Gaurav the writer#

Few people are just born fortunate; inheritances, credentials, skills, opportunity, love and so on. Keep adding adjectives. You love someone fight for her with families and when everything was almost poised you realized that it’s gone. You question yourself; was it everything you were fighting for? Dreams smashed, bruises of pass by days snatches the complacency. Not on   your   tintype ……………………………..and it’s over now. You were making castle in the most beautiful part of your world and sooner you find yourself adjunct in the end of the world. You repent over and over again; being good was a choice but not the option. Life slams the door and darkness prevails. Justifying good self; and demeaning other’s shortcoming. Life isn’t good as it presumed in books, psalm and in dreams. It’s like a computer game that cheats when you are almost about to finish and to reach to the next level. 

Welcome to the graveyard of memoire, you won’t find the closed gate or the decoration of any kind. A thin pavement filled with dust of gone by years and enormous foot prints of known and unknown would pave you to the memories of the sleeping people. Some of gravestones are imprinted with name and years on it where as few are unrecognized. The shape, size and texture differentiate them; few are as fresh as they have been buried off late and few struggling hard to be remembered. It has never seen the happy faces or smiling attendant. Every worldly prompt and parade ends here. Although it is always busy day and night with the visitors and attendants. Flowers and garlands often decorate either the new one or the one that never forgotten.