CHAPTER 1
The day was rough, relentless rain and wrath that it brought with .The sun playing hide and seek with the clouds. The nature had so much to offer but his lips seek out a cigarette instead , the act now so practiced that it barely needs rehearsals. He speaks with breath wrapped in nicotine.
He was his own valentine; composed, comic, tragic and stubborn, all at the same time. His words are like the stars walking on the red carpet.
His canvas was always filled with bright colors but of late it prefers to remains blank. His pallet narrates a tale of tragedy, somehow, the colors doesn't seem to gel anymore .He seems to have lost the magic of making his canvas speak.
He may not be a bookworm but always used to think differently on issues which most used to ignore. But it gave him a lot of confidence to do something on his own. (It gives a feeling of immense pleasure to see your thoughts taking shape)
He was hurt, world seemed a bad place to dwell. After each puff a different thought burst into his head. This time he wondered, “Does graduation marks the beginning of a new life leaving behind the people who helped you climb the ladder?”
That night, he became nostalgic and remembered how his grandmother used to tell stories about miracles, miracles he loved to explore every night, miracles that came out of nowhere. Oh, he hoped some kind of miracle would take place for his sake!
Life has changed in a whisker and he kept wondering what went wrong. Was he not good enough??? Was he not practical??? Or was it just because life was not beautiful anymore???
He loved his job and it was his only friend. He tried a lot but failed. He was swelled with abilities but slowly he gave them up. He was surprised to see himself begging for a life which would take him away from the crowd which ones he liked. He wanted to but couldn't. Slowly but surely he was burning inside like a cigarette.
He wanted to get out, wanted to dream once again…
To Be Continued...
