Musings Of A Disoriented Critter

Waiting to relive waiting to revive the long lost memories, the long lost fantasies A forgotten childhood in the face of fantasy; The owrld that made me forget the world that wants me perfect! I'll wait, and I can For it's the beauty I lived thorugh, is the beauty I'll relive. Waiting is good!! Dedicated to JK Rowling, my Queen, for creating a series so good that inspired a generation- my generation! Thank you for Fantastic Beasts, as I quote one of my favourite likes in Harry Potter, "I've done my waiting... twelve years of it!! IN AZKABAN!!!" I wouldn't mind waiting! 

Chasing the time that past, trying, failing, reliving old times; The eyes that were full of life, now so busy in the life he made. A moment to smile a moment to write, is what all I want; I what all I had.

Adrian knew what was ahead of him. An eleven hour long journey back to the city of his dreams, and he's excited already! Well, is he? It's an answer even he finds himself unable to answer. Part of him says it'll be yet another of those long journeys that will bore the hell out of him, but a part of him says he's wrong. Little did he know that this long ride would end up as a whole new adventure. Well, it'll be an adventure if he sees so, or it'll end up being his worst nightmare. I tell you, it's how he takes. As he was contemplating of how he'd spend the rest of his time he has, he noticed two figures brush past him. He jumped in a jolt wondering what it were. Oh well, they're just a couple of his copassengers. But something was strangely strange about their demeanour. He couldn't help but stare at their well-toned bodies and bulging muscles and those pictorials that can make the straightest of men swoon like puppies. Luckily, t...

A scarlet freckle, a blood splash misplaced, I see her glistening in the sun looking yonder, the wind ruffling her scarlet tips, a misplaced being, mismatched soul, what brings you here, what is it that caught your gaze? I see her bleed. Blood gushing out, a scarlet freckle on the face of the bright green earth.. Why? I see her transform, blood running dry, the warmth leaving her veins. I see her fly. Scarlet wings, dried of all life, in a whisper does she sing her song as she makes her flight. A girl in the red dress, in the middle of nowhere, transforming, bleeding. Oh how truly beautiful! She takes her flight, away she flies,  bleeding, crying, singing, away she flies, to the worlds ever forgotten. The girl in red dress. A mystery on the face of the earth. Praveen

When your heart falters to the memory of the night that past, The time spent in the company of the one who stole your heart, Not one night passed without the memory of your smile, Not one moment passed that longed your presence, And when we are together my heart cries out to yours. Past friendship, we share this bond That ever brings us together... Call it love? I don't know. At this point am not even sure. With failed lives we are unsure of each other, And I think it's okay. It atleast gives us a chance to start our lives over. But that's future. And for now, the memory of you keeps me sane, alive!! And I value every moment spent with you, Cause you are one of the best things  that ever happened to a heart as dire as mine. And I wouldn't even mind if my feelings for you are reciprocated, Cause your mere presence lights up my heart, And for now, that is sufficient for me.

Cranky times and cranky lives, Screw the monotony refusing change Murdurous cunts!!!

I spent a minute today, gazing at the infinite flies dancing to the radiance of a street light. I spent a minute today, watching little innocence scuttle up to their parents' arms. I spent a minute today, to take a road seldom taken, in hope to listen to my footsteps that resonate uncertainty. I spent a minute today, to look at the stars that shone above trying to outshine the Moon. I spent a minute today, watching the lowly stars speed past me to places unknown. I spent a minute today, looking at life anew brush past in a hasty chance. I spent a minute today, gazing into the eyes of darkness, as a quiet smile adorned my lips. And, I say, it's a minute well spent!

The darkness beckons to visit her eerie abode, Across the great stars that adorn the earth, through the great stretches of nothingness and pain: Dotted plains and marshlands to the towering hills that challenge existence; The darkness beckons form her humble abode, Her ghastly hand calls yonder Through uncertainty and doubt, through the boundaries of trust and death There she calls.

     Oh! How people love wallowing in their own mediocrity, ever refusing to think, ever refusing to learn.      Enclosed in their shell of comfort, they refuse to see the world beyond it, constantly indulging in small talk that hardly last the time they take to come.      Refusing to ever step out of their shells that stink of monotony and routine, they've tried creating communities; boundaries to make them feel comfy, as they marinate in the idea of entertaining themselves, hoping their surroundings too to stink of the same stink they've accustomed to, and wait! It's a wonder, cause people start to come out of their shell, and boy! They're delighted. Cause, ah! The stink of such mediocrity reeking from their bodies transform their surroundings, just how the way they wanted it to be!! And even a slight bit of reason, properly and systematically cloaked by the shit they choose to wallow in!!      What more can y...

The stars were sparkling down that cold winter night. Tears roll down the deep blue eyes as she tried to remember the musings of that evening. She couldn't control herself. Chilly night air brush past her barren feet as she sat there in the cold, facing the dark world below her, probably fast asleep. Her phone chimed for the twelfth time that night, all read "Sorry".. But she was in no state to accept the apology. She couldn't take it anymore. Screeching pain emanated from her insides each time her phone chimed in. Each text ever so painful as a malignant ulcer oozing venom churning her insides. She can't bear it! She flung out her mobile, and typed out these words she never imagined would, "We're over now, Alan", each letter slowly eating away a part of her, that by the end of it, she was left this body, devoid of all life, her heart slowly freezing to the ghastly memories and nightmares that have been haunting her. The shadows round her close...

The soft rumbling of the sea is all Adrian could hear. The numbing hours he spent sitting by the sea, looking at the ever rolling waves racing to reach the shore, contemplating of the lives of her visitors, were ever so fresh each time he visited her. It was always comforting to his deranged mind. On the verge of quitting, it was what gave him solace. His lips twist into a smile, as the wind brushes past his hair. His hand is met with a familiar touch. His eyes are met with these soothing pair of eyes; how they glisten in the warmth of the setting sun! They look perfect, each eyelash delicately designed, making them deep brown eyes even more beautiful. Aren't you perfect! She smiles, as her eyes tried to hide the blushing, while she tucked behind her ears the locks of hair that were so beautifully dancing to the soft breeze. Her lips were adorned by a delicate shade of pink. He reaches out to hold her, but she slips off of his grasp, running, giggling as the sun sets behi...

I don't remember crying. Well, at least not for someone I never ever have met (or have met). I was just typing out a piece of fiction for you guys a while back. I almost published it, when my Chrome popped up with a notification from a friend. It read, " Alan Rickman, Harry Potter and Die Hard actor, dies 69. " Tears welled up in my eyes, and I didn't know what to do. He was my childhood. There couldn't be a better Professor Snape for all Hogarts. Each year I waited out for each of them movies to stream on our TV, just to mindlessly hate the character, but end up crying when he was there writhing in the corner,  giving that last piece of memory, as he passed on. He was a villain of sorts. And as Judge Turpin in "Sweeney Todd", he caught my attention as a splendid actor. He even sang so well. As an ever trying husband in "Love Actually", he put a smile on my face. Who could have been a better Absolom with that eerie voice of his.. The...

"I don't even know what I'm doing at this place. With the priorities and plans reiterated, I don't see what keeps me here." "You could always fly" "I know that, but I can't understand what stops me." Perched on the rooftop, looking over at the dark jungle past his dorm, Adrian's eyes were transfixed at the far away sea. He often longed her comfort, and this chilly night wasn't an exception. "You remember those nights we used to run down to the beach just to hear the soft rumbling of the sea?" Silence followed. Red wasn't sure of what to respond to his friend's musings. He has known Adrian for about 3 years now. They are the best of friends for speaking out loud, but as time flew, both knew they were slowly drifting apart. Each day they had less to talk about. They started to avoid each other just to avoid the eerie awkwardness that often prevailed among them. "When was it that wee realized that ...

When do we realize as to label a day to celebrate, to start off hoping a change, yet realize that nothing would be  magically "new"? The same old times. the same old life, same old moments of solitude and peace, same old worries and episodes of anxiety. So, should that make a "new year" totally insignificant, and redundant? Is it that we just need a reason as to hide behind the comfort the promise of something "new" presumptively holds? Or do we just need a reason to take a day off, and retrospect, watch one's world out of it, and set things in order that have derailed before you could think about it?. Or is it just yet another day to not think about living and enjoy the moment? I don't know what I saw last night, but it was really beautiful. Starting off the night trying to finish edits to the short movie my friends have been working on, keeping up with time as to run to the beach just in time to catch the clock strike twelve, to witn...