Darkness

I fell into darkness.

Darkness. There’s so much of it. I dunno where it started. I had come here looking for something, perhaps a red rose. I don’t understand. A distant voice. Somewhere far someone playing a piano, longingly. And here it gets darker, with every inch of fall. Inch? I don’t know the dimensions. It’s never ending. Ridiculous. Just like a desperate shout in the void.

Darkness. I am trying to remember. Feels like a long lost battle. An arrow targeted at an innocent bird. No, I cry. A book with It’s pages riffling so fast I can’t make a word. There’s a shiny door. Though I pull it but can’t get myself out. Helpless. Just like a love song which can never bring back a lost friend.

Darkness. I am not okay. How much I realise I am not made for this place. I am trying to explain but someone has stolen my words. Listen to me please. But I am not speaking. There are roses. And thrones. And blood spilled on my red dress. Ink as well. I don’t understand. I can’t feel my hands. Not my face. But I know I exist because I feel so much pain. I need to get back. To mom. But I am Crestfallen to nowhere. Darkness engulfing me. I will do anything. No, please, no.

Sweats. Heavy breathes. My hands touch my face. Reality.

It’s been just a dream. It’s over. Another is not.

Some people call the other Life.

Winter

How beautiful is winter, with its magnificent snowflakes and christmas lights and fragrance of marshmallows over warmth of campfire. How ruthless is winter, to the begger trembling in rags, the soldier stuck in a war, and to a kid for whom santa never showed up.

Artist

Hush now, love. I am trying to portray you.

They talk of witchcraft, and you are sitting there on a couch- upright, elegant, Under that dim orange light falling on you, casting your classic shadow back on the posh wall.
They talk of witchcraft, and You, the greatest sin, are glittering there, with the Grace of all Gods.

And here I am, with all the curious colors and powerful paintbrushes of world, behind the canvas. Pouring my heart to depict your face. Outlining the lineaments- Strands of the dark wavy hair. The cute nose. The blushing cheeks. Determined arches on them. The agreeably weak chins. Lips; petals of the red rose. Heavy lashes crowning the big eyes-
Ocean blue eyes..
Dreamy, Downturned, Drowning the beholder.
And I am sailing my boat hardest to reach the shore.

But no, I am drowning. Sinking deep down. Into everything. Then. Into nothing. Nothing, but you, but You.

And then, only real thing in world I know is you. The only sound is of your breath. The only movement is the blink of your eyelashes. The only distraction is your upper lip biting the lower..-
And you bursted out in laughter. Your cackle, a Buoyant.

Hush now, Love. I am trying to portray you.

And soon, all the tools have played their best, all the curiosity is calmed. With all my powers, and with all my fate, I can see your face under my fingers. Aesthetic, Authentic, Dynamic. That half way twinkle between smile and laughter.

Love, my love. I feel privileged to portray you.

Here, The world’s ready for a new masterpiece.

The Hope

And what happens
After
the sun sets
the ice melts
a leaf falls
a tear rolls
a string breaks
a dream dies
ink is dropped
a letter is torn
a bubble pops
a breath ends.

After that,

Then again,

the sun rises
the water refracts
a bud is inbred
a smile shines
a voice sings
a dream is redreamt
a story is written
a tale is told
a bubble is formed
a new breath is born.

The Lost Friend

I lost a friendship. A friendship I was looking forward to since the first moment I caught sight of it. A friendship under which I had found refuge after being betrayed in love. A Friendship which I thought would last forever, because, because after all, it was not love.

Yet, after a while, I lost it. Or perhaps, I decided to lose it. Because you, my friend, were too busy celebrating the love you had been rewarded, that you forgot all about the friendship you were gifted. Because despite being your lighthouse, i couldn’t find you in darkness. Because despite being your immediate place of fun and fantasies and sadness and secrets, for me, you were now a place distant and a time so late. Because despite being told that I was a place for your life, I ended up trying to find my place in your life.

And this time I couldn’t run to you like every other time. This time you weren’t the one with whom I could get vulnerable. When I complained, you did unheard. When I expressed, you ignored. I went to you all that way with all those things, but you weren’t even looking. So I went silent raising hells inside. And then came the stupid question; ‘Do you love me?’- you ask. ‘No, idiot, I don’t.’ ‘What for, then?’ And I didn’t know. May be for I wanted you to hit with a hammer and wished you to come back to me just like before. But you never did. Because you think you aren’t gone. But if you aren’t gone, why aren’t you here?

I lost a friendship. And it hurts. It hurts hell. It isn’t the luxurious and proud pain of heartbreak when your lover leaves you and you can cry and scream and blame and talk. It’s the indefinite, undefined dull ache that constantly wrenches your gut, and tears aren’t allowed to fall down. You’re too strong to fight for your friendship, and too weak to compete with their love. You can’t leave but you hate to stay. You can’t stay but you hate to leave. And the saddest part is, your friend is too much occupied to notice whether you are staying or have already left.

I lost a friendship. A friendship I was looking forward to since the first moment I caught sight of it. A friendship I had believed in after losing faith in everything else. A friendship, which I think didn’t last forever, because, because after all, it wasn’t love.

You.

I wrote You.

You, the unarrived, the unknown, the distant, the awaited. You, the object of wonder, the portrait of Love, my fantasized poetry, a mysterious contemporary. You, my love, the One.

You, the scarlet of sunrise, and sometimes, the gray of fog. You, the cold of December, the warmth of coffee. You, the voice of rain , the thunder of storm. You, the dark of dusk, the light of dawn. You, the fight, the friend. You, the absurd, the amazing.

You, the magic of my first kiss, the destination of my last kiss. You, simplifying the strands of my tangled hairs. You, defining the interlocks of our fingers. You, winning my heart, and sometimes, losing it all. You, the imperfect, my perfect.

You, the trouble, the puzzle, the solution, the answer. You, the long sought refuge. You, the hardness of hustle, the delicacy of petal. You, the rare, my obvious. You, the king, my kind.

You, embracing my young, my beauty, my weak, my wrinkles. You, falling for me, you catching me there. You, my dream, wishing of me. You, my pause, waiting for me. You, taking your time, making your way, finally getting here to find out that I had written You.

I wrote this for You.

Letter to the guy best friend

Like after ages, tonight again, I have decided to hide behind the words. So tell me, to rely on those words, which I am writing to you, isn’t this reason enough that you’re my best friend? And, unlike those fabled love tales where my words usually dance, in this letter to let my syllables stumble, isn’t this reason enough that you’re my best friend, and you will hold them somewhere?

So tell me, shall this reason be enough for me to open my heart before you?

Because you see, unlike Love, In our friendship, we have no climaxes, no heights, no moon, no tides. No priorities to be taken, no Heartbeats to be raced. No rains to get wet, No fantasies to full fill. No eternities, no ecstacies. No convergence, thus followed by no intersection. And also, You aren’t my world, and I don’t live in you.

But then, we have got no surface, no shores, no fears, no ends. No moon, but we got all the stars. No Heartbeats, but all the fucking brain cells. No rains, but hurricanes to play. No ecstacies, but the evergreen euphoria. No intersection, and thus followed by no divergence. And also, You are the home, where I don’t live often, but always come back in the end.

So tell me, just because I am not your love, and only your best friend, am I not supposed to miss you much when you are away? Just because I am only your best friend shall I not cry harder when you cry hard? Just because I am only your best friend don’t have I any right to try to grip you harder while you slip faster, from my life? Just because I am only your best friend should i be embarrassed about the fact that I too, sometimes get afraid of being replaced? Just because I am only your best friend does it get awkward to tell that the world seems more beautiful with you, and voided, without you..

So tell me, while I think I might lose you, shall I back off, or shall I call you back once more, with the reason that I am your best friend? Will this reason be enough for you, or will you wait there for the more reasonable love? And- and, will you come back to stay at the pause and never leave my side, again?
Will this reason be enough for you that I am your best friend?

The second heartbreak

And this time
The pain wasn’t proud
wasn’t defined
wasn’t worth telling.
I didn’t grow with this
It didn’t make me sob at nights
I could sleep with this
only, I slept more
to escape some reality.
I didn’t cry,
only, I got quiet.
More quiet.
I got ashamed that I was vulnerable,
Again.
Sad, but more, my bad, my bad.
Thousands of failures,
and still this pain
that I won’t have hope,
Again.

Escape

Sometimes,
When it’s 3am,
& my eyelids are getting heavy,
I Drag myself out of the sleep.
Because even then-
My heart wants to get thrown out
on a piece of paper.
The scribbling sound later made-
pulls me into another dream.

Sometimes,
when there are them,
& I am listening to everyone,
I Drag myself out of the chaos
Because even then-
there are more important voices
waiting to be heard
Inside my head.

Sometimes,
when it’s all okay.
as if it couldn’t have been any better,
I, however, drag myself out of the cheers
Because even then-
There are still some breathes
needed to be taken
in Serenity, in Solitude.