An Untold Saga

The stranger sighed
and asked the girl to rise
The stranger listened
as the girl cried

The girl now have a shoulder
Her friend, the stranger
painted her world
with one loving smile

The stranger was gone
The girl tried to live on
Then she realized
The stranger was her song

Though the stranger never believed
He kept drifting apart
The girl kept her promise
with her song in her heart

The stranger faced walls
Thought he saw life
But was defeated
And tormented with lies

The girl turned around to leave
Held the stranger’s hand
Said her goodbye
And she was gone

The stranger called her name
His smile said it all
But she was perplexed
And feared this is the end

He held her very close
And said the three words
and for the first time in her life
She gave the words a nod

Hence its been six years since
They created their world
Carved their own sun and moon
with their own sweat and blood

 

The stranger and the girl
Still holding hands
Still singing the same song
and still going strong

The stranger is her man
The girl his woman
Their world has its little hells
But its their heaven…

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L?

A glance, of trust

A feeling thats must

A word, spoken million times

Its meaning, mistaken billion times

Blood rushing up ones face

Numbness in ones gaze

Touch turning the tide

Life becomes carousel ride

I put a question mark

Let the answer be my spark

Love?

The day my patrón killed an Italian…

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It was a usual friday and a friday lunch is what I always look forward to in my drab work life. And there I was, at dot 1400hrs, standing facing the oh-so-familiar white board which announces ‘Todays mainu’ and found myself scratching my head trying very hard to decipher a particular item on it and voila! we had a ‘murdered’ italian exotica on our mainu…mama mia!!  

Why?

Why?

because I want to

Why?

because I feel like

Why?

because I HAVE TO

Ok, the Q now…why Queen Regnant?

Cut one…Spent more than 15 days thinking what to name my blogging ‘resurrection’ even asked my blogger dost, Sanjukta, she suggested it should be as distinct and special as you…cut two I am in love with Egyptian history, not that much that I have a horus name and a nebty name tucked inside my belt, I find it alluring, mysterious and the mere foundation of our basic govermental nuances…cut three Hatshepshut and our very own female icon Cleopatra are the ones who qualify to be “Queen Regnant” simply meaning a female monarch who possesses all the monarchal powers that a king would have without regard to gender…the final cut…I consider myself the Queen of my own domain [whatever it is], Queen of my own little world and yes the one who enjoys the anarchy and tyranny I bestow on my own people…sniff!

A little bit about Queen Regnant again…

its here..http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queens_regnant

A little bit about me…

For all those who know me, know my name [ofcourse!] For the visiting ones I am Kreeti [means creation]. A hardcore optimist with shades of pessimism, bundle of complexities, a gizmo freak, a voracious reader and love cheese, practically on anything.  Love my family and friends to death and love my husband a little bit more than that.

I have decided keep honing my blogging skills and not to abandon this effort.

Hope you stay good.