JustAnu

 Pearls of memories in the String of Life As I envision my childhood, I am taken away with the sense of nostalgia about all the little things we used to do then, which eventually got left behind to crawl the path of Adulthood. We forgot laughing our hearts out, giggling at the slightest of unprofessional thoughts, crying at the times we felt hurt the most. Instead, in an attempt to reflect maturity, we kept our real emptions far at the bay, living in a nutshell and celebrating fake ascend to corporate mountain. As a child, I have learnt to let my fingers dance at the keys of piano and find their own rhythm, without the need of my eyes needing to keep an eye on them. As a child, I have learnt to face a football match held at interschool level for the 3rd time even after losing twice. The first time we lost, it was awful, given that I was the goal-keeper and a member of my team got confused in the middle of the game about the direction to kick the ball and it took me time to realise ...

 I found myself more calm and composed and my grip on the handle of the scooty felts tighter, as if my palm was promising never to leave the grip, what-so-ever happen. It was the first time I was driving for not-so-urgent reason and with no fixed destination in my mind. Yet I and my friend, whose  eyes were focused on the Google maps on the phone screen, were set off to explore the unecplred part of the city and if fortune favors,  a better part of our unexplored selves.  "You need to take the next left and trade the way that takes runs up the flyover " she spoke and  by judging the intensity of her voice and tone, it wasn't difficult to make out that her eyes were glued to the map. I nodded in acknowledgement and followed her orders. I complied and soon we were ascending up the flyover Bridge with a moderate pace.  The sun started for its target to faint, leaving behind a grayish blue sky with traces of light clouds floating above. We reached the top of th...

 It's dark all around and I keep ok walking. I know how to do it, or rather , I have learnt thus skill over time. .I hated to be alone not because I can't walk with no one beside me, but instead, I loved the company of people who resonate with who I am. I believe that if we change the people around us, for the time being  it could change the way we feel and think ( okay, it might be wrong,  but till things are positive, all is well). As time passes by, majority of us realise that it's RARE to find people who resonate effortlessly with us. Okay , no regrets  !.. I have began to love solitude and lose my self in its peace and nothingness. Why do we Always have to be a part of Something !.  I walk on, embracing every imperfection and insecurity and yet, I feel super proud of everything I am and everything I am not. I desire to live a life with human genuineness and I loath the idea of giving up under materialistic greed. At times, the calm and cool breeze of the ni...

 Written by Haruki Murakami,  the Strange Library is a Short and a Sweet read with a pinch of horror- thriller thoughts with a person of absurd goal !   The other world  the captivating feature of Murakami books also have a mention in this story.  Want another reason to pick up this one ? It had for some beautiful illustrations too. The book unravels the story of a young boy , who upon his visit to the library gets stuck for somebody else's plan , like a  worm🪱 for a fish.  The escape is a hard one to accomplish. There is another man, The Sheep Man, as the boy calls him who is stuck with the fear to consequences upon his escape and hence abides by the words of The Old Man, the master mind of whole scrutiny. The only thing which I want to mention is that, the girl in the story could have been describes as something more than a Pretty Girl. Otherwise, the story was a fun and engaging read.the end was unexpected and that's what Thrills ! .. Thank yo...

 continued from  Part I “What place is it. Why do you want me to leave? And, sweetie, why are you sad?” He dabbed his eyes in mine, his look strong enough to startle me and his expressions very mature for his age.   “There is a war going on and we all are going to die.” War? Seriously. I can’t see anyone fighting. There is no bombarding. No loud cries and howls or struggle against anything. Things look peaceful.   “We all have been given a drug which we didn’t realise while we ingested it. We couldn’t be saved now. I know you are from the history. You won’t understand.” I kept staring him, waiting for him to go on. Things were unbelievable yet I was speechless considering his expressions. What does he mean when he said I am from history? When we all are born, there are some modifications are done into our genes to gives us superpowers. Superpower, if I consider you. Its very normal for us. This was a bliss. People were happy with their powers but one day,...

I lay awake in the patch of shadows and moonlight peeking in though my semi-open window, waiting for my parents to come back home. They left for respective meetings and in spite of knowing the fact that they won’t me back home soon, my heart lure to feel their presence and my eyes moistens, making my vision blur. It’s not the first time, nor the last.  It would be my future as it was my past. Thoughts in my mind were racing, disappearing faster than I could have comprehend them. I raised up from the bed and without turning the lights on, I walked towards the door with my intentions clear to me. I didn’t pull out a jacket but it was expected to be cool outside.  “You should protect yourself from getting swayed with your unwitty impulsive mind. It won’t take time for cool things to become cold for you.”  These would have been the words of my mom had she been here but, anyways. She has always been great in playing with words, creating their maze around me. It was the...

  I fade in and out of my thoughts. I oscillate between the thoughts snatching my attention and later, liberating me to drift back to the soothing sleep which says that nothing else matters. My thought leaves my side when my sleep drifts me away with it and I come back to my never-ceasing-to-think brain with another dream. Everyone else in the home is asleep in their own imaginatory world that belongs just, just to them. As I open my eyes, nothing is visible to me. Darkness engulfs everything. No even ones shadow is spared from it. I open the window a bit more, to let in the moonlight shining and dancing outside. It enlightens the room a bit but not all the nook and corners of it. Stepping out from the bed, I turned on a little torch and searched for mirrors (I couldn’t turn on the lights as I don’t want to break the spell casted in the moment by the night).Now, by placing the mirrors the way I want them to be , I could direct the moonlight to the place I want it to glimmer arounds...