Feet agile. Long steps to the carnival tent. Step up on the magic carpet. Get away.

Strong hands. Callused palms. Shuffling a deck of cards. I can only choose one.

Brown hair. Specks of fairy dust I showered on you.

Full lips. Uttering spells and charms.

Entrapping, mystifying. Strange unknown languages, yet so familiar.

Mismatched eyes. One green, one grey.Carefully watching everyone. Carefully watching me.

But you are a trickster. I am your audience. Sometimes I feel like your show is only for me. Other times, I am just another in a crowd of people captivated by your tricks.

I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.
Because your words are lies. Illusions. For some reason I don’t mind.

With the click of your fingers, you disappear. Evanescence.

Were you even there to begin with?



I realised something today. You’ll always be the one leaving too fast, too soon. I’ll always be the one left behind. You’ll want the adventure, the rugged mountains will call you, the swift streams with crystal water will soothe your wanderlust.

But I’ll wait for you. I’ll be there in the old comfy sofa in the corner of my room. The same room in which you promised me that you’d never leave me alone. The same room you walked away from because your spirit couldn’t be bound.

I’ll be there. I’ll wait.

The color of your eyes..

I’ve never been close enough to see the color of your eyes. Even after years of staring at you, admiring you from a distance, I don’t know the color of your eyes. All I know is that its somewhere in between black and brown, obviously, like most people of our race. But its always bugged me, not knowing. I know you have a mole on your right cheek (or was it left, I might have forgotten in a year). I know your hair is pitch black, and you seem to think that spikes look really cool on it. I know you have a scar on your left arm, a little above your wrist, where you’d broken it when you fell off a bicycle. But the color of your eyes? I guess it’ll always remain a mystery to me. Just like you.

My eyes are dark brown, so dark that they almost look black from a distance. My dad has light brown eyes and I wish I’d inherited those instead of this bland color that my mom shares as well. But I guess that’s just me. Bland. Not plain ugly maybe, but not noticeable, never noticeable, in a crowd either. I merge with the walls . I’m part of the furniture. I exist, but sometimes even I forget that I do. I merely observe with these dull brown eyes of mine. They want to say a lot, but end up chickening out and saying pretty useless stuff. Like me.

His eyes are also brown, but the best shade of it. Light brown, and when the sun reflects on them, they look almost like heaven. There have been moments when I’ve just stared into his eyes while he spoke in that carefree, lively way of his. His eyes are warm, inviting- as if inspite of his rude and spoilt-brat-ish behavior, he might actually be a soft person. They make me feel safe, but I’m not fooled. The most attractive things are usually the most dangerous. But I can’t help myself. Those eyes are too hypnotic. They try to entice me with their warmth and invitation and promise of…something like home. Just like him.


The sound of breaking glass stopped her. She turned to see the pieces of the broken vase that he had knocked over in his frustration. Amidst these shard of shattered mirrors, he sat on his knees, hands in his hair, covering his face and- for the first time in years- crying. *************************************************************************************************************** Emily Peterson looked behind her again. He was still looking at her. His icy blue eyes pierced her skin every time their eyes met.He was tall, strikingly handsome in an artsy way, his brown hair fell over his forehead, almost touching his eyes. His green-jeweled lip ring matched the t-shirt that he was wearing over ripped jeans. This was her first class of Accountancy in her junior year of college, and also the first time she had ever been so distracted in a class. This guy was probably new to their college because she had never seen him before. As the lecture ended and students began shuffling towards the door, Emily got up from her seat.Just as she reached the door, a pair of blue eyes stopped her way. He held out his hand- “Hey, I’m Grey. You are…?” *************************************************************************************************************** She was in a dilemma. On one hand, her heart was being ripped apart, as old memories flashed in front of her. On the other hand, the sight of this beautiful, broken boy with tears in his eyes, was enough to bring anyone to their knees. *************************************************************************************************************** Emily and Grey chatted while sitting on the swing’s in Em’s backyard. “You know Grey, my dad had bought me this swing-set for my seventh birthday. After the accident, I almost sold it because it reminded me so much of him.” “Accident?” “5 years ago, some drunk kid had run over him. He died even before reaching the hospital.” “Did the drunk driver get arrested?” “I wish… Unfortunately he was some business tycoon’s son, who bailed him out in seconds.” Silence descended as both fell into their own chain of thoughts, the only sound being the creaking of the swings. *************************************************************************************************************** He was helpless. He’d do anything to get her back, anything to change the past, anything to remove the walls between them. As he looked at her through his tears, he realised that if she left, she’d take his soul with her. *************************************************************************************************************** “I love you, Grey.”

“How? You don’t even know me.”

” So tell me about yourself. but I can tell you one thing- nothing you say will make me love you any less.”

“Hmmm….Let me see. my mother died when I was 14. My dad re-married. Teenage angst, depression- led me to a dark side. Took me years to get out of it. I have a really dark past, Em. You don’t know any of it,”

“I don’t need to. Don’t you get it? Nothing can change my feelings. I get it if you don’t feel the sa-”

“I love you, Em.” *************************************************************************************************************** She couldn’t look at him anymore. His eyes, once so icy, were now mesmerizing like the ocean. every part of his soul seemed to be begging her to stay. His hand, cut from all the broken glass, bled- as if signifying his heart’s blood. She couldn’t look away either. *************************************************************************************************************** ” Grey, please tell me this is a lie.” “What, Em?” “This..this newspaper article…Its dated five years ago. It says.. it says that the 18-year-old son of business tycoon Robert Macefield, Grey Macefield, allegedly killed a man while drunk- driving. Grey, the… the last line of the article- it says.. it says, deepest condolences to Mrs. Peterson and her daughter…” *************************************************************************************************************** They say you should let go of the past to embrace the future. But is it possible to forgive and forget everything? *************************************************************************************************************** She started walking. His apologies, his reasons for hiding the truth, his past- flashed through her mind. The broken pieces of glass cut her feet as she walked towards him…..



Please, anyone reading this, share your feedback. 😉