My Ethereal Yarn..

Memories are like your favorite book, you pick it up to get just another look. With a smile you read it again but you know the story, you have been through its all ups, downs and glory. Few chapters you want to revisit  more often, while many others you have deliberately forgotten. You skip pages intentionally as your heart fires as ember, true that some memories are not worth enough to remember. A page got folded un-noticed,  the last time you read it through, And you unfurl it back to its own shape to make it look all new. And while glancing through those treasured lines of that favorite verse once more, engrossed, you hold the book close to your heart while a dried rose drops on the floor. For few seconds, the sudden fragrance of the beautiful moments of the past comes alive, oh dear! the pressed flower has now lost its radiance as it couldn't survive. It reminds you were compelled to keep it away due to its thorns, but, you loved it so much that even today your heart mourn...

The officials visited each house of the town, No one was spared, white, black or brown. They hung a device over the throat which could count phrases per day, This is how they put a check on the number of words you could say.  Few agreed happily, some protested, but everyone had to accept, Noise pollution reached its highest level and this is how check was kept.  One-two-three-four device counted in a line,  The machine beeped when it crossed ninety-nine. Any shout costed five words in a shot, First many days were extremely tough! The babies could not cry their heart out, The mothers couldn't shout, The lovers fall short for words to propose, The old spoke the word as a dose.  The dusky girl who loved chatting all day, Cried and tried but could not find a way.  Then one day when she was almost ran out of her limit, Her granny came in her dream and gave her a surprise visit. She conveyed her pain to Granny but her words were short by ten...