Words are Life

"I fell for your words", she said.

I blushed. My pen never knew a toll. My eyes weaved every kind of sight into feeling making a perfect sweater to my heart, to wrap it warm. My brain hallucinated round the clock. In her memory, I am thee present. 

"You write so well, it shouldn't stop at any cost", she said. 

Listening to her spelling those words was a crude slay to my heart. Reading those texts always made me go high. Whatever she sent and whenever I received something ,there used to be a mutual smile and mutual feel, at times. As the mood differs, I'd send her a laughing emoji being sad at that moment, just to keep her smiling. To give a breath to that lively moment. Even she might have done that. I don't know. 

Since the day she got my imaginative attention, flow of words began. The only flaw of a flow is, it is an obstructive task to stop or store. Either it will break the dam or will explode breaking out with a pressure of tearing a mountain. 

Feelings play a vital role in human life. Everyone is a prey. I, you and us as obvious.

Most remembered words are from the poets and authors. They live for a fortune. Shakespeare is dead they said. But he is still alive in every word he penned.

There is no personal will or a planned schedule to become a poet. One has to write in-order to become a poet. It is a calling, where you receive it as a drug into your veins. You'll have a gush to write as felt. You'll have that urge and Luz to weave it as nice as you feel, smooth and gentle, word by word, line by line. The way you start it syn-chronically leads you to end it as per your feel and imagination. That perfect melody comes only when you are a human. Luckily, you are!

Everyone can write a poem. Exploding by bending towards your paper and scripting is far better than lonely dark tears, where the declining energy levels, keep bothering you and signalling you that you are weak and getting more and more weaker. But a poet does it in a smartest way. Penning it down fearless and ferocious is it. That's it. 

Artist's lives are dark in much of the read history. They release a helium lantern into the sky in the midst of darkness. Giving a specter to many eyes selflessly. But not many get that. 

Darkness which bring out a life from an artist came to me one day. Not a new thing for me but it came anew when I was in love, where we were busy pulling our hairs and tails. 

"Words doesn't have life, stop flying. Be practical." she said.  

My wings got twisted and broken, all at once. But I didn't agree with her with a due belief I always had robust, "Words do have life." 

A woman on a bridge pole who dared to commit suicide was saved by a normal goer guy. He couldn't see a valuable life vanishing before his eyes. He didn't go climb onto the bridge and drag her back. Rather, he had a conversation with her for a span of 2 hours. She was convinced and walked back to him holding his hand. His words saved a life. 

Words doesn't have life? Really?

Either you must be speaking by your mouth with a boon of brain, or , you must be drawing a line to let push me out slow and steady. That's a smart move!

Smart moves gain a lot of attention in a relation when the ship isn't sailing well. For every tide, one shouldn't be feared. In the mid is where you got to fear of not reaching the end and in the end you gotta die anyway smiling. In the latter, the ship will remain where the relation goes vapor. As a payback, may be it will shower as rain on someone. Your loved ones! May or may not be!

Words may not have heart and lungs. But the potential they do have has moved and changed the world in many terms of geography and spirit science. Wars were lit and blown by words. Good and bad is the entities of the words. Need causing greed is making the words lose the life in the world. 

Influence is words. 
Education is words. 
Love is words.
Life is words. 
Cold-War/War is words.
Peace is words. 

Everything is due to words. Some imbue the life with a fragrance and some toxic it. 

No writer writes to mesmerize a reader. What fetches the author/poet by mesmerizing a reader? Null it is. Writing is a war on self. Some never get it. Fame and money is diluting literature. Words are changing as per the modernity. Lines are getting artificial. 

As per my soul, writing is supernatural. The divinity of words is inducted into a reader's soul only when imbued on words. Else not!

My pen runs on a sole fueled ink called soul. When it is dead, the ink is nib vacuumed and my pen'd be dead. 

Never say there is no life. There is life. You are life. I am life. We are life. Bird is life. World is life. Everything which saves,caves,paves,raves,waves is a life. 

For me,
Words are Life!

To you,
I want to be that Life!

Wish so!


                                                                                                                               


               Inked  
                                      by

Tarun.