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NOTHINGNOTHING There is so much to see, so much to feel. So much to talk, so much to do. So much to take, so much to give. So much to make, so much to break. So much of so much that makes time scarce. And then there is nothing. Nothing that withholds all the nothings that makes everything. Nothing that subsumes everything we'll ever be. Nothing that consumes everything as it sees. #Hope... #poem#review

"Realist Writes" Realist writes what is pure Pain, sufferings and endure Source of remedy and cure Followed by naive and mature A poet depicts clear picture Of past, present and future Create a sense of secure For all disable and injure ~ Realist Writes #review#realist#poem

"Poets and People" Poets put life in words Pens their magic swords Simple lines leave marks In the dark, bright sparks People are not so simple Faces with sweet dimple Fake smiles on cold masks Alive or dead, no one asks ~ Realist Writes #poem#realist#review

"Poetry" Poetry is not play of words It is universe full of worlds Each word has strong gravity Power to spread the positivity Poetry is sight for blinds A wisdom in rare minds Poetry is voice of dumbs Excitement for all numbs ~ Realist Writes #poem#realist#review

Author's note: I wrote this story as part of a challenge to write suspense-thriller-horror in 1000 words. Guilty Conscience Part 1 The house is empty, the footsteps of passerby on the adjoining road echos hauntingly. Finneas walks with careful steps, his knees shaking like jelly. Then he faces his arch enemy, the door to his study room. Finneas's study room is located in the darkest part of the house, even in the day time there is no natural light here. Finneas stops right outside and looks over his shoulder, his whole being trembling with the fear of unknown. "Relax, you are just overreacting, there's nothing here." He solaces himself and pushes the door only half way through. The darkness inside the room overwhelms him and the courage in him dies, he couldn't tell if he is being coward or careful; afterall, those who are too brave die first in horror movies. He discards the thought and with trembling hands searches for the light switch in the darkness located right beside the gate. He makes it a point to not set a foot inside before light is turned on. He does it with such anxiety as though he has put his hand inside a hungry lion's mouth. He sighs audibly with relief when finally, he reaches the switch he wanted to turn on. His heart still hammering inside his chest he steps inside the room almost reluctantly, he avoids glancing at the mirror for the fear of finding anything around him that he couldn't bear to see. Finally, he starts studying almost simultaneously cursing his parents to have left him alone for a week and they are due to come only after two days. Hours pass, he forgets his fear and immerses himself in studying, the silence, the paranoia, everything is forgotten. He almost falls backwards with his chair on the sound of a loud crack coming from the cupboard that sits beside his table. He holds his heart, racing faster than any F1 car, his lungs contract. With bated breath he looks apprehensively towards the cupboard for a while, no other sound issues. "Old cupboard are like that, it could be a r-rat o-o-o-or could be wood cracking, t-t-that happens with old wood all t-too often" he talks loudly with himself trying to suppress the silence lingering after the loud noise. The lights go out, there is nothing else left to do, his legs shiver and he runs but where!? The door is locked, he bangs on the door, pushes and pulls but it's hopelessly shut. “Going somewhere?" The voice asks him from behind, but how!? He was alone in the room, in the house! He looks behind him, terror clutching at his insides like a fist of steel. His knees give out when he sees a broad figure standing in front of him, the scar on her face glinting like lava in the dark. "Please. I'm sorry," he begs "I didn't know....." his voice trembles. "I begged you same way." #tm#review#shortstory

Trapped- Part 1 The crowd screamed. An uproar rose as though coming from thousands of human frying in hot oils in the dark pitches of hell. Behind the stage Lisa took a few deep breaths. Her knees shaking from the nervousness, her bladder making her take the road to washroom one too many times. The SoFi stadium in Inglewood was huge and it was filled to the max. Lisa took one final breath, put her earpiece in it's place and waited under the stage. She will appear on stage after the opening act was finished. Her mind was entering into a state of maximum concentration, nothing could go wrong today. Little did she know that this was her last performance ever. Her crew queued her, the lift took her on the stage. She was the main act, the uproar from crowd almost brought her to tears, everyone cheered and called out her name. She was living her dream. It didn't take long however for this dream to turn into a nightmare. Halfway through her performance she approached the edge of the stage to get closer to her fans. Her fans pressed hard to get just one touch of her glimmering skin. She walked across, giving her fans a sweeping touch of her hands. It was going smoothly, her hand floated seemlesly over the wave of infinite fingers, unless someone grabbed her hand making her halt her surfing. Being as professional as she was, she continued singing while simultaneously trying to get rid of the hold. When she failed to do it for a few seconds she looked back and froze. The music and back track kept running but she was no longer aware of her surroundings. The walls around her seemed to close, although there were none to begin with. She found herself teleported in a dimly lit small room. The air smelled dank from being caught in for a long time. It was a nauseating mix of smell of canned food, exotic perfumes, unwashed clothes and bedding. In the background the soft music played "locked in your love" it was called. Lisa wrote and sang it. It was a smash hit and soon it climbed to the top of the charts. Lisa remembered how happy she was when she heard about the song's success. She cried tears of joy and did her happy uncaring dance. Anyone who heard it could not help but feel absolutely mesmerized, a review said back then. However, Lisa wasn't mesmerized now. She was sick to stomach of this song that was playing on a loop for days. The voice came from the four speakers that were in the four corners of the room. Lisa tried to reach them often but she was always stopped by the chain in her leg. Her left leg was chained to one leg of the bed. The chain was long enough to let her move about in the room but not long enough to let her reach the door of speakers. All she could do was scream at the walls for deliverance, but the walls filled with her own smiling photos screamed back at her. #review#tm#shortstory

The last time we met The last words you Said were not just words , But bullets in my lungs . These beautiful clouds and cold Wheather , Reminds me of the moments we spent together . Celebrating first Eid in your absence , Makes me guilty for my existence. Scrolling through my WhatsApp these days, feels that life has left me no ways I always felt happy whenever we met , But now , Your name forces me to regret , Your wait compels me to forget , And , even your thoughts pierces my heart. -CH.Irfan. #review #poem #feature

It was 3am back then I was laying on the bed The Mullioned windows were open The stars above in the night were gleaming Suddenly onshore breeze had started I turned off my phone and Started Thinking of a dazzling Lady I was devising a Scenario of me and the graceful Lady The scenario doesn't exist in real But, it gives peace In real It gives me the Inner endearments It gives a feeling that is forthcoming I was fully Shifted to palace with her That place was completely Magical We were creating an album of Our life And in an instant, it started Thundering I Woke up from my pleasant Dream The high wind started, The birds were Moving from one tree to another I closed my Windows Gradually Heavy Downpour started The Dream was left incomplete But I made a Smile And Thanked that period For making me contented in Today's Selfish World. #review #poem #feature

The last time we met The last words you Said were not just words , But bullets in my lungs . These beautiful clouds and cold Wheather , Reminds me of the moments we spent together . Celebrating first Eid in your absence , Makes me guilty for my existence. Scrolling through my WhatsApp these days, feels that life has left me no ways I always felt happy whenever we met , But now , Your name forces me to regret , Your wait compels me to forget , And , even your thoughts pierces my heart. -CH.Irfan. #review #poem #feature

Not a fairy tale Once upon a time……. For a tormented spirit , Points in life line, Swiftly aligned. A chance click online, Brought a change divine, Distress redesigned, Blushing sindoor and happiness entwined, A lush green bride, Ready to soar with her guide, To the lands of Varuna-assi , she climbed, Fiction became reality, Reality turned into doubtful mind, Insidious suspicion whined, Barren bells chimed. What now? Should I decline? Yes -answered logic n reason combine, No -love and faith opine Confused and resigned, Cried the sindoori bride, Mahadev! Where do I sign? Ask your heart n blushing cheeks in a while, Lord replied with a sprinkle of smile, Her desideratum stood by her in resolute trust, Her love and faith flowed in a Zergling rush, Reshaping Barren lands , With lush green vibrant blush , Doubt twirled to a wedding plush. Time upon time … Sindoori Ravi lived happily after forever Together. #RRM #poem #review * sindoori - a hue of red usually seen at sunrise or sunset *sindoor- a red powder worn by a wife , a red tikka offered to hanuman Ji and goddesses *Ravi - Sun , a male common first name * Mahadev - Shiva - god of destruction * Varuna - assi name of two rivers in The state of Uttar Pradesh ,these two rivers have christened the city of Banaras as Varanasi Akash uun in

{Short story} 13/jan/2018 It was supposed to be a normal day, I was supposed to wake up, Watch my reflection in mirror, Question life and live like nothing, As i was combing my hairs, i was questioning my reality, As i was trying to smile at my dad's morning jokes, I was questioning myself. Started walking towards my bus stop for school bus, As i come near and near, The fear of new school new people , Started tearing me apart, When i arrived at the stop, There she was standing, Long black hairs, Turned into ponytail, Pink hair band, school uniform, no lipstick, no eyeliner, just a mark of kaajal on her neck to save her from other people's eyes, All the lies, My heart told me that day… It happend… Love happend For 1 year i never said anything to her, We changed schools, And i still question myself today. What if? What if ive told her, That she had a mark on her neck, due to the pen she was holding in her right hand with a black ring. What would've happend?. #review#asthir#shortstory

{Short story} 13/jan/2018 It was supposed to be a normal day, I was supposed to wake up, Watch my reflection in mirror, Question life and live like nothing, As i was combing my hairs, i was questioning my reality, As i was trying to smile at my dad's morning jokes, I was questioning myself. Started walking towards my bus stop for school bus, As i come near and near, The fear of new school new people , Started tearing me apart, When i arrived at the stop, There she was standing, Long black hairs, Turned into ponytail, Pink hair band, school uniform, no lipstick, no eyeliner, just a mark of kaajal on her neck to save her from other people's eyes, All the lies, My heart told me that day… It happend… Love happend For 1 year i never said anything to her, We changed schools, And i still question myself today. What if? What if ive told her, That she had a mark on her neck, due to the pen she was holding in her right hand with a black ring. What would've happend?. #review#asthir#shortstory