The Storytellar

Let's get lost in a world made of books,coffee and rainy days


Coz a wise man once said 

“Never trust a woman with cold hands”



I am tired of being the poet

Just for once,

Let me be the POEM.

A story unwritten

All shriveled up ,she was sitting by the fire,holding the unlit cigarette in her hand and staring at the yellow flames of the wood.I have never seen her so quite in my life.even though I pretend ,still somewhere deep down, I care bout her n I cannot see her sad and wounded like that.

I held my chair n dragging it on the ground I placed it next to her .she raised her brows n gave a faint smile .I asked “are u gona lit the cigarette or just gona play with it”

 she pointed the cigarette toward me n      said ,”I don’t have a lighter”.I smiled, deliberately making the exale audible,.           i leaned forward to pick up a stick from the burning fire n helped her light the cigarette.she closed her eyes and took a long drag, exhaling a puff of smoke in the air ,she opened her eyes and kept staring at the dark of the skies.

As I turned towards her,i saw the smoke rising from the cigarette  brushed against her face like a painter giving a golden hue to the setting sun.

Her eyes still fixed in the stars she said,”I wish once he would have looked at me the way u do” .

Once more

‚ÄčThe body is numb..

The spirit is missing..

The soul is tired..

But the blood is rushing..

A  mind full of thoughts,

ready to explode..

The memories fading away,

in its glorious form..

The flesh is melting,

leaving with  cringe..

The light of hope is not getting through..

The love of others not reaching you..

The body and the mind is ready to rest,

But the Heart still beats to say just once more


O preacher, all your acts profound were  salt rubbed in my wounds.Now, if you don’t mind tell me. what pleasure in that do u find?



As I stepped out of the bar,My throat was still sore with all that vodka I had, Stumbling somehow I climbed down the stairs cursing the bar owner,Cursing my self and everything that came to my troubled mind.

I rubbed my eyes adjusting them to the bright Street lights,As I started walking on the empty street my mind turned inimical with the old memories.

All that discipline,Uniform, Medals and I never thought one day I would come to this,I never expected life to be fair with a war veteran but never thought it would turn up like that.And who would like to live with a crippleI said to myself ,as if comforting myself that it’s all my fault.Why she had left me ,after all it’s all wealth and riches that a women desire.Had there been a Juliet today she would have gone for  the guy with a long car and an expensive suit and with that I burst into laughter at my own joke,As my laughter echoed on the empty street it filled my heart with anger and self pity,I clinched my fist in ire and kept walking.

As I reached the old wooden bridge connecting the city to my town,A breeze hit me and I stopped at the center of the bridge and turned round to see the water gushing underneath my feet,The dark water of the river felt as if it was calling to me,Reminding me of the days I used to spend hours and hours by its side.

I stepped over the fence and like a reed i was waving between the north and the south winds.For the one last leap I took embracing the cold waters.

The river currents drifted my floating body to the bank of the river,Where everyone stood staring at me lying lifeless .And a young lad in the crowd said,”I know him,He is an alcoholic.He might have tripped in the river and died, Hearing that I smiled for one last time before my soul left my body.


Like a shadow I followed u around.

like a moth to the fire ,i have burned up my wings.

with ever breath I took,i whispered ur name 

My pleas,my prayers they are all to u.

Yours are the last words I want to hear

Ur sight Is wat my aching eyes desire.

For the world above n the world beyond ur arms are wat I seek to travel along.


Some what

‚Äčoh yes,I know you will never response to my eager epistle-a-day.

yet,Being a slave to my pen and ink,I must write,Come wat may.



On a distant land in the dark heart of the forest, sailing on a wooden boat she was humming the songs of the older gods.

    Slicing through the waters of the long stagnant lake, she was rowing her boat to land of the living,even the wind howling between the trees came to a still when it passed by her.sailing through the lake she passed by the hut of the old grumpy farmer ,she turned  her boat and with a thud it hit the shore.

As she walked to the hut there was a calmness in the forest and her footsteps on the dried leaves were the loudest of the noises that can be heard.she entered the hut through the recently painted wooden door.

 As she stepped in, the creaking sound of the wooden chair on the floor got her attention,she say the old man sitting near the fire lost in his thoughts.The old man turned around n with indignation he said”wat took u so long,I thot u won’t be coming even for this winter ,n look I even repaired the door it was getting cold in here.

Death: aren’t u scared of me?

The old man stood up and walked to the self pouring himself a glass of wine. he said,”no I m not, I have seen many a brave man melt like wax in ur hands,they say u are the most beautiful of the gods creation.

The old man sat on his chair n took a sip from his glass n placed it on the side of the chair, never to raise it again.

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