Hello everybody.

I just penned down this piece of writings and decided to post it here, please ignore the errors whatsoever. What I initially supposed to be writing did not come out the right way, though. It shaped up into this eventually, like when I kept writing - I totally deviated from what I was to write actually.

Do leave in your comments, all sorts of criticism is welcomed. Please use like if you think this is worth.

EDITED:

I made some changes at the end of the story and posted this different version in my blog. Here's the link in case you wish to read the other version:

http://www.sinistersoul-k.blogspot.com/

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One Shot: An Unusual Soul

Kesha sat peacefully on top of the desk and ate her food. It was the recess and the is-this-a-fish-market teacher accompanied her class teacher for lunch. What bad luck! She bit her apple and sipped in some juice, while quietly introspecting the fish sellers and buyers still acquired her mind the most. The twins discussed last night's Tere Liye, Naina and Tanu discussed the recent hot topic at school while Kesha's best friend looked close to confused. She scratched her head and shouted so hard out of the blue that her scream actually broke Shayla out of her retard-like reverie.

 

However, the real retard in the house was the one and only ' Anwesha! Kesha would never understand as to how would Anwesha manage to be called the finest student in class, fetch out of the world marks and still be so grounded? So loving and cheerful all the time! Kesha was the exact opposite; she would score well but not be in the good books of teachers. She would talk less but whenever she chose to utter a word, it would devastate the whole atmosphere. People had different advices to offer and different perceptions about the fourteen year old catholic lass, however Kesha knew who she was ' noticeable but not likable!

 

A little here and a little there, she moved uneasily in her seat. Every five minutes, she would find herself turning her head one-eighty degrees towards the bad fellow sitting at the very last seat and inspecting him from head to toe. Every five minutes! His character was just too intriguing, she'd always say.

 

And then, she would be interrogated by a girl with a mole at the centre of her forehead through the eyes. As they stole glances, the teacher continued reading a Hindi lesson about the Pre-independent period of India. Only a handful of students paid attention, the girls were part of them though. They'd some polished multi-tasking skills.

 

 

What Kesha hated the most was a free period! 'W*F are we here for if the teacher hasn't turned up?' is what she would always say. But to her bad luck, in those days when the rate of free periods in a day shot up due to the annual day's rehearsal, she would get at least two free periods a day. And like always, she chose to read the encyclopedia she'd issued from the not-so-good school's definitely-not-good library over joining Shayla and team with all the rubbish under the sun to discuss.

 

She flicked through the pages she'd read, trying to recollect them from the previous day. With every new topic, she would have a different expression painted on her bright face and pale eyes. She'd sometimes have her mouth wide open, and rest of the times she would flatly whisper it and try to memorize it. When she realized all her friends were nearly making fun of her, she rolled her inquisitiveness to a halt so that the whole encyclopedia reading did not result in some more peculiar expressions.

 

And now, she walked through the corridors of the school with her bag hanging on her shoulders and eyes fixed in a novel. She was being called out for by her friends but she repeatedly signaled them apologies for she just wouldn't join them. She brushed pass a frail figure, yet it totally made her lose her balance and drop the novel. It was Alisha; even though she could not meet Kesha's eyes she picked up the book and handed it over to her.

 

'Thanks.' Kesha mouthed.

 

'You're welcome.' Alisha replied, and vanished into thin air.

 

Humans are multi-facet and Kesha was the finest example to put across. She had detached herself from all her near and dear ones, her cynic self had been acting immensely onto her, deterring her goodwill more than the last time every millisecond. However, she was badly sensitive towards what people felt, their anguish, their happiness ' she would feel a gush of some profoundly weird complacency regulate through her whenever she'd find happy people around. And for obvious reasons, when in need ' Kesha was the first person to come to the rescue.

 

Time and again, she would realize she helped people who'd had enough of her preaching, and enough of the advice they never wanted. With all hearty intentions, Kesha would offer people her help but it wouldn't do any good to her. Not even them! Not that she only preached and wasn't matured enough to; people would just misunderstand her overly concerned behavior which would be received by them in utter amazement. She'd lost enough in life, earned enough and learned enough! She was not even quarters a century old and hence, her deep-rooted self came about as a shocker.

 

Days passed by, but the multi-facet girl chose to remain in her skin and not shed her inhibition. Pent up all her feelings inside and not react, though all the tears gushed out, all the frustration made her crumble zillion of papers as the night acted onto her sinisterly. As the dusky sky took over and the sun in plans to set down, her vigor to gain knowledge and zeal to be the leader would vanish! Her soulless bitch-like attitude would take the back seat, and she would let in the true her. At least she believed, that was her in real. She was herself when not around anybody.

 

She reflected on the days she would go around dreaming and drooling about the TV and holly and bolly hunks, the days she would spend in abode of cherishment, accordance and positive vibes. She remembered how life had become to her in those days, how difficult was bailing herself out of trauma was for a twelve-year old girl. How dreadful it was to live in pain, live an alien life ' for she, was living no twelve-year old's lifestyle.

 

Even though the recollection shattered her heart into uncountable tiny fragments, even though it rifted her and peace apart again ' she sensed a feeling of pride and maturity beneath. She took pride in what she was, and she was a more mature individual now.

 

Lying in bed, as she wrote to her diary, she ended up writing a few lines at the bottom ' a few lines that triggered the pain and emotion again, though left her with a feeling of contentment and an idea of what is to be done. As a sigh of relief passed through her long pursed lips, she spoke out:

 

After an eternity of melancholy,

A saga of merry begins,

 

After enough wound is caused,

An entity to heal it steps in,

 

After you're left devastated,

A new hope slowly makes its way through the dark,

 

After you're left vulnerable,

A protective shield starts clinging on to you,

 

After wanting to be left alone,

A feeling of being wanted creeps in,

 

After you're left lifeless,

A new "you" starts growing inside,

 

After being left alone in the dark,

A hand is offered to be held onto,

 

After fear makes room inside,

An angel is sent who protects you from the worldly harms,

 

After an eternity of melancholy,

A saga of merry begins!

Edited by -Kanky- - 27 October 2010 at 12:07pm

[Edited]

I am so really really really sorry for the late reply Kanky
Here goes:

I love your style of writing OS's,
the way you weave the story,
and the way you associated a poem with it(completely loved it )

Don't ever forget to PM me whenever you write anything at all,
I ll be always glad to read it,

and yes,Loved ur blog title,

But one suggestion,if you don't mind,

Please make the appearance of the blog more attractive,
(I guess you might be working on it)
or I would rather say,
It should reflect your personality
 
Another suggest :
In Hindustan Times,there is a small column of Meenakshi Madhavan's,
and its called Blog Improvements,do follow it,its awesome...

Love,

Mugdha

Loved Specially the below para and the lines below it:

Lying in bed, as she wrote to her diary, she ended up writing a few lines at the bottom ' a few lines that triggered the pain and emotion again, though left her with a feeling of contentment and an idea of what is to be done. As a sigh of relief passed through her long pursed lips, she spoke out:

 

After wanting to be left alone,

A feeling of being wanted creeps in,

 

After you're left lifeless,

A new "you" starts growing inside,

 

Edited by cutemug - 29 October 2010 at 12:59pm

Kanky,
Its beautifully written..i surely cannot write the way you have done, with intriguing words and beautiful framings....... but if you dont mind, I wud like to suggest something.... ...i have a doubt that your writing wud not be able connect with normal audience. As you mentioned, your dilemma reflects your writting. I cud see that you had a lot in your mind and then midway, your writing got diverted. Specially after the corridor reading event where the book fell off Kesha's hand.
On the other hand, your writing was surely captivating coz it provoked the serene side of me to keep reading further!
I am sure you shall turn out to be a great writer if your approach gets a lil more systematic..
all said, I adore the way you frame your statements...gr8 job..
sorry about the ranting, i guess I got a lil carried away!

Love,
Pri

wow im soooooooooo impressed with ur writin yar....
super awesome.... really enjoyed it plsssss write more & pm me


Edited by NaDzGirl - 29 October 2010 at 10:19am

o wow

awesoem updatte

hey dear superb OS loved it and thanks for pm keep it up 

Kankshita ... you brought me in tears ... that was so real, i won't say it was beautiful but i would definitely say that it was heart-piercing .... it crushed me completely .... you have done wonders with words .... i don't have enough words to describe how i felt after reading this ....