From @sharasekaram:
Black and white. Ebony and ivory. Cream and ash. Him and her. You and me. This is the story of how opposites attract. How two people from two completely different worlds, find themselves bound together by that one force – love. Love can make two worlds collide, but does that also mean destruction is imminent?
From @BatmanEarth12:
I am supposed to see blue and gold halos, but the only thing I am seeing now are black & white lines like the kind you find behind packets of Oreo.
Even acid cant quench my emptiness.
Why do I want to be normal? Is it because the other angels are calling me an abomination?
Its not my fault that I am a Nephilim.
From @gillian.nair:
You're sad and insignificant
You're lonely and fragile
You're broken and withdrawn
You're unforgiving
You're black. The darkest colour of your heart.
You're lonely dark soul.
You're alone and fucked up.
You're not 50 shades of grey
You're white and pure.
Honest and content.
You're mine.
From @AntonyCF:
This world is not black and white my child - a dying father.
He saw both black and white in her eyes - looking at his daughters eyes
Black and White, opposite polars of the same line! Just like you and me - two brothers
Once white, now black, evil times are upon us - said the tribes chief
From @shamsmakkiya:
The two thick friends,
Known as bridge jumpers,
Wagered a fortune.
Headed for the millionaire's row.
Sat majestically.
The flag dropped.
Their eyes were fixed on the black and white.
Tension rised.
Ended in a dead heat.
No!
Deemed the photo finish.
The black captured the win.
Anger emanated.
Money does break the fragile bonds.
From Saumya Fernando:
She sat down with her steaming coffee and relaxed her painful right leg on the stool nearby balancing the album on her lap. Taking a deep breath while opening it with her shaky hand, she read; Our Wedding. Her favourite black and white photograph. If only life had been as simple and clear as this.
From theshadowseeker:
Sun tanned skin covered partially by the white shirt and white flowing trousers. His black hair whisked up by the sea breeze as he walks barefoot, feet sinking into the sand. I dip into the pools of black within white that are his eyes. Explosions of colour within me, warm wet and undeniable.
From kahlusudda:
white teeth / yellow teeth / coffee stains / nicotine // white paper / brown paper / cellotape / book covers // yellow weather / brown leather / red floor / white socks // blue shorts / black socks / purple bruise / orange juice // blu-tack / white cap / red hat / black cat // straw hat / thatched roof / thunder bucket // under kitchen / table sink // black hole / white eyes // black whole / white eyes
From @wikifreakz:
The king was diagnosed with a brain tumour.
*
A prophecy claimed that a talisman buried under an ancient reservoir would bring him longevity.
Several black magic rituals were performed. Billions spent on excavations.
Meanwhile the rebels criticized 'It's just another white elephant'.
*
Months later..
Something miraculous happened.
The tests confirmed:
'HE hasn't got ANY!'
From @ Mari_deSilva:
On again, off again, they never fully got each other out of their systems. Now with different partners, they were good friends, comfortable and sincere. After a few drinks, he just wanted to hold her hand...ruffle her hair - nothing more. As his partner looked on from afar, she shifted uneasily, but didn't pull away.
From @PennyKinned:
Sunday morning is all about those black-and-white sheets.
Sitting on the porch with a pile of unread newspapers from the week, sipping hot masala chai. Reading in companionable silence. Rustle-rustle-rustle. Occasionally swapping stories. “Listen to this…” Cutting out adverts and articles for family and friends. Snip-snip.
It’s perfection. So…no news app for me, thanks.
Showing posts with label ashes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ashes. Show all posts
Monday, June 3, 2013
Monday, May 13, 2013
May 10: Ashes
From @rami_desh:
The memories of the dead are buried in their ashes.
But how could they be?
How could all those lives full of rich experience be embedded in those frail, fragile flakes?
They are timeless, for they have no past or future.
From @nuzster:
You’ve managed to steal my soul,
crush it,
leave me wanting,
weeping.
I was vulnerable.
Again.
I shouldn’t be.
The tears don’t stop.
How long till I feel again,
till the ashes settle,
and my soul breathes again?
From Jonathan Vittachi (@jonnyjujubes):
He never thought he'd be the one who would end up doing this, making the final arrangements for his father. It was as if this was the final deciding factor that pushed him from the precipice of child, to the man of the house. Funny, the control his father still had over him.
From @gajenmahen:
Chennai, 1993.
Mama had managed to call. He was on his way back to Kokkuvil, he said. She had been adamant that the ashes were to be scattered at Keerimalai.
She never made it out of the bunker they later said.
A violent death and a hurried funeral.
She was 78.
From @chav_:
"Listen to this... Mayer at his smoothest", I said turning the volume up.
"Ahhh, too good...". Another puff from the joint.
"Wanna watch some cricket?", he said, ashing.
"Not like you do, no?", said the other, looking at me disdainfully.
"'course I do!", protested self.
"But not the Ashes, shortstuff", they said, bursting into laughter.
From @BatmanEarth12:
It burned giving a shimmering halo. The ashes from the joint felt on my lap like snow. I am yet to understand why people engage in 'Kriya yoga' when you can easily realize God using psychedelics.
ARGH!!!!!
*cough* *cough*
Another coughing fit. Things don't always turn out to be rosy when you take the elevator to heaven without climbing the stairway.
From @Mari_deSilva & Saumya Fernando:
Absentmindedly she brushed the sacred powder on her forehead. She winced as she remembered his cowardice, his promises of bravado... If only she'd seen the signs. She could've saved her dignity, what was left of it at least. But she carried no malice. Dusting her fingers, she mopped her brow, fighting the rising bile...
From @shamsmakkiya:
He orphaned his poor wife and his beloved child in his mid 30s. All he left for them was a few ashes here and there.
"Chain-smoker" she sighed.
Crowded the crowd to witness the three soulless bodies that were being carried away to be cremated.
From @wikifreakz:
He beheld a sparklet.
Kept it in a tree hollow.
Ultimately,
the entire woods
burnt to ashes.
Yes!
Whilst a revolt breaks out,
No matter who's behind it..
Be it the old or the young,
The age cannot be
distinguished
And moreover,
It's rage cannot be
extinguished!
(Inspired by Bharathi's Agni Kunju)
From @PennyKinned:
He tipped the urn, scattering the ashes into the valley. The wind picked up the specks, each one a different memory. Glimmering laughter, cosy evenings, heated arguments, endless walks, explosive lovemaking, soul-searching conversations, warm cuddles, unflinching support… The ashes disappeared with the breeze, taking with them a lifetime of love. He stood still, now alone.
From @bhagsy:
It was melancholic day. Everyone around me was either crying or with puffy eyes from all the crying. It was an out of the body experience, watching the casket of my friend's body being lifted in to the crematorium. We stood around watching the smoke come through the chimney and to collect the ashes afterwards.
The memories of the dead are buried in their ashes.
But how could they be?
How could all those lives full of rich experience be embedded in those frail, fragile flakes?
They are timeless, for they have no past or future.
From @nuzster:
You’ve managed to steal my soul,
crush it,
leave me wanting,
weeping.
I was vulnerable.
Again.
I shouldn’t be.
The tears don’t stop.
How long till I feel again,
till the ashes settle,
and my soul breathes again?
From Jonathan Vittachi (@jonnyjujubes):
He never thought he'd be the one who would end up doing this, making the final arrangements for his father. It was as if this was the final deciding factor that pushed him from the precipice of child, to the man of the house. Funny, the control his father still had over him.
From @gajenmahen:
Chennai, 1993.
Mama had managed to call. He was on his way back to Kokkuvil, he said. She had been adamant that the ashes were to be scattered at Keerimalai.
She never made it out of the bunker they later said.
A violent death and a hurried funeral.
She was 78.
From @chav_:
"Listen to this... Mayer at his smoothest", I said turning the volume up.
"Ahhh, too good...". Another puff from the joint.
"Wanna watch some cricket?", he said, ashing.
"Not like you do, no?", said the other, looking at me disdainfully.
"'course I do!", protested self.
"But not the Ashes, shortstuff", they said, bursting into laughter.
From @BatmanEarth12:
It burned giving a shimmering halo. The ashes from the joint felt on my lap like snow. I am yet to understand why people engage in 'Kriya yoga' when you can easily realize God using psychedelics.
ARGH!!!!!
*cough* *cough*
Another coughing fit. Things don't always turn out to be rosy when you take the elevator to heaven without climbing the stairway.
From @Mari_deSilva & Saumya Fernando:
Absentmindedly she brushed the sacred powder on her forehead. She winced as she remembered his cowardice, his promises of bravado... If only she'd seen the signs. She could've saved her dignity, what was left of it at least. But she carried no malice. Dusting her fingers, she mopped her brow, fighting the rising bile...
From @shamsmakkiya:
He orphaned his poor wife and his beloved child in his mid 30s. All he left for them was a few ashes here and there.
"Chain-smoker" she sighed.
Crowded the crowd to witness the three soulless bodies that were being carried away to be cremated.
From @wikifreakz:
He beheld a sparklet.
Kept it in a tree hollow.
Ultimately,
the entire woods
burnt to ashes.
Yes!
Whilst a revolt breaks out,
No matter who's behind it..
Be it the old or the young,
The age cannot be
distinguished
And moreover,
It's rage cannot be
extinguished!
(Inspired by Bharathi's Agni Kunju)
From @PennyKinned:
He tipped the urn, scattering the ashes into the valley. The wind picked up the specks, each one a different memory. Glimmering laughter, cosy evenings, heated arguments, endless walks, explosive lovemaking, soul-searching conversations, warm cuddles, unflinching support… The ashes disappeared with the breeze, taking with them a lifetime of love. He stood still, now alone.
From @bhagsy:
It was melancholic day. Everyone around me was either crying or with puffy eyes from all the crying. It was an out of the body experience, watching the casket of my friend's body being lifted in to the crematorium. We stood around watching the smoke come through the chimney and to collect the ashes afterwards.
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