In Vacant or in Pensive Mood

A storm raged in the sea of her heart, Rapidly flooding her eyes; The salty waters gushed out, Desperately in search of respite. Drowning in the chaos of her stormy sea Which soaked her pillow and stained her cheeks, She almost couldn't remember  What sunny days used to be. As darkness surrounded her, And her tired eyes grew heavy, She gave in, almost gratefully, For a chance to escape reality. Drifting into another world, She saw clear skies and a silver sea, Calling out to her from the far end of a stretch of sand. With the morn she rose, Determined with renewed energy. Was it the restful sleep or the dreams that lay beyond That faraway land? One to make dreams come true, She set out in search of it. Because those frothy ends of that silver sea Had beckoned her to wet her feet. Led to its shores, without a thought She went on towards the sparkling waters, Reflecting a million sunbeams that gleamed Down on her fro

I had quite a rough day at work today. My boss kept asking me to rework what was a perfectly good promotional writeup. I was forced to work late, and when I left office two hours later than usual, he still didn't look so satisfied. I was frustrated by the end of the day. When I'm feeling an emotion, any emotion at all, my immediate reaction is to vent it out. As I walked out of office, I decided it wouldn't be such a good idea to talk loudly to my alter ego in public. So I decided to call someone I thought might listen empathetically. I called twice, but there was no answer. So much for empathy! Feeling more frustrated,and a little hurt, I called my dad. When he answered the phone, I told him that I was just leaving office then. He enquired why I was leaving that late; I grabbed the question as an opportunity to vent out my emotional story. My dad heard half the story, and at some point when I paused (for dramatic effect), thought I was done, and hung up! Disappointed,

Once again, I managed to drag myself out of bed, bathe in heated water, dress up in a hurry, partially comb my wet hair, and finally rush to the bus stop at 6:45 am. My earrings and safety pins were still clenched in my fist, and the things inside the bag slung over my shoulder lay cluttered as I pulled out my ID card and wore it around my neck. The bus would be there any minute. The bus arrived at 6:50 am, and I boarded it with a smile, and waded through the aisle as I looked for a place to sit. Coming to two empty seats adjacent to each other, I dropped my bag into the first one, and slid my own self into the other one by the window. I opened out the closed window and immediately felt content as the pleasant morning breeze made its way in. Quickly, I organized the things in my bag, put on my earrings, pinned up my clothes wherever necessary, opened out my hair and combed it lightly. Then I adjusted my seat to just the right position; pushed back so that I could lean comfortably,