From The Shelves Of Kashmir

<script async src=”//“></script>
<!– taw-responsive –>
<ins class=”adsbygoogle”
(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});

“It’ll be a terrible event when we’ll touch each other. So afraid of exploding, we’d flinch when the corners of our eyes expand to hook their infinity. We’ll try to resist, we’ll hold back, but then we would touch and we’d explode as vividly as the beautiful waters of Jhelum, where it runs most blue. All the discouragement that blurred the moon would sneeze to make way for the chivalry we just did. Our hearts will perpetuate, fueling the browsing they ever did. All this and much more, perhaps when in a fickle our five fingers pointed towards sky are flatly stuck together, for as much, open palms wouldn’t matter.


Let time flick the wand and swear on our exploding selves, being smeared in crayons and let the archangel be our harbinger to navigate the sunset sea.
We’d just sink weightlessly, no cries, no tears, no mess of thoughts, and vanish recklessly in the waves, for once. I promise it’d be timeless and enough to feel like a lifetime.

You may mildly wonder and say “We just met.”

Oh I’d weep for it!”

~UFF  | Edited by Afreen Zeb



Image Courtesy:

<script src=”//” async=””></script>
 <ins class=”adsbygoogle” style=”display: block;” data-ad-format=”autorelaxed” data-ad-client=”ca-pub-3446446293618986″ data-ad-slot=”1246221352“></ins>
<script>// <![CDATA[
     (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});
// ]]></script>


Share With Friends

Leave A Comment

Your email address will not be published.

Send this to a friend