The broken magic

A shooting star is what I look for, every night with each blink, peeking through the window of my balcony. In a whiz, the curtain curls into the window pane, and I see all the stars broken down into the jiffy. Could these magically broken stars bring back the magic I am looking for?

Broken promises, broken dreams, broken passions, lost inspiration are enough hashtags for a complete story. A story, which makes me complete, defined and told in thousand songs. Yet I recon a happy ending like any other fairy tale. May be there is a magic which does exist, to overturn my universe once upside down again. Yes there is magic!! I believed in it. I lived with it for seven long years. Yes there is magic in songs of love, lullabies of ocean apart. There is magic in the fragrance of slender neck; which melts me like a scoop of ice-cream.

I have to keep looking towards the vast sky, twinkling at me. It brings joy to me. A hope undefined. A certainty beyond the life. Sometimes I forget to blink, sometimes I freeze when the cold breeze touches my skin, sometimes I feel the touch of earth and sometimes it’s you.  No it’s not a hallucination. It’s a magic I believed in. It’s a magic I should believe in.


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