The Silence of My Voice

Hola compañeros! So I was just sitting and spinning up this story in my mind, which suddenly struck out of nowhere while I was idly enjoying the cool breeze as I was ridden of the horrid tension of Board Examinations.I haven't thought of what might happen ahead in the story. I'm just writing it out whatever had come into my mind at that point of time. Looking out in the obscurity of the night, she slowly walked like a cat clutching the opaque encumbrance of her latest consignment. She sluggishly bordered her black tinted Porsche Carrera GT. She gently laid the cadaver inside the car, taking care to not allow even a drop of blood to ruin the expensive black coverings. Her wagon was the sole thing she was covetous of. She piloted her car all the way to the headquarters, as usual, to abdicate the body over to the forensic department. She led her sleek, tall frame towards the Chief's cabin, as she always did to let him grasp the knowledge of her existence. "S...

Hola compañeros! So apparently it's my math Board tomorrow, after which I'd probably be like a free bird willing to fly up, up and away. I already am getting confused as to what should I be doing with the free time. Well, not free days as such. My entrance classes would be starting from 27th. What a shame! :-/ So all I really have by myself is the weekend. I mean seriously man! Four months you isolate yourself from the world in that tiny 24*7 lit corner of your room, glue your ass and slog it for what? Just one free weekend? Blah! Some of my friends have already ridden themselves of the terror of not having a teeny-weeny vacation. I'd be tormented yet again come next week. I sometimes really envy these commerce chaps. Idjits, this CBSE is. But tomorrow, at 1:30pm, as the bell would ring and the scripts would be lifted up, I would breathe again and the exams can go to hell for all I care. Well you might want to listen to these amazing amazing tracks by UB40. "Ca...

Hola compañeros! It's at times never enough of what you apparently get out of the ecstasy that stems out of the little, negligible contraption everyday. It seems to somehow assassinate your momentary angst and disquiet for everything. Angst, a very deeply shallow word it is. As much tranquil it is to not be pestered about it, the more it perturbs you. Funny fellow it is. It was only the other day when I was out there, in the balcony striving to puff some pollution-oriented oxygen, assuming that it would perhaps clean my system a bit, and supply some good amount of air to my benumbed brain cells after I thrived on persecuting them after the hideous chapter of Probability. Pleasant the air was. At that very moment, I was slapped hard with a tiny-winy pang of angst that I felt. Or was it anguish. Or torment. Or the fatigue and enervation of the constant torture on me by my books, after they gobbled up a fragment of my nice, pink brain which had virtually been converted into a ri...

Hola compañeros! So have I apparently thought that after everyone wrote a letter to themselves, I'd better do it!  Dear you, or us? Alright fine! I know it's a really really BAD phase going on. I can absolutely fathom what you're clearly going through. I know I should have doubtlessly written this little piece to you long back. Maybe then, you might have known and would have been able to take control of the situations. You won't be a tomboy anymore. You'll loosen up on death metal and you'll also start listening to Karl Wolf and Diana Krall.  But don't worry. You'll have a lot of situations.  They'll only make you strong and wise. But! Before anything,  You'd like to trust Monika a bit more than you already do. I know, I know, she'd hurt you. All of them did. But keep her close. She's here to stay. She'll be the first one who'll repudiate to relinquish you.  You better learn talking to Mum, kid. You'll realize i...

Hola compañeros! So companeros, this is the seventh installment of  Ruhani 's first story of  Spin-A-Yarn .  The first part is by Ruhani  here . Second part  here . Third part  here . Fourth  here . Fifth  here . And sixth  here . Source: Ashzzes Blog   Ah! I can see him open his old eyes! I see him interlocking them with her yet forever young eyes. It was all so unencumbered. Every spectator that could possibly have subsisted to recite the saga of our ardor. I could see now that the reason it had hurt him so much was because our souls were connected. The journal had been the sole nexus between us.  My soul, fortunately, had an interpreter - often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter. His journal was the main ingredient filling up the massive void that we had sandwiched. Every leaf, every volume of his journal that I read each night, had a soul. His soul, who wrote it and my soul which read it, li...

Hola compañeros! I can't really even figure out whether I'm in my 'hola' mood or not! I perpetually can't come to terms to believing people. I've come across, like ample souls who've loathed. And trust me companeros, the feeling has been mutual. WHY can't they come to terms with their life the way it's supposed to be?!??!! Can you even conjure up the fact there're even categories to delineate these moronic, badass creatures!  1. The Devdas. Oh you'll never be lacking these idiots. "Pyaar se bechare, duniya ke maare". I mean I can really understand and extend my hand to those who've really gone through a ominous phase. But girlfriend chali gayi? Dost ne maara? Abe to Kyaaa! Waapas maar dost ko. Police thodi hai jo gun chala denge! =P They're perpetually upset about everything they can possibly define as a rationale. They can even be upset about the samosa in your school canteen having an extra drop of oil. I mean, co...

Hola compañeros! So apparently I've gotten much time to elaborate this exercise which my friend and fellow blogger started to called  Spin-A-Yarn  (you can read here what  Ruhani  calls the B-4 Theory). So companeros! This is the sequel to Ruhani's first post - The Journal . They talked of his enigmatic lineage. But most importantly, they talked of her.  Source: Ruhani's Blog He would be apprehensive to open them, lest the vanilla, fruity almond like spoor abscond the folios. He feared it. Yes, he did. It was only the fragrance and archaic, unbecoming leather binding which had incarcerated golden letters which grew pristine when once she'd fondled them with the extremities of her long, articulate hands. Her ubiquitous aura for generations teased his memories of her, which he with all his might had tried preserving. No soul was allowed around the volume oh his leaves. He hadn't wanted anybody to have savored to the fruity aura he'd resuscitated fo...

Hola compañeros! A very Happy wala Holi to you! And a Strong, powerful and Happy Women's Day. The world defines Women as a female human. Someone who's born to obey, to cook food, raise your kids and keep you content. Is that all? That's how you treat your sister, best friend or girlfriend. Because newsflash sweetheart! Your Dad did the same thing to your Mom. Feeling foiled? Obviously! Go, run around, yell for their rights. But stop, don't! Because you'll end up being the same man your ancestors were. Yes, you're the best, unsurpassed, paramount, preeminent, superlative. We can say more in a sigh, than a man can say in a sermon. Your whole life is a history of affection. No matter what you look like, you're sexy if you're confident! Your most beautiful make-up is passion; cosmetics are cheaper to buy. You're to be loved, not understood.  You're fabricated into an innocent daughter, a caring sister, a warm friend, a passionate bel...

Hola compañeros! And so physics was pathetic, next is chemistry, it's easy, and instead of studying that, I'm merrily giving away my time to me dear blog. And so as I promised my fellow blogger  Diwita  to take a blog-post she initiated ahead. And so this is the sequel to the previous post  here  and the first two parts  here  and  here  on Diwita's blog. And the curtains were raised, an enormous inundation of corsage along the red carpet as Westland High welcomed their senior class for their outgoing ceremony. The sun couldn't have shone brighter in that January morning. There was something euphoric about that morning. Rehan's eyes peered through every feminine visage as he rummaged for Sahana. He would get rid of the uneasiness today itself; he was determined. A placid zephyr swept through his perfectly congealed hair like he was swayed to heaven, like Sahana caught him from behind. Rehan turned around. Dumbstruck. Dumbfound. Dumbass. He felt...