'Two Breaths of Fresh Air' . . . - Page 19

Why, hello K! 🤗

Here.. you give an end to it, to this FF. It wasn't the story or anything else that enticed me, it was your writing and your writing. Bodacious and amazing. So, it doesn't bother me much that you're ending this, we've other of your FFs. Not that I didn't like this one, I loved it. (:

Edited my spot.

Reserved

I'll edit pretty soon. but i've read the two parts..endearing. And especially the last part.

Anyway, i'll be back with my edit.

See you soon. :)

Take Care.

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Edit

^^I didn erase the thing above..i just want to make my comment look a lil longer.

M here, with my edit. Feels good to be bak here, unreserving my post. First and foremost,really sorry for not editing my last post here..i have already told you the reason. It duznt matters then. Does it.?

Anyhow, the update..umm..why did you update 2 parts in one go.? I mean, you could do that separately. It's your wish, i guess. M sad this short story ended..But as we say, all good things come to an end..so did this.

I do not have words to write.. (like the way i do..like describing everything as if "i" am narrating "you" the story) But really, the pain from which the lead suffers..is clear and evident. Of losing both..the teenager and his love.

Felt sad when the girl met with an accident..and unfortunately, died.

And finally you disclosed the name of Mr. Anonymous. Ishaan...hmm..

This was it. The story's finished. Hope that you will write something soon.

Keep in touch. Take Care.

Kankshita,

Don't laugh at me but I thought that last part, Felony was the last part. 😳 However every idiot's path is a silver lined for that reason. It is a circular argument I grant you, for with such low expectations or none even, it isn't that it is silver it just seems shinier to that idiot than all the other shiny things in their domain. You are an idiot due to your expectations and assumptions which are in turn created because you are an idiot.

Benediction.

Your opening lines always stir some emotion within me. I wouldn't say it is an introduction to continuing themes but rather more like air turbulence, expected and yet catching you off guard nonetheless. This one segued nicely from the previous chapter, reminding us where we left him, I mean in the spiritual sense, for as stated above, I had pretty much written him off. 😳 For me this is more resurrection, both spiritually and physically. 😳 As a matter of fact, you do not die when you wish you had and precisely when it is one of your truest lifeblood endeavors I loved the fruitful fruitlessness of this line. As you point out despite our noblest, worthiest intentions and outright determination, nothing is in our hands. I loved the penning of this line. Those opening words, as a matter of fact, almost taunting himself, for then why did he try? As he retorts back at himself, it is steely human conviction that lays to dust all doubts that we can not change, despite a contrary history of days, and days and days. You may say he never learned to accept that @bold next, That evening I had slit my wrist and chosen death but my choice never matters, does it? However we could contend that he learned the most truest lesson, the human spirit conquers all, in the most morbid manner of elucidation. It is different, I grant you that, and thereby it is stark too. Omnia vincit...(yep, sorry don't know the latin for soul.)

I love your phrasing, diminishing hope to adjourn surviving, I have to stop and piece together the sentiments, pushing me towards understanding the character rather than enclosing him into a submissive box. I reminds me that I should give this same time and patience with people in my life. Here, the relinquishing of safety line to life. As I once said to someone in need before,

There are the vicissitudes of life that we all must bear but sometimes life brims over in difficulties and no less. It is only human to weaken against such onslaught; the emotional exhaustion against wave after wave crashing down upon dreams etched upon white shores of child hood. Wave after wave, breathing becomes suffocation, holding on becomes a burden, struggling becomes an obstacle.

There comes a point during drowning when we stop struggling and surrender to an end. 'An end' is never the way to end. Our victories lie in our hard efforts. The means never justify the ends. It is NOT whether you work hard or hardly; the results that matter. For in truth it is that the results find their roots and fruits within the journey there. Hold on just a while longer, this wave, this tide will pass. I can not guarantee that there will be a calm blue ocean after that. All I can guarantee is that there will undoubtedly be more waves to follow. All I can do is give you time to catch your breath, locate your surf board so that you may ride the wave to the shore where your childhood dreams may finally find rest.

I understand why he did it and NOW I understand why you wrote for him two breaths of fresh air. He was drowning, so that first breathe is survival whilst the second is feeling life again. Which girl is which depends upon your viewpoint, which I am going to keep close to my heart.

Again, wonderful phrasing,Fluid ran patrols across my cheeks & Life was tediously respiring victory. I perspired the lifeless hallows out of me It does seem like those feelings flow in and out, through our permeable soul. However do we repugn it or does it seep out unspoilt?

Again that wonderful Kankshita handbrake turn, Their silence was insanely wrathful, indeed nobody blamed me.Setting up the straight course then turning upon the slightest curve so that we bend upon a corner! Nicely done!

Those nuances that illuminate human intricacies. my parents entitled themselves to the blame. Entitlement to despair and its associates, for it binds them to a formal bond nonetheless. It says we are your parents, regardless. Very poignantly done.

my near death exploitation & my prodigal issues of guilt and survival. Those wonderful phrasing indicating in a wondrous way the nature of his heart. Here, his guilt of being centre of attention he would prefer disregard, his humbleness at thinking it exploiting a sacred thing for an unintended personal gain. I loved the use of prodigal for it implies the end of a life, that he returns to amends after years, era or a lifetime of wanton ways. Him? A boy who has never wanted anything except survival. Just heart wrenching. You know I had fallen for him a while back, but now it is cemented. I love him. 😳 NOT to be mistaken for being in love with him. Then you bring forth my other love from this piece and layer this chapter in her quirky adorable manner, She delivered to me every swear word in her knowledge and did not bother to stop crying. 😆Really cute. 😳

I am not emotive but I happen to know many who are, and that makes me harmonize with the fundamental that to be able to express yourselves, be it your accordance with life in the formulation of a smile or your disappointments in the formulation of tears, you ought to have the audacity, essentially in bulk. She had it, always did. My favourite line of this chapter. Just insightful! ⭐️⭐️⭐️

I had all the attention I liked, I know that today. That self slur suffused in poignant pity. Wonderfully done. Those lines that layer on in intensity, burning us whilst warming him. this was that good old gesture I longed for when I was deprived of it in my young and crisp days, my juvenile days & this really cute moment, and also let her pinch my destroyed arm just above the bandages while mostly my visitors either waved at me...

Kankshita, I was surprised at this resurrection but I take full responsibility for the startled idiocy, but I must say, I liked it very much. Wonderfully written. With much love, Sabah

Partition.

That wonderful first line, I ceased to comprehend the meaning of normal. True, everything is relative and thereby normal is very much subjective and not to be understood by consensus.

My brains adjourned for the day and went strolling when I heard of what normal meant to people, I was unclearly the ambit, like the edge of a planet that hardly anybody knew ever existed. Wonderful sentence, as to be expected. 😳 @bold, I loved the theme of business of the strict maintenance of laws in enclosed courts being ousted in favour of outdoors ambling. @U, the edge which seemingly should be a straight line but wisdom has taught us that it is curved, like our crooked hearts that turn from light to dark, and hopefully back again. So that this phrase, that they couldn't fall off my edge implies the truth whilst implicating him too.

I loved the juxtapositions of two breaths, and the impossibility of co-ordinating two horizons within one turn of his world. Sadly, I still failed to reckon sense out of my statement that asserted I would marry both of them if I could

rather than the mistress I loved Subtly clever.

One, I had parted ideas of life and death, and was positive on the latter. Two, I knew the difference between beloved and companion. I wanted beloved, and companion just happened! The title is thoughtful for from it stems hope. Although partitions and partings connote separations, maybe even permanent, parting stems from our own actions whereas partitions seem like environmentally caused, EVEN if that environment is our own soul.

Excellently elucidated. A pleasure to read as always. With sincere love, Sabah

Cessation,

My piles of half-truths, false hope and unjustly aspirations were uncluttered. The entangled lines that our hearts can easily follow and make sense of without resorting to asking the mind for directions and using its visceral compass, so to speak.

Their reflections in the family-size mirror of our living room had started to appear rueful to me, as though the reflections protruding out of my father and mother pitied them for having me. Beautifully written and a wonderful imagery.

and they started to leave, one after the other. Life was going to initiate a new phase for them and not me, I knew that already. I loved the manner you flow from his tangible reality to the intangible effects. Seamlessly woven.

Yes, she died before me. I loved this intricate twist. Life is such we fear those things that we assume will happen and get blindsided by things our thoughts never aspire to thinking. We can not live our lives upon probabilities, as I once said before,
Although people tell me that certain things are impossible, improbable, that certain things are eventual, inevitable; that there is a 10% chance of this happening and a 90% chance of that happening. However I have never lived my life upon probabilities that may never happen, nor submitted to the implausibility of impossibilities. The truth is things are either going to happen OR they will not. I expect the possible as much as the impossible; I expect nothing and hope for everything.

It is Schrodinger's cat upon his ninth life.

I did it, I was halfway at peace when late in the night, my half-asleep parents embraced me and I squeezed on my mother's side of the bed for a nap, my last nap in a home-bed. This was a beautiful moment, generously described for a balm for all of us. I loved the manner he had fully accepted them as his parents no regard for others' claims in this respect. Beautifully done.

The urgency of if not forget me because I did not want her to, which he hesitates upon. Beautiful. Stupidly, I summed my so-called endeavor into three words ' I love you. The need for his pure, against all odds sentiment to be remembered irrelevant of him. Truly noble. I loved the style of the line, crazy in love with her, so stupidity befitting the sentiment. Upon a tangent the vastness of love which is beyond comprehension and yet contained within three words. Lovely. 😳

She wasn't petrified, she was growing. Beautiful culmination of an excellent paragraph.

I loved, JUST loved that end note, like all seemingly insignificant things that upon further ponderance will rock your world. No life comes into this world without affecting, even if infecting another. Life is about interaction not independence; procreation is not only producing but parenting. His short life belonged to this world, for he could not merely be in it, try as he might. A weak heart that stirred many souls. A stranger who belonged to four lives, a son, a lover and a friend. Looking past the finality of forms and through to the epic nature of love that binds them all to forever.

Cessation followed by Ishaan. In that stillness of the blackest part of the night, the sun begins to emerge.

Beautifully told and lingers on. Exquisite piece of work. ⭐️⭐️⭐️With much love, Sabah.

Since I loved your OS so much, I stalkerified you to find more of your work..hope you dont mind 😆 The first few lines are very interesting...will catch up on all of it by the weekend, and comment

Hey kanks
read the 2nd 3rd and 4 th chapters...when i read the 1st part i thought that it was about a girl...well i am glad that its from a guys pov bcoz i like reading stuffs from guys pov...
coming to the parts this boy seems to be attracted towards pain *strange*...i loved the girl's character...she is super cool...so he has already kind of fallen for her n she is avoiding him...brilliantly written.,...will read the rest soon :)