THE PHEONIX LIBRARY

 

 

                     Darkness was all I could see. “I must have gone blind” I thought. But, that was not it. My every attempt to speak was in vain. My mouth seemed to be glued. I tried my best to get up, turning from side to side wrestling with my own self. That too was in vain. S omeone must have played a prank on me. I was swimming in my thoughts, when I noticed it. It was utter bit silent. Was I dead? Slowly I got to the fact that I was super dead.            Hours passed. I was still not out of the fact that, I was dead. I was perfectly fine. You fall asleep, and the next hour you are dead! Is this some kind of joke. “I am not dead, I cannot be”, and then I started weeping. Emotions raced all the way to my heart and flowed through my eyes. A  lot more hours passed when I was, over all the ‘I am dead ’ emotions. I had to wait, wait till someone get in my room, and find me lying dead. I knew that...

                                                         I was saundering through the woods, pressing my feets firmly on the ground as if I would fall off from it any second. My eyes felt misty. Was I weeping? No, no way. I had a whole dreary winter laying before me. Crying was the last thing I want to do.               "Mother, it’s a great pleasure you are here". I looked up to the origin of the voice. A small nest was resting on a willow tree. The tree had shed most of its leaves. My eyes caught a glimpse of a little bird hiding behind its mother. "Keep them safe" I whispered to the tree. It shook gently.                 I wanted to get out of this wood. I turned back.  There was a man inches away from me. His brownish blond hair set perfectly,...

                                                                     CHILDHOOD Through the whiff of green grass And piled up toys Happened the halcyon days Of one’s life Similar to a bird Learning to flutter Taking their first pace Gambling with happiness When spotting a bud bloomed Into a beautiful flower Was the happiest moment When monsters were hidden Under the beds Little did we know They were breathing right inside us If given the chance To walk back to something purloined by time I would gaily walk back To what we call childhood The halcyon days of one’s life                                     ...