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Saturday, December 4, 2010

Life.

The last vestiges of daylight slip away like grains of sand from my aching fingers. I smile at the night, as it engulfs me in its warm embrace, covering my wounds with its blanket. And I lie oblivious, till a dagger of sunlight creeps up on me, and stabs me like a vengeful, jilted lover. 

7 comments:

Sumit Sarkar said...

Amazing...
I loved reading it... :)

Corinne Rodrigues said...

Welcome back! You were missed. Great come back post...I hope you're planning to stay and WRITE :)

Sumit said...

WOW, my blog is still read by people!!

@Sumit... thanks!

@Corinne... thanks! I missed meeting you, while I was in Mumbai. These days work is killing me, and I barely manage to sleep for 3-4 hours a day. No weekends either. :(

So, even I hope I get time to write. :)

Roshmi Sinha said...

Wow! I don't recollect having come across such a poetic description of something as drab and mundane... as the weekday morning blues...

Nandita Mathews said...

I dont like morning too! bt m sure there was a deeper meaning here...:)

MangoMan said...

‎3 lines. 4 personifications. 6 metaphors. 2 similes. That's all Sumit Singla needs to knit awesomeness.

(straight from FB)

Sumit said...

Thanks everyone! :)