest form arose like a million suns, deep in her eyes.
The pain. The love. The hate. The faith. And the fate, all came together, tightlipped.

Every stroke slithering hurriedly to release their agony of non-existence, came alive as his brush and mind exploded in the canvas.

Soul Defragmented

Innocence is like a lamb that lives at the mercy of its master. Redeem it, and start all over again. It's a hot white canvas at the helm. Crash ahead and play it the way you always wanted.

Rules? They are made to deceive. Critics? They are your dark side; pledge your ears carefully. Dreams? They are like a mirage that breaks open new barriers. Change? It's a temporary mask that camouflages reality. Transform- perhaps that's what is closest to compromise.

Go, the time is yours.

Yes, because I love you...

They share almost everything that comes between the earth and the sky. Be it the rains, the heat, the storm. They hardly complain about road-like driveways, bustling traffic, soaring temperatures and politics. The woman, who's in her twilight years, runs a coffee shop besides the newly opened dusty bypass road. She has a lean, light-brown 4-legged companion, some call him and his likes 'stray dogs'.

As the first truck stops by for a refreshing cuppa, his ferocious woofing becomes her daily wake-up call. He's a bit more than a friend to the woman. They talk. They fight. But their love is truly enviable.

On a hot and sunny afternoon, an orange seller who stopped by for a caffeine break, offered an orange to the woman. With a sudden rush, the woman looked around and yelled her heart out to offer a slice of bliss to her only friend. And with pure hesitation the stray boy sniffed the peel and accepted the woman' s offer with 100% discontent. For his love for her was beyond the taste of the orange.

Change. And you have precisely 6 months.

Those were the last few words of the head chef hovering in the mind of the newly joined cook of a star hotel. The cook went back to the kitchen thinking of the days when his recipes were the ones that pleased the taste buds of the kings and the queens of his era.

His aspirations were shredded into pieces like those tender chicken found in a soup. His dishes were no more considered as hot-selling stuff or the choice of the new-age globe-trotting someones.

Onions & potatoes were now competing with the gold rates, and the cook still dreamt of making onion salads... The head chef''s comments came like a monster that was waiting for his prey, he said, "Why in hell's sake don't you think big and different?" Unfortunately or fortunately, the cook had never in his life touched any of those biographies or success stories of the world's best chefs.

Whilst cutting the vegetables, the cook was wondering whether he should learn cuisines like Chinese, Thai, Italian, etc... And for some time he felt as if he was jinxed in a world that's null and void. He thought he existed in a vacuum space, where he saw the head chef criss-crossing a knife like the sword of a gladiator.

With a loud bang in his ears, the head chef's voice once again intruded like a drop of oil that was taking a roller-coaster ride in the water pool. The head chef said, "Today we are gonna surprise our customers with the dishes that delighted the orient world." The cook still perplexed in his thoughts; as to why was one forced to eat something that someone had liked somewhere.

This thought kept coming in his mind very often, and the day it burst like a volcano, he decided to call it off and get out of the delusions that overpowered his courage & beliefs. He went on and walked the path, which was not the eleventh commandment imposed on him...

And never mind, if it took 6 months or 6 years to reach somewhere...