Adored Passion

I turned through the pages of my old diary and suddenly an entry stood out to me. Under the dusty pages laid some of my fondest memory and this was one of them. It was a special entry and as soon I started to read it, the feeling of nostalgia inundated me. It was about my first date and suddenly I remembered everything that happened on the day. Even though the two of us had been together for a long time, this was the time when friendship became something more. We had spent so many moments together. Dancing in the rain. The sweet, aromatic drops falling on us as it purified us of our sanity and let us act like children experiencing life for the first time.


The first time, in a new way. It took me back to the time when stars twinkled above us. The poems we used to sing together were still fresh in my mind. The words still had a ring to them. They felt meaningful and I could still sing them and go back to the time when I had learnt them. A time when there were no worries about the world, about life. A world built on the building blocks of toys. It felt as if we both shared a world. A world colored by the psychedelic memories. A world reinforced by mom’s sweet lullabies. A land where fairies, giants and angels were imagined on the basis of childhood stories. Trying to find out more about life, one mistake at a time.


She is my first and only love and I will give anything for her. I am so lucky that she is with me. I had started to prepare for the date since the evening and wore the best suit I could find. Now when I look back at that day, it seems that I was so stupid. Love is just about spending so much time preparing for the moment and the feeling that the other person does not even care how you look. The restaurant was near so we decided to walk. Also I was not allowed to drive so we had no other option to walk. I still think that it was better that we walked. She was looking very eloquent. She was perfect and somehow I felt that she was too perfect for me. Her eyes, her hair and her breath-taking smile. I commented her. She didn’t. I did not mind. Even having her with me was a complement in itself. It was a windy day and suddenly a gust of wind blew her hair all over her face.



“Shoot, I forgot to tie them” she said struggling to control her hair.
“I like them this way” I said.
Her response was subtle as she just stared at the ground; embarrassed.





We reached the restaurant and got to our tables. As we entered the restaurant, the fragrance of roses greeted us. It was Valentine’s Day and the dim light in the restaurant was justified. The whole of the restaurant was only lit by candlelight and it was laced with tiny hearts hanging from the ceiling. In the background, you could hear a low voice of a violin. The sound of the violin was not overpowering the ambiance but it seemed that in the schism of being recognized, it was able to win. There was an awkward moment when we did not know what to say. Then suddenly the only thing I could say was that how was school going. She broke out into a laugh.


“It is so amazing” I said under my breath.
“What?” she asked.
“I have never heard an angel laugh”.


What was love actually I thought as I gazed upon her. I was falling deeply in love with her. For me love was trying to make sense of an obsession and failing to make that sense was falling in love. Reading these words made me smile. As I stand here today, I still have not made sense of this obsession. We were sitting across the table but it could even have had been an empty room, the setting did not matter to me. We could be sitting across a room in the corners. Trying to hide ourselves from the light. Trying to evade light altogether. Then suddenly looking at each other. As she looked at me with those beautiful eyes. I could only imagine how I would smile and would feel when she smiled back at me. Now when I look back at it, I know how I feel when she does. The curiosity was a just a child’s urge to know and now I do how it submerges me with affection when she does look at me.


I flipped the page of the diary as read I on. Every feeling every word held so much feeling and emotion inside them. These words were actually written be an 18-year-old boy still I was unable to comprehend his feelings. Unable to see how he could feel so much. Read about how she wanted to say something while we waited for our food to arrive and how she chose to remain silent. Maybe it was for the best that we kept quiet, and did nothing. It allowed me to cherish her and made me realize that nothing either of us can say or do can make this moment any better.


The rest of the time we spent just talking about random things. There was still time before she had to return so we decided to walk back to our homes and to walk together slowly. There was no chance for it to rain but I saw her eyelids suddenly tremble. It trembled as a drop of rain touched it. A light drizzle started and she started to feel cold. I walked over to her and wrapped my arm around her. Her expression turned to a relaxed one as if a child had found the comforting love of a mother. I saw how her eyes allowed me to know so many secrets about her. They were able to tell me everything I wanted to know about her. How they told me how she felt about me. Green and priceless like precious emeralds. I would treasure them forever.
Shining towards me every time I looked at them as if appreciating my gesture. I still remember how they modestly shied away from me as if embarrassed for being so idyllic. I realized that losing to her; I had forgotten how to win. How I had lost to her so many times but I thought that even though I lose, I don’t want to win over this feeling. Looking back at that day, I cannot help to feel that I want to go back there. Go back to the time when I was innocent and untouched by time and reality. What I would give to see her smile her for the first time. Relish the fact that she was mine and only mine. My love.

Creative Writing I

I could feel the freshness of the grass under my feet. It reflected upon the sunrise taking place in the distant. The scene was eloquent. The light warmth of the sun fell on my face as I ran towards my house. The light on the horizon fought for its presence to be felt as sunlight started to expand over the dark fields. The sky was pink and even though I was wrapped under the clothes, I could feel a shiver down my spine as cold wind overwhelmed me. It felt as if the night was surrendering its innocence to the day and the feeling that the dreadful day will take over disappointed me.

Since I was born, I had lived under the shadow of the mighty mountain. The most dominating feature of the place. Its superiority was underlined by the fact that it was situated in the middle of low plains. The ice-capped peaks formed a beautiful scene and attracted so many visitors. It was ironic that even though so many people had conquered the mountain, still they could not conquer the feeling they felt when they first lay their eyes upon it. My mother told me that many fairies lived on the top of the mountain. Just yesterday she told me about a fairy which brings down gifts for little children. I told myself that I would never climb the mountain. I knew that the day I did, I would lose the innocence and the mind of a child. As I reached my home, I saw realized the reason I would never want to lose my innocence. I saw my mother.