Story of an introvertA Story by sweta'karman'A silence rests inside with all the luxury inside offering a lifetime retreat and renunciation from the world outside......
It was like the parlous season of autumn when trees decimate, air becomes dry and veins frail due to the eclectic numbness in air hoovering the sighs inside and chasing out all the memories that were safe inside in the cache of yore. An arcane silence crept into my nerves making them rigid and drab without any sensation of thoughts, magical spells of whispers and words and symphony of enumerous events going on all around me. I seemed dispirited and dilapidated curling all my limbs inside the curve of my belly and stretch them out in a desire to squirt the blood out of my body but they remained inside. I couldn't shout and scream and invited comfort to rest in my secluded world where I appeared invisible to the outer world like a scent that disseminates but after some time vanishes leaving behind a faint impression of a something that just appeased the nostrils. Whatever I feel and contain inside may be increasing the weight of my chest which can never be bogged down, as I felt at one point of time when I started growing and keeping things to me. I remember I talked a lot long time back like in one of the eons, may be when I was enjoying the lures of childhood: where life was full of beginnings and no ends, where everything we saw was for real and forever ,where all the sights and scenes were full of secrets and source of desire and anxiety, where we had our self created cornucopia of wisdom which we shared with the peer and appended a lot in it, where big people seemed a bit strange and pretentious, where crying was so easy and laughing like a routine. I am big now. I am no more a child. I am changing, turning into a dweep who is scared of people staring at my transformation with a weird remark everytime want more darkness to not have sight of even my own body. I do not want to talk, I want a retreat looking at everyone looking at me, listening to everyone trying to listen to me and swirling my instinct to pull out any thought remaining. © 2012 sweta'karman'Author's Note
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Added on July 28, 2011Last Updated on January 7, 2012 Tags: experience, life, dolorous, melancholy, observation Authorsweta'karman'kanpur, IndiaAboutI am a writer,who writes and writes and go on writing till the end for two specific reasons:first to placate my inner being who is also a writer and second to go back in times whose moments are frozen.. more..Writing
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