Micro Fiction

              

1. Letters:
                  There was a night when i wrote letters to you, it felt like soft hammering, as if  with every word a hammer was  striking .I coudnt complete even a  single letter. But In morning i found a heap of uncompleted letters.

2. Body:
               Those days when you were exploring my body and i was stupidly dreaming you to love me divinely.
I lied, those days never had came.

3.Vanish:
               Some characters from my life have suddenly vanished in thin air, silently as they came they leaved . Now i search them in my old writings.

4.Praise:
               One day someone praised of my writings, i felt proud and  tried to write more  better. Since then i coudnt write anything good.

5.Darkness:
                    I sit in the dark, and it is hard to figure out which is worse, the darkness inside or the darkness outside .

6.Washed letter:
             While i was writing a love letter in chalk on your house wall,  you  came with your lover. Suddenly rain washed all writing .

7.Permanent:
                     I f anything was permanent  ever that was the admiration i did years ago, without knowing you.
Thus i don't wanna know you.
             
8.Remember:
          She: do you ever remember me.
          ME: I only remember you in the days sadness and night of insomnia.
But coudnt tell her every night of mine is insomniac and every day is sad.

9.Answer :
                After struggling for 12 years i finally gather courage and tell her, I have crush on you.
when i look for any answer  , she said i knew it from first day and have answer from that day. "You and I are cannot live together, not because of you , not because of me, but we are just beyond time."

10.Voice Echoed:
                             I was sitting in the park and reading a fiction novel, slowly failing in love with the characters . suddenly they appear across me, i tried to touch them but they disapear .A voice echoed then "we come like this only, and disapear  "
Next day, when i was at her home, and stretch my hand for handshake , same voice echoed. since then i never touched her.

11.Outfits:
                 She said: Good outfits, looking handsome.
                 I smiled and said i look pretty wearing cloth of sorrows.

12.Vicious circle:
                           It was all over, but one day someone met,  our gaze fixed to each other, she was smiling and i was afrading. She read that in my eyes and ask why you scaring.
I coudnt tell her that , again vicious circle of dreaming, insomniac night and writing have  starts.

13.Rain:
                 She exclaimed cheerily- Wow...! its raining.
I looked into my teared eyes rather then outside and said exhaustively- Yeah, raining here also.

14.Lie:
            One day she was reading poems from my diary, she asked for whom you write all these.
I looked in her eyes for a moment and said "No one"
and lied that every writing of mine belongs  to you only.

15.Curse:
               When we last meet, she cursed me that i would forget every memory of her.
I was smiling on my intelligence that  i have already written a lot about her in my diary , by reading them i would reconstruct those memories.
At night when i picked up my diary, it was empty.

PS: few are inspired.

Day of leaving writing.

         Reason of not writing is not always lack of inspiration, but fear also. Fear of completeness . For those who haven't words but always have relentlessness to write, inspiration matters but not that much , for them it doesn't matter how bad their grammar or how rubbish there piece of  writing is but  it is essential as its always therapeutic .
For them writing is not just merely pen down some thoughts  , but  like a meditation and why not  as they forget everything (sometimes even themselves) while writing , or it  may be healing a object , even in their rubbish  writing you may found some jewels or may be not.

         writing is  necessary as like breathing but what when  some people deprived them from it, what when the only thing they can do for themselves  is hurting others. How could they so mean , when there writing is hurting to others why they still writing , ... no they wont, they would leave that.
Day will come , they will lost inspiration , some people too, though life is about moving on, (as Churchill said, "If you going through hell, keep going " or ) but they wont , they found themselves sticked upon some people's memories only, (as those people long moved leaving them).  Loosing people  is not a new thing,  but loosing own part  would leave a silence not torments like earlier, silence of solitude .
           Perhaps a day come, they would leave there work; writing , not because of people or lack of inspiration but because they cant do that anymore, they would choose to not to write ever, they will slowly loosing themselves too , they would start a process of  killing  themselves daily, a part of them would die daily . The soul  who urges them to write would stop responding then ,or they just wont listen ,  that would be finished. They won't lost everything but would lost that part which was there own thoughts of reflection , but that day will come, if not now then someday.
 

Their soul will mourn that day so loudly even universe would scares from that cry , their  regretful eyes would wound more painful then ever , that fade smile  turn into sarcasm, own shadow would give condolence to  lost writing , epitaph would be without any words and may be for some moments poetry would be unemployed  ,doom's day for a soul that day.

       Tears wont roll down cheek that day , heart wont beat slower but for a person his inner life would finish since then. What they would do after that day, how they would survive , would they celebrate this solitude or live in comatose but surely they wont remain same person.
        Nobody is eternal in this fragile world, not words , thoughts , everything just live their destiny and passes away , just leaving  marks of them and memories.

"All our lives are merely one painful, laborious search
for our own graves"