Pulse

Lost. Lost was all I was.  In the folds of my walnut brain The indistinguishable twigs and stems of my veins In the darkness that followed, In the pool of blood, On the skull space so hollow, As I quiver mid-air as if shocked by the air - Lost. Lost was all I was. _____________________________________________________________________  I knew deep down what direction was mine. What road had shone the brightest for me. What path was mine and what gave me more than what no money, power or status could ever amount into giving me -   Satisfaction . The pleasure of being satisfied.  But I also knew how hard it was going to be. How untraditional it was. That it will demand of me what no money, power or status could ever demand -   Honesty . The honesty of hard work. The uncorrupted involvement of each and every cell of my body. And the honest emotions that would reflect in the heat of my face and the beating of my heart every time...

23rd June, 2014. Dear Diary, Even though I have just invented you for this post, today you're going to be my close companion and listen to one of the most beautiful instances I've ever witnessed.  But before I start narrating, I need a name for my story. You'd be surprise that even though a name to a story is nothing, for the story is the meat; it often takes a lot more time to come up with one. Often more time than itself a story ever takes. At least to me, that has happened quite often. Nevertheless, after thinking well and hard, I finally decided on one. I’ll call my story:                                                                  ...