Hell, reserved

It’s been a long since I knocked myself. The doors, my crazy friends missed me, hope so. Which doors?

The doors to the veils inside.

Am I no more evil, or does it reflect the strange enlightenment I saw in front of my eyes? Sometimes the answers which question your life, get resolved and you have not even a slightest hint. I find this funny, so funny that I just breakdown, so gracefully, so unexcitedly, in what- pearls perhaps, grounded low somewhere in the sands. And the task of collecting every piece so as to again form the lesson of life is tough. I somehow miss one pearl or other. What else I am eventually losing upon, I am not sure of!

I had a low phase, one word that comes up is ‘hell’. Hell ! Exaggeration, huh!Have I visited it, really?I am wondering, what does it mean when we say, “its hell out here”.I am wondering why do I say it.I am wondering is it really hell.

How does a real one looks like?

Who lives there?

Is it severely painful to live there?

I search for hell. They say, you have to die to go to a hell or heaven. I ll prefer hell. But how long do I have to wait for this search to bear a path, to the destination I want.

Final destination!

My friend says that I am too obscured. I feel the same about her, in fact about every person I come across.

I believe the only place where every veil, every obscurity will vanish is hell. I have my algorithms to prove it, but all I am waiting is for the time when I ll bring back the eclipsed moon to life, have my answers to the truth of hell.

Heaven is of no use to me!