Fear of the phone

The ringing phone lets her down. She hates it unlike in the past where the wait for its beep used to be the sweetest. How swift changes can be!

That night she held it tenderly for one last time before everything changed for her. And, when she woke up from her dreams the next day she promised never to be the same again. The truth was she could not. Not, even if she wanted to.

Gifts once given are not to be taken back. And, innocence once lost is lost for good. But, that day she resolved that if there was anything that she ever would live for it has to be her innocence that has been taken away. It was not a gift given, her thoughts wondered. And, her heart thundered at the thought of the abrupt change in her little world.

The phone stops ringing. She is hugely relieved. The darkness gets less dark. I shall get it back, she murmurs. And, then she walked away. Far enough not to hear the phone again…






Posted by Silenceofthedepth, Saturday, December 29, 2007 8:16 AM | 0 comments |

A bagful of Nothingness

He was wandering. Just someone lost in the deep woods. Moving back and forth without having walked a single step. Living it not knowing what it is. And, loving it when love doesn’t exist. Speaking a dialect no one understands. He included.

Like the thin breeze that flirts with him through the window panes. Holding back before he could turn around to feel it. Gone so fast, like all other winds. That’s when the senses come till skin deep. Restoring only a passing vision to an otherwise defunct mind.

Unwrapped. Empty boxes lies all around.
What was that that these empty boxes held, and to whose tender hands it were passed on to? The past now seems like a dream. The vision of his memory has slowed down. So, he just stares. The boxes do not move. He realises then that he is not living a dream. But then what? He does not know of any other things.

A song breaks in through the walls. It’s a fresh new song. But how come he knows the lines. Did he pen this song? No, it was penned for him. Then he lost himself there. And, the quest begins again.

Who was she or who he was to her? If she has ever lived. He stares at the wall. And, wait for an answer. Its stares back at him. Alas, it doesn’t speak up.

He keeps going back to the start. The breeze, empty boxes, the song, an unresponsive wall, and her. All full of nothingness.
Posted by Silenceofthedepth, 4:33 AM | 0 comments |

Silence of the depth...born to live/die in silence

The silence of the depth. So deep and profound. Once in a while the silence gets too loud and erupts into words never spoken. Those are the un-uttered words that die down inside. They are not to be spoken. They are merely words in silence.Like unseen tears on darker nights. Or, non-recognizable faces of the shadows. These words are born to live in silence. Just to die a similar death...in silence. The only graveyard being this space whose tombstone shall hereafter read, "Silence of the Depth".











Posted by Silenceofthedepth, Friday, December 21, 2007 9:52 AM | 1 comments |