The Deranged Thoughts Of A Girl

I wake up from what seems like a long sleep. My body is too tired to move. Before I open my eyes, I stretch my hands to reach out to my bedside stand so as to grab my spectacles. It had become a habit almost, not allowing myself to see with my weak vision. It had worsened throughout the years. I can feel how weak I have become. My hands brush past the stand, wait it was a table, unfamiliar texture. I knock down something, which wakes up someone sitting on a chair beside my bed. I open my eyes, I can barely make out my mom from the mirage of her familiarity. She tells me everything is okay which clearly implies that it is not. I ask for my spectacles. She hands them over to me. The first thing I notice is her face. Dried tears. I caress my weak hands over her soft skin. "Why are you crying?" She burst into sobs of tears and fears. She runs out, leaving me alone. Is it right to leave a dying person alone? Dying. It doesn't matter anymore. I  still remember how I sc

I can sense my desire to reach out to you. To delicately wrap my fingers around that one single thread, Keeping my reflexes in control to not make a mistake, One strong pull and I would have you broken, In my arms for a while, I would feel you, Never really knowing how to fix you. So I take my time, and with each touch I murmur my desire to my lips, Reminding myself of why I had to have you. But is that what it takes? Oh is that what it takes. And then it broke, the thin thread stroking my fingers, Lifeless and calm, neither the strong wind nor I could resurrect you, You didn't budge even a little, so I left you there, My heart too weak to try and my hands bleeding, Not a tear fell, not a single heartbeat, not even a tinge of regret, But a thought whizzed by, and echoed indifference. And I knew, This is not what it takes.

After years of struggling, we finally convinced Papa. We were taking driving classes. It was super fun when we had them together. After an exhausting 10 minutes of driving each, we three would come home giggling. The teacher would drop us off at the bakery. Despite the plans we made yesterday night after the heavy dinner, we would drift into bakery with such big smiles. One lime soda, two neiyappam and one undampori . Within seconds, we were devouring it like hungry kids. Someone you were nice to the other day would come to talk to us and you would tuck away the remaining neiyappam back into the plastic bag, struggling to swallow the piece you had in your mouth . Oh god, how much I love her. It's these small moments,you know. You see them doing something as simple as brushing their hair or picking up a flower that you realise you love them. Eventually, we would reach home, sweating, thirsty and utterly tired. We would lie down on the bed. We would compliment Ryan on his