This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 33
; the thirty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton
. The theme for the month is ‘Celebrations’
I fly across the winds under the clouds amid the people carrying an untold story of a heart counting his last few hours. He may not see her again, but his last few words will tell her, how badly he missed his lost love. I need to find her, and I do not have any other choice. I have less time left. Can I make it to her? I doubt if I can. I continue flying hoping I can be a reason for someone’s happiness.
Someone has caught me. I guess it is a little baby. She has small blue eyes, tiny ears, and a sweet curve on her round face; her tender hands complete her. She is a Goddess. I would be happy if she handover me to her mother or someone who can read me, will she?
Oh, God she throws me down, this is bad 🙁 I need to fly… I need to… I need…to…fly… But my bad, I’m lying in the streets of Mumbai 🙁 Will someone pick me up? I wonder if it can happen.
Ouch! It’s hurting. What could be this sharp thing? I guess… It must be a… Dog, is it? This is bad again. I should fly to reach her. Dog, please leave me down. I beg you. I beg you… please… When I’m almost lost, a ray of hope came in the form of burger as he let me down in the process of filling his stomach. I’m saved. I start my journey once again in search of her with the help of winds. The wind current is amazing as I feel being loved whenever the wind touches me softly. I’m lucky, as it is a windy day.
Winds…please do not stop. I love this feeling but…the happiness does not last long as I land on a chair. I wish someone can pick me up from here and help me reach her. Will it happen? I’m depressed as no one came touched me so far…and after an hour of desperate waiting, someone took me in his hands. He must be in his forties I guess and I’m glad as he starts reading.
Wet Winds blew again and I fly from his hand to a nearby apartment, pass through the window and finally I found her… She reads with her pink lips…
So much has been said to you over the years. I have exhausted the vocabulary explaining my situation on that fateful day. Still you are not ready to either accept me or forgive me. I’m not sure what to do or how to get you back and I cannot tolerate this pain. Hence, I have decided to end this in an easy way. I’m sorry to say I’m writing to you after having consumed seven sleeping pills. I know you hate writers who kill English; hence, please pardon me and ignore the typos and grammatical errors.
Still I feel like it was yesterday I saw you in pink colored frock riding her bicycle…but ten years have passed by and we have grown; in fact, a lot. I wished you would be my better half, even dreamt a life with our kids, but our fate, we had to part after living together for a year. I agree it is my mistake, though I can blame the situation I was in; still I did the repair work, and I waited for you to accept me, but…
“The beautiful word found my human being for the unseen feeling is love.” Do you remember this? I said holding your hands in the rain when I first kissed you. I felt the same whenever I kissed you as you always throws up newness and mystery in our life. I love every second I lived with you and hoping to live at least for one more second with you.
“Men know better than the language does.” You said after we made love for the first time and I have said, “I now know how an Angel looks like.” Do you at least remember this?
I have heard people saying, “If our life is short then God gifts happy moments!” I have had enough. I wish to write more but I’m unable to see anything clearly and my eyelids close without my order.
I need you… The fragrance of flower still reminds you, the sounds of chirping birds reminds you, the tender hands reminds your touches, it kept me alive, and I realize that there is no life without you.
I want to say I still love you with all my heart. I would love to hear your voice once before my end. So, please…call me Sweetie Pie when this letter reaches you. I would celebrate dancing for our favorite song, if I’m alive by God’s grace. I do not think I would be…
PS: Isha must be two I guess. Say that her Dad will come someday to meet her.
A teardrop fell from her eyes to wet me. I’m sure she would call him and I wish he had come out of coma to pick her call.
I can hear her voice… “Sid…I…”
Sid has a reason to celebrate life with Hassini and Isha. I too have a reason to celebrate as I reached her in time.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics
who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts
can be checked here
. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton
. Participation Count: 23
PS: I’m participating without contesting for votes. Hence I’ve published the post a day before Blog-a-Ton. Good luck!
PPS: This is part two of An Untold Story published in last edition and the story will continue in the next edition and the storyteller will be the letter. 🙂 Please encourage with your words 🙂
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend
, an initiative for Indian Bloggers
PS: Creativity is a result of inspiration. A paper was flying across the road amid the people to land on my face. To my surprise, someone has written “I Love U Idiot!” and that’s pretty much the inspiration of this post. WoW or not? Do let me know 🙂
and BlogAdda says…..
Do you like the story? Promote
on IndiBlogger, Share
on Facebook, Pin on Pinterest, Share
on Google or Tweet using the button here.. Do leave your footprints! Thanks in advance!