Inclined Chronicles of Indulgence

How much time is enough? What test is affirmative? Which word is assuring? When is picture perfect? It’s hardly been enough lengthy to tell its long, nor it feels like yesterday. The first meet felt like they had been strangers all the while who knew each other since ages. The touch felt like the same hands they have been holding since long, yet they touched each other for the first time. Presence of kith and kin made no difference. They went into the oblivion of existence of the world beyond us. Though the touch assured of a known soul, the spark was distinctly electrifying. They defied physics and time; may be love is surreal. The hearts break into million pieces to gather strength for the second rendezvous. That is when they knew they are meant to be. But still they had no idea what they were meant to be. She knew ecstasy of joy; she tasted orgasm; she rejoiced life.  The duration that parts the departure and arrival is such that the hearts shelter in hibernation. The

Have you seen the intertwined vines? Have you noticed how complicatedly yet beautifully they are woven into each other? Have you seen the waterfall with all its water falling from high above and bouncing back into the space? Have you noticed the tiny rainbows forming over the tiny foundations? Have you seen the restless butterflies hovering, fluttering with inexhaustible energy over flowers and twigs and leaves? Have you ever heard a tiger roaring in the wild, sending tremor across the jungle beasts? Have you seen a hurt lioness guarding her cubs? Have you been stung by a bee because the hive has been disturbed? Have you walked alone along the shore, waves hitting your feet, and pushing and pulling you into the sea? Have you felt the sun basking your naked body in the morning river water? Have you felt the water dripping down your temples to your bosom, racing to reach your loin? Have you felt the joy of watching the crescent moon inked on the canvas of dark night? Have you felt

Death. I don't discuss death. I talk of life, of after-life, but never death. Death is an event, and living is the process. This event just suddenly turns big tables upside down in a moment's time. I believe while we are living, we are also marching towards the final salute. In this letter to you, my love, I want to tell you how I feel about it. Firstly, any-x that keeps me away from you is the means of my death. When you return to our nest and don't find me opening the door for you, just know that that time length has taken its toll on me. You would be delighted to find my corpse in our closet with our sweet picture in my arms. Secondly, please know that I am really scared of that last obvious event. Your beautiful consolation of after-life sounds to me like the aftermath of a disaster. And in this disaster the tears won't be for people you don't know. I have the surety of this one life; I want to make the most of it. I want to prepare the fitt

I wish I could have been just yours. I wish no other man had any imprint on me before you had. I wish no other air would have breathed life in my hair, except yours.  I wish no other incident rushed blood to my heart except your touch. I wish no other bite made my lips bleed, except yours. I wish no other eyes delved into my sun-kissed honey brown eyes, except yours. I wish no other arms had wrapped me whole, except yours. I wish no other care had nourished my tears, except yours. You turned up from a corner where I probably strolled carelessly once upon a time. From a silhouette, you turned into my steel. You made a stranger become a part of my broken star. You build up a present from a ruined history. You could have anything perfect but you choose a tattered art like me. You can withdraw any time you want to, but instead you are ceaselessly with me. I love to read. Yet, you created a listener in me. I don't like the vacuum of space in my heart, validated by many sharp pin