An Exaggerated Note:

The exaggerated ‘night hours’ would darken its shade with every passing moment and often give a ‘never gonna end’ feeling…its not that I do not appreciate darkness, but then I doubt if it’s healthy.

The exaggerated ‘dawn’ would dawn in so early that a feeling of being deprived of good sleep would disturbingly linger in my mind for hours.

The exaggerated ‘smile’ I would flaunt would readily be like the waterproof- dustproof make-up that I never wear, to effectively cover up the wrinkles of emotions that I feel you must never see. Trust me you may even possibly fall in love with that smile. But you better not. Those intense smiles are pretty deceptive.

The exaggerated ‘eyes’ that you may never get to see in its nakedness have decided not to let you know what it could reflect otherwise.

The exaggerated ‘other sense organs’ would actively and sensibly go ‘numb’ when you would try your best to reach out- with amusing or abusive gestures. Believe me; what you would deliver (good or bad) would mostly go unheard-unreciprocated.

The exaggerated ‘long forgotten love’ would somehow disturbingly manage to pop up and peep inside the mind and deliver fragments of creation that might be or might not be jotted down in words, thus losing its fragmented existence…never to be remembered again.

The exaggerated ‘sweet dreams’ would always offer heartaches, more intense and scary than any nightmare would ever have the potential to offer.

The exaggerated ‘will power’ would force me to forget you by reminding me- ‘you’ are the one to be forgotten.

The exaggerated ‘heart beat’ that had been determined never to beat for the certain ‘you’ ever again, would arrogantly start beating harder, with may be just a glimpse of your smile, or just a passing by through your path.

The exaggerated ‘heart’ would break again by just remembering some not-to-be-remembered good days…as if ‘breaking’ is its most desired passion. Do trust me; I still do not understand this stupid heart’s story.

The exaggerated ‘pain’ in that heart would be so effective a cure to the other physical pains…coz’ when the two be compared, the heartaches would always win over.

The exaggerated ‘life’ would never wait a while to give rest to the respiratory organ, no matter how desperately you wish or plead it to make a halt.

The ‘exaggerated note’ would have never stopped from developing, if the watch didn’t show its time to go home.