Stained Love (Part 1)

Writer’s note: This story is an entirely fictional piece. Created from my vivid viewings and scattered memories of numerous brave and strong women who have pulled their life together even after it was completely shattered. I admire the courage and the fortitude of people- especially these women, who have fought through their darkest times and have been able to come out of their trauma and pain. As a storyteller, I try to record their bitter times, hoping to portray how one’s will and resilience paves the path of better times and better days. This story has been written in parts and everyday, a new part will be posted on my blog. This is a new endeavor and part of the collection of ‘Housewife Tales’. I request all viewers to leave their feedback and comments which will give me an insight to what the audience thinks and believes. Happy viewing. 

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Somber Vapours

(Many a times there are lives which don’t seem to  be parallel with our lives. But, these lives do exist. So here is the forgotten tale of the old man whose name was never known, but whose mind was loud and beautiful and I wish I would’ve heard that music.)

A scornful smile filled his lips as he walked.

The old man at the Church was what he was called.

He swept and he mopped and purged the traitors to God.

He swam and dunked and walked for miles in light, for the light.

A cold summer evening, he put on his husky hat,

Smiled a smile of gloom and galloped,

With a lantern in one hand and a casket in another.

His beloved rested in an old, willow hut,

Where the olive brew cooked.

He scorned at the sun, and laughed at the orangish aura of the autumn leaves.

He whimpered in pain, and stared forlorn,

The old armoire was bleeding rust,

Cracking up in moths and dust,

Scooping his dreams with a hollowed broomstick and lazy moonlight,

He laughed at the greyhound room’s hallucinations and flames,

Whimpering in the sawdust and scrapples,

Numb with the mischief of his tattered, unhinged, unabashed mind.

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Brazen Lights

I read this now, with a painstaking smile wrapped around my lips.

I claimed to love one, when I was bound to the other.

I ran away from this love and I’ve watched it flame up in the vengeance of my ego.

I understood that we wouldn’t and this wouldn’t work and I wondered how important I was to him.

I dance to the keys of my ivories as I transpired the writer’s vibe.

Maybe, I will find love in a lonesome forgotten bar of Russia, and he will be there.

Counting his last breath as I walk in,

Breathing air into him, his heart will pump and we will start living.

The vodka flirted with your throat and I knew that a lost elixir was haunting you down,

It was never the orthodox life for me, but I wonder for how long I can lie.

So then, I stopped living the lie and tried to live the truth.

But it was hard.

And I was scared.

So I wondered.

Wondered in the brazen lights of your love and I wanted to scream but I was in trance.

The weed smothered on my lips, and trust me, I thought I wouldn’t survive.

But you told me, that I will.

So I tried and you said “I’ll be fine”.

So today, when I leave you in this Maya, stay blessed, for I promise to return.

In flesh and wounds.

In soiled color.

And, with a caressed soul.

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