It's like agony. The wait.
It's like a knife twisting in my gut. The fear.
It's the laboured breathing. The anticipation.
And the reason is you.
How stupid to have fallen for you.
When I could have saved myself.
And here I am,blithely stepping into the spider's  web.

The stroke of the pen on the paper,
Soothes my nerves.
The very fact that I see the blue ink taking shape of my words,
Convinces me that I am alive and breathing.

All her life she has,
Been looking for
Approbations. But to
No avail. She always,
Encounters failure.

All her life she has,
Waited for the moment,
When her family looks
At her with pride and
Satisfaction in the eyes.

All her life she has,
Fallen on the floor,
With a loud thud.
But she also has had,
The strength to get up,
With much more vigour.

All her life,she has looked for perfection and returned empty handed.

Swarthy and calloused
Hands guide the fragile
And delicate ones in
The kitchen. They murmur
Words of wisdom and
Instructions for frying
The puri with precision.
The boiling oil is very
Intimidating at first,like
Those devils waiting to
Pounce on you in the
Gates of hell. Intimidation
Turns to fascination and
In no time,the puri comes
To life,filled with air and
Hard work amidst the
Golden-ish oil that shines.
The mission has been
Accomplished and one
New lesson learnt. Those
Swarthy hands are going
To be like this forever-
A mentor. A teacher.
A mother. To a forever-
Learning daughter.

She screams through
The nightmare that was
Once a dream. She stirs
And awakens from the
Slumber. She can't sleep
Anymore. Sweaty palms
A growing headache.
When will this stop,she
Asks herself. She has no
Answer and tries again,
Closed eyes,and positive
Thoughts to fight the evil,
She tries. Does she succeed?

Sometimes in life,we have
To take risks. Risks that
Make our life better and
Leave no regrets.

The little crack in the window,
Makes me wonder,
What lies ahead,
Beneath and under.

Is it danger?
Is it hope?
Is it love? I ponder.

The clock ticks on my side,
And my eyes fall to my school work,
Forgotten and aside.

It must be the unknown.
It could be good or bad.
I will fight it. I decide.

After all,
Strength is what leads you on.
I may be a pawn,
In the Game of Life.
It shall be the reason why I am born.

To fight.

Her face breaks into a smile,
As she sees her daughter's face.
Rotund. Ruddy. Impossible to replace.

Her face turns into one of pride,
As her daughter's pudgy hands grasp the trophy.
Gay and full of glee.

Amidst all this,
The former is sad,
As thoughts of her growing up,
Enter her mind.
Like an impending doom.
It feels like too soon.

Something tugs her plaid tunic down,
Oh,my Baby!
She says in her mind.
She grins and it's all it takes to unwind,
From her morose musings..
And accept her fate.