Melancholy (Fiction) 

​She kept sobbing, shivering, whimpering hard that night. The night, emotions and her life brought her such melancholy that she couldn’t cease herself shedding those piquant tears filled with ineffable dolor and wretchedness. The darkness witnessed her barefaced pain, the quiet walls of room observed her numb state and the fan hung on ceiling examined silently her helplessness. Tears and blatant tears! A sudden memory struck her, how the person who gifted her those tears shamelessly used to hate her grieving at a time. How a single drop of her tears could pierce his heart as a serrated blade of knife does, leaving him shattered. And then reminiscing this, she wiped all of them in a stroke, swallowed the misery and slept.

By Shreya Sharma

I read poems. Sometimes I write poems. And when I am doing nothing, I am sipping coffee.


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