The Gust of Wind


Today, at 6.30am in the morning I heard someone passing by my house, humming a folk tune similar to a lullaby my grandmother used to sing to me when I was little.
The voice of that person was somehow familiar to me yet confusing…. as it sounded like a voice coming from an elderly woman or a ten year old child.
It woke me up, still sleepy and half conscious I tried to make sense of it, believing that it was a dream I listened to it anxiously with a pinch of fear for good one minute,
but then it had been gradually eaten by silence.
What was it???
Was it a nostalgic lucid dream???
Was it a person lost in the rain and gust of wind???


The Four Chairs


Imagine to be a beautiful chair wrapped in a velvety, silky ribbon surrounded by two other chairs resembling you, and there is a fourth chair not as pretty as you, it has some flaws- its legs have been partially eaten by borers, its top is cracked, moulded and covered in a thick layer of dust.
None of the chairs want to be near that monstrous piece of wood but they are forced to do it so. They despise the fact that something can have defects, or any sort of disfigurement, that is why they don’t waste their time making the existence of the faulty chair burning poignant hell. The cracked furniture puts on a brave face, making an effort to get along with its companions, embracing the whole situation, treating it is as a challenge. As you may have expected, its bravery and so called optimism fades away leaving a blemished chair lonely, unwanted, hurt and unloved. It desperately craves a change but its to exhausted to begin a new and unknown journey, therefore
it commits suicide leaving all of its written notes, thoughts and drawn art behind it.
The three remaining chairs wake up finding pieces of their mate scattered over the attic. They call for its removal, admire its artwork, contemplate for a short while and move on with their pitiful lives trying to find another victim.
It could have ended up differently.

The beginning


The new beginning

Dear Life,

I am going to begin my letter with asking you a very standard question – How are you?

Are you fine ? If your answer is positive I am glad about it…

As you may have known already hope goes away when you realise that nothing is going to change for the better, and you constantly fail crumbling into pieces slowly turning into forgotten pebbles.

My fate is “twisted”, and my so-called self belief is being devoured by anger with added pinch o f annoyance.

My beloved Life,  I am scared of leaving you and failing into arms of tempting death, but at the same time I am craving it due to my pitiful existence, I want peace… If there is any after…. Another huge uncertainty.

My plans are shattered, my dreams expired, crumpled up and thrown away thanks to human creatures who enjoys assigning identities to people who are slightly dissimilar to them, because of that, dear Life, I have got one big question to ask you:

Why are the human beings scared of diversity???

Even though I am very disappointed and heart – scarred – broken, I still have not given up. I want to make a difference by being myself and not acting as a contorted puppet in the modern society.


A soul trapped in the so-called flesh