Today, at my bus stop, I saw a girl. I dint really register how she actually looked or what she was wearing. Basically, I just saw her stand there. Thats all.


But the point of disappointment that has caught the weaker portion of my heart is that- she had a bunch of roses in her hand.


She had roses.

For a girl who had been through roller coaster rides of only unrequitted love, it wasnt a pretty good sight you know .

I dont know anything else but this that- that sight simply cut me through too deep. Too deep.

And then …there I stood with a phone in my hand-instead of roses-with 5% battery remaining. I stood there looking at the smoke dance up and down before my eyes. Carrying a handbag with oddly 50 bucks in it. It felt odd.
Like ridiculously , unbearably odd.

I want roses too. I want them. I want to feel special. I want to feel wanted.

I wonder when would I be standing at a bustop with roses in my hand. When would I look at the clouds and smile and not sigh at the dust. When will the day come when I would be driven by the love of a man and not just his lack?


I want roses. Thats all.
The similar ones the girl had.



5 thoughts on “Roses.

  1. have been reading a few posts, I don’t really know what to comment. You obviously have a flair for writing in the way your words flow..i just feel, there’s always something missing..maybe as I read more I’d tell you what it is..

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Itz bit dark but i m laughing for u describe me too bit with your writing thatz how i feel too when see girl with a rose.. And i m loving this blogging here i m finding everyone bit like me.. And about ur writing gal u r blessed with connecting everyone with you through it..

    Liked by 2 people

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