Tiyasha KhanraI was smoking on my roof after a hectic day at work. I saw the smokes circling towards the moon. Both are the same in color. Childhood memories were dripping in my mind. It’s not an accurate childhood but teenage if I correct myself.
I observed my silhouette. Absolutely sexy. I was trying to focus on the moon. Thinking about the Chandrayaan 3 that is still there.
But very fast I lost track of that thinking. The thoughts were intercepted with other thoughts. Shortly I started thinking about how my favourite teacher used to spell my and my friends name incorrectly while we were in school. How agitated I used to feel about that. But see now, how far time has taken us. I don’t know where is he or where she is.
Paths departed. Things changed with time. We lost ourselves.
Do they cherish those memories like me? Do they still count how many days we didn’t talk or embrace each other? I realised I was sweating unusually. My phone started ringing. Some business calls may be. Went ignored. I continue to stare at the moon thinking the moon is so fake like me. It seems like it has her light. But in reality it is as dark as me. But there is discrimination also. The moon’s wounds are appreciated but mine is criticised. The moon appears to be untouched and all I have is a virgin heart.
ohh! It seems like it’s a call from downstairs. It’s a call for dinner. But I must tell the truth before I get off the roof. I have dropped my heart long before. Someone found it for sure and didn’t return and that made me a heartless creature similar to the moon, that has no feelings.
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పెద్దన్న
వంశీ కృష్ణ
కృష్ణుడు
శ్రీనివాస్ గౌడ్
కృపాకర్ పోతుల
తిలక్ బొమ్మరాజు
కవనమాలి
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