|Life is just an illusion. But you my dear friend, are the magician.|
The night is almost going off to sleep. The dawn is almost about to arrive, the brightness of the sun and the day is about to deviate the nocturnal souls from their active world of thoughts, slowly putting them off to sleep, playing the memories as a lullaby. The stars fade away into the horizon, deep into the vast and empty sky. The clouds hover above me, moulding themselves into shapes, too vague and bizzare at times. Clouds that are all shades of red, yellow and orange, and all the shades of the spectrum combined as they fade out to unite into a colorless shade that has all the colors residing inside it. White.
The car that I'm seated in whizzes past the rocketing high pine trees that ev...
I sit in the backyard as the terrestrial bodies, unimaginable though finite distance away from me illuminate the dull and dark sky pretending of partying and being sloshed on memories. The moon has travelled miles, southwards in a couple of days. Away from the West where I could see it without having to turn my face and stress my aching and tired muscles. As if trying to distance itself from the strong attractive pull of the lit mountains that speak of failed attempts of drenching themselves in the soothing light of the wrinkled and scarred body.
I don't really think they're just craters or rather wrinkles or even scars on it's pretty skin as we'd call them. They're wounds. Burns. Bruises. ...
Expressing love is one of the most petrifying thing to do. But at times, what's difficult is to accept that expressed love. Fortunate are the people who get to know about the souls which love them in a world of unconfessed and suppressed emotions.
All of us are fighting a war everyday. Surviving the battle. With the wounds and the bruises residing on our tired and decaying skins. The scars on the dead skins, like the memories, reminding us of all of it.
And still, you're the one person I would want to see when I've lost the war, lived the battle. My last memory of the last breath be your gaze struck against mine.
Trapped in a mirror, breathing in a parallel universe, living in an undiscovered, lost dimension, I saw reality staring at me. The scars inflicted on the soft and delicate tissues looked beautiful. The fresh wounds had remnants of love, with the fragrance that made me feel euphoric.
I sat naked, my soul waiting to be seen, be felt and seduced.
I was in a world where lies brought out truths. Where hearts just loved. Where minds were numb. Where time could come to a standstill upon will. A moment could be lived till eternity striked in, and infinity was a limit.
Hearts here breathed, the blooming flowers talked, the moon smiled and shared the secrets, the stars rested on my hands, sharing thei...
Insomnia shook hands with me. The bruised, pale, old hands. The hands of agony. It lead the way to the balcony as it held my hand and a cup of black coffee rested in the other.
Under the moonlit sky, it just left me, until I realised I had a shadow in the dark as well! That shadow was insomnia. Staring right back at me, piercing through the skin that covered me, into a hollow body and talking to my soul. The sound reverberated and shook the delicate tissues of my heart to make me anxious. I was just a mannequin, a muppet.
My hazel eyes were blithering now as the stars and the might moon tried finding a way through the dilated pupils to lighten up my soul. Unfortunately, they failed. But I h...
Love and memories are like stories. Short stories. Every word, a part of an aesthetic poem that pierces through the thin layer of wounded skin, covering the nutshell you've built around your very own self.
Stories that are monotonous, that reside inside you, every word of the poem you know by heart, as if it's a tattoo inscribed by the ink of love in the delicate tissues of your heart but still love it so much that keep you reading it over and over again. A perpetual cycle that has edges which bleed but you still can't break.
Stuck in the labyrinth of complexities, we usually tend to miss the roots or rather forget them altogether. Just like heartbreak makes you forget what love feels like. ...
Your memory looks so like you.
Your memory is a world in itself, a world of unrequited love. A world of incomplete stories. Of shattered hearts and dreams.
A world that requires no breaths, no skies but just a visit to elate you.
Where the birds happily flap their wings to kiss the moon, even when it hides behind an eclipse, distancing itself from love.
Your words feel so like you. The soft touches of those words on my heart.
I long to lose myself in this world where the drought hit skins are flooded with my tears. A world where I still send you messages, just by a wandering pigeon this time. Every word that's saved from being burnt by the scorching heat of the sun but still kissing the clo...
Meet me someday after an eternity, like the dawn kisses the dark horizon to pull it out of the darkness. I'll gently kiss you like the silent breezes that played with your hair, feeling you like a lucky warmest breeze from an ocean of longing on a freezing December night.
Pour your heart out to me in a glass of rum and honey, as I down it with our memories as warm as the rum and sweeter than the latter.
Let me listen to your melancholic voice for just once, forever. Let me drown in your ecstatic smile for once, till I breathe my last.
Let me embrace you in my arms for once, till my eyes close.
Let me live once again. Let me breathe you, again for one last time.
Tears as an emerald,
Make their way
Through a perfectly sculpted face.
Originating from, flooding the eyes,
The lips, curved into a plastered smile, forever.
Tears, that comprise of pain and sadness,
Rewinding memories in the least possible particle of the universe.
The saline droplets flew.
A passerby stopped,
And wiped those teardrops.
For he stood in a world
A world of hearts
A world where breaths froze
A world where a touch was evenly felt.
A world that did exist,
Away from a real universe,
A world if thoughts.
Where a statue stood.
A statue wept,
A statue sobbed,
A statue cried.
Where stone hearted humans laughed,
He walked through the silent, empty corridors, scared to even see his own shadows, for he had led a life of emptiness with loneliness greeting him and hugging him tight every moment. He wasn't just lonely, he was alone too!
The sun was setting and he felt relieved, the blood finally rushing into his veins. His heart, created chaos in a soul trapped in his skin. The sound of the heartbeats that were unfelt was still audible in his ears that hadn't heard a word, a melody, since seasons. Since ages. For he could never garner enough words to do justice with all the thoughts that drenched his empty mind and isolated heart.
A life of isolation was what he was acquainted to, abandoned by the brok...
I wrung out my heart,
To push you out of it.
The blood of love
Tasted like your chapped lips.
The soft touch,
The redness in the color.
Your fragrance surrounded me,
The blood smelled of you.
As it flew, and carved it's path
To find a way, and achieve solace in you.
I kneaded out my heart
As it screamed in torment,
The faint voices
Searched for words.
To reside in hearts,
That would be broken before scrunched.
A heart mangled again,
A million pieces lay crumpled.
The sight of which,
Unseen, unfelt, unheard.
In the silent sobs,
The translucent tears,
Disappearing as they ran
Through red cheeks,
And wrinkled skins.
Red, they say, is the color of love,
Red, I saw, was the color of pain, an...
I look up at the empty, dark sky filled with nothingness in an attempt to stargaze as my sight fell at a tiny star and for a moment the curvature of the huge yet tiny planet that I inhibited, ceased to exist. The radiance of the star that stared at me and looked right through me was surreal. For a moment, the distance didn't matter, for a moment, everything around just vanished. And for an eternal moment it was just the two of us. The star and me. Under a moonlit sky. Sharing our silene, communicating in silence.
Science says when two people stare at each other right in the eye, their heartbeats get synchronised. And well that's exactly what happened when my heratbeats matched their foots...
We were two people.
Walking on the same path.
But heading towards two different destinations.
Ways couldn't be parted and I reached my destination.
Little did I know, you were my eternal point.
Not ready to provide me with a safe haven.
He was an optimist,
And turned into an introvert.
He was a realist,
He never showed he was hurt.
They said ‘Life is a straight road’
But his life took many sharp turns.
He recalled the moments,
And his heart used to burn.
He was shattered,
Broken into pieces,
It was all that mattered,
And when it was gone,
His life seized…
He swam in the ocean of worries,
He was torn,
When he hurried.
He had a void inside,
Craving to be filled,
His feelings he used to hide,
The feeling of introvism was instilled.
No-one accompanied him when he smiled,
No-one consoled him when he cried.
No-one hugged him when he was tense,
He thought his past was better
Than his present…
He lived in the dark,
Light of hope wa...
In the tiny raindrops I reside,
Kissing you gently every rain.
I slowly become saline,
Achieving solace in the ocean
Of our memories.
A saline droplet
Lost in our thoughts.
In a huge colony
Lived a beauty
Covered in a veil.
Of misfortune and broken hopes.
Of concealed facts
And hidden truths.
With a smile
With a heart
And a soul
All hidden behind a veil.
Just her eyes escaped the labyrinth
Gazing at the mendacious world.
The pain unfelt
The beauty unseen.
Her agony not talked about,
Her identity buried.
Ready to sacrifice herself,
In the angst,
Of perplexed life she lead.
Unaware of her allurement,
The whole kingdom breathed.
The rulers waited.
Before anyone could realise,
The ordeal ended.
The beauty set ablaze,...
Listen to the roars of the mighty clouds
I'm a warrior of life
Listen to those droplets carrying the messages
As I speak of mine,
'The manual of warrior of light.'
From a star of a breath
To a constellation of lives.
Getting too close
To never letting go
To living those memories.
Giving hearts, loving.
To breaking hearts, and being broken.
Walking into her arms
To walking away from her.
Loving her at first sight
To never wanting to see her again.
From an acquaintance,
To never knowing each other.
From the closest of friends,
To being strangers, all over again.
From a moment with your thoughts
To an eternity of loneliness.
From the closeness of our hearts
To the endless, infinite distance between our souls.
I contemplate life.
I wasn't alone, but yes, I was lonely.
There she was. Standing in front of me, running towards me like a hurricane approaches a home devoid of life to envelope me as she hugged me tight. The tightest I'd ever witnessed a human exerting a force on the other half. It wasn't sensual but soothing, calming in all the ways a life could describe. And she bled. She bled furiously. Bled of love, of care, of all the times we'd missed out on. She bled passionately without any pain, any care for she had found a haven, a safehouse in me. She was the storm that shook me forever. And in her blood, I found the rarest of solace to breath my last. In her touch I found a universe I wanted to lose myself in.
Unaware of his love for her, she talked to him from dusk to dawn. "Goodbye." , he said once before hanging up.
" Dont ever say goobye, we say that when we know we're never ever going to meet again, to be together again or drown in each other's melancholic voice again."
Years later, as she came to see him with her husband as he lay on his deathbed, in cancer's embrace, she finally said Goodbye.
"Don't ever say Goodbye. we say it when we know we're never going to meet again. I always wanted to tell you, I love you but I never could. I love you. Amd we'll meet again , someday. In another birth. To be together and never be parted. Someday, never. I love you." Were the last words he said before h...
Amidst all the chaos,
Sat a human.
Different from others,
Gifting words to unexplainable thoughts.
A writer sat in the lonely streets,
Penning down the miseries.
With emotions flowing on the pale yellow pages
Sat a human
Different from others.
Writing down the tale
Of a withering house
That once blossomed with happiness.
Still lay under a moonlit sky
In the warmth of a million stars
Surrounded by the silence of the hills
With the loneliness that hovered around
Before enveloping it,
In the lap of a dozen souls.
Each inhabitant had tales to be told
Seen by the old, ageing walls.
Each soul shattering
With different intensities.
Each human burying
Under different atrocities.
With eyes that wept
What if the sun is actually mortal, takes birth every morning and dies every night after having shed itself and extinguished just to be replaced by the pretty moon so that its absence goes unsuspected and unnoticed?
What if the stars shed themselves and become the rustling, dried up leaves every morning just to be up in the sky every night? What if the tiny raindrops that drench our drought hit skins are the stars falling from the universe to acquaint themselves to the alien human touch just to sublimate every night, be embedded in the sky and glow all over again?
Silence is a language in itself, for those who understand it. A language in which the terrestrial bodies converse and cry out the...
There she stood. A human I felt alien for her eyes as deep as the deepest ocean of love, calling me, attracting me to drown in them happily.
She looked like Sugar and coffee. Burnt, broken, sour yet sweet. Her lips as captivating as the moonlit sky before dooomsday hit. One to be seen for once, and remembered, cherished forever.
There she stood, inches away from me as I fell for her even harder.
Love at first sight?
It was love at first meet, first mention, first fragrance as I held her in my arms forever.
Meet me someday, under a colorless rainbow, with the universe illuminated by the cold stares of those warmly gleaming eyes. And the scorching raindrops drenching our shivering souls, trying to calm them down.
With our crawling heartbeats and cracked dreams achieving solace in each others presence.
With our wrinkled skins embracing each others infant veins with a gentle touch of affection.
Meet me someday, with our ceased breaths waiting to inhale each others love. Our dried lips being satiated and drowned in the mention of each others name.
Meet me someday, under a blanket, a cloud of the feeling called 'love'.
To never be parted again.
Behind two closed eyes, two pupils dilated as your memories flashed in front of them, in utter darkness, like a saga, a prose being depicted as beautifully as poetry that heals the chapped eyes by the warmth of the moments spent with you.
Your face, your soul, your heart, your warmth, the sensation of your touch being a captor to hold me captive, conjure indent yet remembered, soothing memories that euphorically put me to sleep with a smile on my face.
The infernal nightmares blown away with the cacophonies of the haunting times, all put to rest by your melodious voice, like a conceit.
The two pupils oscillate in the lap of those eyelashes as if trying to be at peace, synchronizing their m...
A poem lay written in front of me. The words lay on the pale yellow page, deceased.
The beauty of the poem unseen, unfelt altogether as the words flooded the page with emotions, with their silent voices too volatile, becoming tiny vapors of existence in the air that was devoid of fragrances.
Each alphabet of the poem lay entwined with others, weaving an unsaid thought as they bled of love from the heart of the writer as the emotions, unable to clot, dripped down those strings. The salty water which apparently was a teardrop that had trickled down the cracked skin and red cheeks before splashing on the paper, had kissed the blotted ink of time to leave its mark. To scream of the intense heartb...
Trying to run away from love, little do we realize, it's a perpetual cycle. Love chases us when we're getting rid of it and we find ourselves running behind it when it wishes to escape the labyrinth.
We think of ourselves as souls ineradicable until we're finally enveloped in the dark clouds of reality, trying to brush away the bruises, in failed attempts to blow the scars away with our withered, deceased breaths and a gnarled look up on our faces despite the perplexed state we find ourselves in. But before it all vanishes into oblivion over the vast horizon of the imaginary world we had created, we find a star. A star that existed for us, witnessing our agony and misery, feeling and sinking...
As I sailed my ferry through tides and calm waters, the shore caught my sight. Upon reaching it, as the alien touch of tiny specks of sand particles filled the voids on the treacherous and lone skin, I let go of the ferry of life I was holding on to.
To be driven away by the furious waves in the direction, at the place it was meant to be. Away from me or into me.
For I was just the deep, vast ocean of memories that flooded lonely minds and fueled the suffocated, broken hearts to be driven in the direction of a dark happiness, as I made them lose to 'defeat' in the battle of love.
Satiating myself in the solace I found in others' havens.
The rose that danced
To the cacophony
Of the whistles of the wind
That blew furiously,
Yet, touched the petals
Gently, with love.
A lover walked past,
Showered with fragrance of daffodils.
A euphoric breeze,
Kissed the rose,
As it shed its thorns,
Letting go of the petals,
To let its love,
In the tiny specks,
Of particles that floated
In the heavenly air
Rule the skies.
The bruises on the stems,
That refused to heal,
A rose lay on the ground,
Crumpled by the footsteps,
As it bled of love,