- - :: Orion's Ode - ShraMan One Shot Index :: - -

II Alaahida - Apart II

Folks! 

Hello hello! 

So, as most of you know, Alaahida has been posted earlier on Wattpad, but I'm removing the earlier one cause I figured it would be easier to have it all in one location. Originally written as an entry for Likhavat 1.0, no gloating yet again, but this piece had won, hearts and accolades alike ;) 

So, this piece, its really close to my heart. I wanted to try my hand at something different for a change and I'm glad it has been liked. There are absolutely no dialogues and its in third person view. The poetry is in two versions, Hindi and English. The English poetry has also been used in Alation :D

Anyway, enough of my verbal diarrhoea. Here's presenting, Alaahida. 

II ALAAHIDA - APART II 

Wounded in spirit, imbibed in darkness, chafed by hopelessness suffered a prisoner of love. The very love that once gave him life now scared him. Years passed, but respite never was found. Solitude had been his longest standing friend, but it was also his most torturous enemy. Solitude had soft, silky hands, he knew. It takes you in its warm embrace when the world seems cold. But it has strong fingers. With those it grasps the heart and makes it ache. The hurt is dull at first. When you start getting used to it, the grip is tightened and you are unable to breathe.

Shravan sat leaning against the massive window of his room which was devoid of even a shard of brightness. The lightening made chilling patterns as it reflected from the crevices of the furniture. His gaze shifted to the grass that carpeted the earth. It fought the elements with vigor. And all Shravan could think, was of the war that he often raged with his own self. His spirit flickered commemorating the love that once was. It brought with it a gamut of bitter memories that wove around his soul a net of despondency.

Today, years after she first broke his heart, the seed of silent sorrow that made its place in his being had grown manifold. Today, as she chose another, nothing remained with him of the beautiful dream except a hollow pit of hurtful reminiscence flapping its invisible wings around him, lurching the depths of his heart in sorrow, and making him weep. The home that gave him peace as a child was now where his love lay buried. The rumbling thunder drew his attention to the swaying trees. The branches as though joining in sorrowful mourning and lamenting the death of his love. He felt like a prisoner, one who can imagine being free but can never taste the freedom.

A loving person, he now believed, was the most cursed. Two paths tore him. One that allowed him to dream and the other that tied him down with chains never letting him soar. Now, as he nursed his tattered self all that his being shouted was, "Why..?" Why did she show him the light if all she wanted to do was push him into the oblivion? "Why Sumo?" he whispered as his eyes shone with unshed tears.

Aas thi, Umeedon ka daur tha,