Supreeth Madduri

Ashes burnt smelled exactly like  the inhalation of first breath. May be that's what life is. It wasn't suffocating, at least for once; liberation, as they say, is the highest form of purity. For all I realize, death feels nothing like pathos. Liberation from chaos, you see? All the happiness and sorrow in the  world came down to dark particles of  burnt bones and bruised flesh. Nothing more. For all I realize, the war is within and so shall you conquer the roots. Liberation floats with the wings of purity And stings with the blood of hatred. For all I realize, love is the highest form of nothingness,  and so shall you love yourself first.

I find you in between the thin gaps of uncoloured spaces in a painting that is enthralled with the heart and soul of an artist; for thou art the voids that can't be filled. I find you in between the spaces of semicolons hoping to join the further clause, from a writer's diary revealing the emotions similar to that of mine; for thou art the pause for a beautiful sentence. I find you in between the subtle movements of a dancer's legs that are struggling for perfection, and those subtleties excite me like you do; for thou art my dancing distortion. Voids. Pauses. Distortions.  What is art, if not these and if not for these? An art full of uniqueness and an art full of resemblance.

a. There must be a place that feels exactly like home, but not home. There must be a phrase that  Sums up all the feel-good emotions that I so want to banter about. There must also be the warmth that I always needed. b. Every step I put requires the strength  Of wanting. I wander. I get lost. I wander. I find. c. Every play has 3 parts to it. The beginning. Feels terrible. The interval. Realization and the urge to get closer. The end. Finding the familiarity. The more I get lost, the more I find a part within me that I barely knew existed.

I sit there, on my bed hoping for some rest.  But unfortunately,  I get loneliness in return.  The thing about feeling lonely at times is,  you get to admire the things that goes unnoticed, with utmost respect; like the corner bin waiting for someone to fill its soul, like the dust succumbed to be blown in between the keys of my computer keyboard, like the piled clothes on a bean bag and anything that's been stuffed,  serving a purpose. How I wish to stuff my feelings within me,  but sadly, it doesn't work that way.  You can't stuff random things when you're feeling lonely.  It just have to be served  with another feeling by another heart, only.

I  belong to the men of forgotten race. the men who toiled for a bread of sweat and sun In places less foot kept descending, a dawn at a time  travelled to attend the unattended whispers  of mourn and disbelief. I belong to the men of hard hearts. who'd leave at the alter with the name called with the one etched within. not with the eyes which caught in the air of kisses and pecks.                                                 I belong to the men  of love and sensuality. not that we speak of. but of actions, of hopes and of beliefs.

I dream about going to Prague. There's something strange about the streets in there, that attracts me. Light, windows, pavements and even the sky; not blue, I believe.  Skies are colored.        Summer feels like a dream. Getting tanned has become a practise. Soothing. Winter is gorgeous.  Getting sick under the dark cloud has become a season, inside. Stories chooses its tellers, it seems. Like me, like you, like the streets of Prague.  But, We only choose what we want to choose. By the end, it's a full circle. A paradox. The summers, the winters, the colourfulness and everything, is just a dream.  Like you and me together.

A 4 year old kid made a wish to  Own the ice cream vehicle. When asked for more, we'd probably ask more of everything. He also stood his words for more . But, wished for yet another ice cream  Vehicle. Nothing else. God once pledged with the idea of creating the humans. The pledge contained a purpose. Mainly, love . Humans were incepted with more of everything.                                                The kid grew up to see that, the wishes are just a misconception. Not that he couldn't buy an icecream vehicle for himself, just that it wasn't necessary. Sometimes, humans die in                                   scarce of love. Not that they couldn't love, just that they did not get enough of what they should've got.