Poetry, Quill

Uncertainty

I’m certain I’m there,
Though I don’t know for sure,
And perhaps I want to believe.

I want to be better,
I tried, I swear,
I tried to never be me.

And that’s what you want,
Oh look here we are,
It was never enough to be me.

Go on then father,
Blessed be thy name,
Go on and make me complete.

Colour your blade,
Bind me in chains,
Slay me or just let me be.

Poetry, Quill

Unspoken

and then there was him,
with his glazed eyes,
he sits and stares
the night sky
wondering “where it all went wrong”
it causes him to scream inside
yet with his face so sweet,
you see nothing but a smile
hiding unspoken words
reciting a poem of his heart.

Poetry, Quill

Rainfall

I sometimes like to walk in the rain,
I find myself being me.

Hundreds of thousands of drops of paint,
What is this freedom I breathe?

And then shhh silence,
No fall anymore.

Penchant for sadness,
Never was I sure.

Finish this wonder,
Be gone, my love.

Bring back my teardrops,
My pearls from above.

Poetry, Quill

Street Number 5

Just beside the corner

Along the turn

Where the sidewalk bent

A narrow path

Of shadows, spaces and similarities

Shadows between spaces

Spaces with similarities

Similarities of differences

Walking-tracing imprint left of silhouettes

Faint trails filling straits of void

And short steps covering their lenghts

Just beside the corners

Where the sidewalk bent

A pave, rather weary

With leaves, life and imprints

Leaves of life

Life amongst imprints

Imprints with verve

Ambling-unearthing the beauty of the silhouttes

Vivid reflection bore rills of tranquility

Thus blest the bends ahead.

Open Letters, Quill

Happy Birthday Eishta

Well, to be honest, I don’t know you much beyond your perfect brush strokes or your sublime sketches, but still, I guess, that’s not a reason good enough to not write this letter, is it?

So imagine videotaping rubbing an entire eraser into those residual spongy fringes it breaks into… And then, rewinding the entire video as a time lapse. Sounds foolish right?

Now imagine, each fringe is one of those little miniscule conversations we have – about art, about ambition, about religion, about suspensions – and everything in between. Then believe, the end of the video, the complete eraser, that represents a perfect alliance. And as for the time lapse – that’s life.

Yeah, so, fitting one chat at a time, fringe by fringe, into a seraphic mould aka eraser, I guess that’s the only and also the very essence of this co-artist/worker/acquaintance bond we share.

Looking forward to being lucky enough to the complete the eraser.

Happy Birthday Eishta

Keep creating wonders

Poetry, Quill

Bravehearts In A War

Bravehearts often fall asleep,
With wounds inside their minds,
Yet silently they wash away,
Crimson off their eyes,

War is noble, war is good,
Preach it to a child,
And soon enough all it knows,
Is war torments the kind,

And all you wanted was for men,
To be vicious and vile,
To slay your foe, to be an end,
To all that made one smile,

You wanted war and all was lost,
Beasts kept running wild,
You might’ve won, but at what cost,
Again, I see that child,

Guillotine upon your neck,
A fire in its eyes,
Alas a monster that you made,
Was causing your demise,

“Don’t be scared now, be a man”,
I hear it in my brain,
I’m still afraid and I’ll always be,
But I’ll be a man again,

“Cry like a man”, I’ll tell my child,
For I know those tears are pure,
He’ll be whatever he wants to be,
Of that I will make sure,
I hope he opens up to me,
So those wounds could still be cured,
Oh what a braveheart that must be,
Unafraid to be insecure.

Poetry, Quill

The Woman I Love

Dear Mother
She’s beautiful
A little dark complexion
With beautifully highlighted features
Her arms exposing the stories of her life,
And oh her words, the way they make me smile.
She’s everything you said my life partner should be
Mother, She’s everything I need.

Dear mother,
I am scared
I do not really know how you would feel
Or react perhaps, when the love of my life would you meet.

But didn’t you always tell me that she’s a safe place?
When at the age of 12 you
taught me the difference between a male and a female.
When a ‘girl’ friend meant ‘perfect’
And a ‘guy’ friend meant ‘slut’
Then why today when I am in love with a girl,
Am I looked down upon?
Why is it not okay?

When at the age of 20, it was suddenly okay to bring women inside my bedroom
But not men. . .
Then why when today I want to bring her home,
Is it not okay?

When in 7th standard I walked my way back from school to home,
Were you not the one who said ‘Baby, befriend
girls and do not let any guy travel the distance with you’
Then why when today I want to walk
the aisle of my life with her,
Is it not okay???? You are deemed ‘the perfect girl’ your entire life
for you did exactly what they said.
What’s that? You may ask
Well, for starters you had around You more of females
And less of these men they called ‘beast’
Main course had these dishes with extra flowing repellant behaviour towards male friends
And the delicious desert offered you the opportunity to finally be semi-naked inside your bedroom with your girl-friends,
Then why today when you want that one girl around for the rest of your life,
Is it not okay?

When sharing the same lady’s room is the rule,
When listening to ‘Hey I like your bra’ is the ultimate goal
Then why today when my body aches to touch her, to love her
Is it a sin?
Why is it not Okay?

Dear society,
Love is boundless
Love is the purest form of life
Then why my love is not loving?
Why I have limits, laws claiming me
Holding me in shackles
Why the same girl everyone loved,
The same girl termed pure
Is now a disgrace. . .

Open Letters, Quill

Happy Birthday Nitesh!

Dear fufu,

This letter- it could have been another birthday tribute to you for teaching me everything that you did. For making me familiar with the ups and downs of a website, for making me acquainted to the technical aspects of both laptops and life… But this letter- it wouldn’t be one of those.

Today, I don’t want to acknowledge everything that you did for me but I want you to take a moment and appreciate everything you did for yourself.

Maybe it’s because of you that I find it funny as to how people say support is necessary to accomplish any considerable thing in life. For you, you accomplished a good, (beyond good 😉 life itself with the support of no one but your own enormous will power.

I read it somewhere, “Fast success builds ego, slow success builds character.” And today, I want you to give yourself a pat on the back for the man you carved yourself into.

If a person ever is asked to create a perfect human, then for sure you wouldn’t be half as similar to what he’ll be creating.
But I am more than sure that whenever a person, someone who knows you, would be questioned to name the most ideal man he has met, he wouldn’t think of anyone other than you.

And that is the beauty of you. You’re a set distinguished flaws and distinctive strengths , a set far from ordinary yet relatable to all, a set you can always look up to yet a set that never would look down upon. A set too simple to be put into words, yet a set too complex to be cherished alone.

Happy Birthday Nitesh.

Quill

Unsaid Feelings //

// sometimes you can look like you’re laughing and having fun, but deep down your whole chest hurts trying to keep up the facade. each forced laugh tears you a little from the inside, and you forcefully bite your lip to stop the tears from flowing. the emptiness weighs you down and as you tumble into oblivion, you watch your whole life unbecoming right in front of you. you try to escape but your body seems to have lost all its functioning. you stare hard into the mirror, hoping for any explanation whatsoever. you look at moving buses and children laughing and couples fighting, but all you are is a spectator. all you feel is this numbing sensation that is continuously buzzing in your head. you can’t escape it. it is a part of you now. it is you. you are the disjointed and disintegrating pieces of what was once a functioning human. //

Poetry, Quill

Phoenix

I am shoved under,
My opinion is shushed,
My soul, sundered.
Day after day, scorching my existence
Day after day, disdaining my resistants
Worldly affairs might burn me down
Turn me into ash and extol my breakdown but,
I am the PHOENIX and I’ll rise from the ground.
I am the PHOENIX and I’ll rise from the ground.