|She reads books as one would breathe air, to fill up and live.|
We have had days when we saw autumn despite the green.
And days blanketed with darkness
But also of unbreakable dawn.
We have had days when we thought we don't belong.
And days when we'd argued over petty things.
But then we also had days of apologies, embedded in loving gestures.
And so came the days of sweet surrender.
We have had days, sometimes months, of lost contact.
But we tried to reform, transform.
And found our way to find each other.
We had dreams in which we could no longer recognize ourselves.
But turned over a new leaf each day, with the hope that it'll be okay.
We have had days of closing doors on each other's faces.
But then we turned a corner,
Found ourselves somewhere in...
And yet, it’s your side of the bed, the empty portion of the closet, that miniature plant you got for my study desk, our favourite set of coffee mugs, the blue ink you sprayed on my off white curtains, the stinking socks you left in the washing machine, our favourite little coffee table which we got here from your old apartment, the fat sketchbook you'd gifted me, the black dress you bought me, the 'You're my princess and I love you' note you'd stuck on my dressing-room mirror, your skateboard lying under the stairway and the phone charger that you forgot to take along, like always.
Each corner of this little place has a piece of you. The smell of your cologne still lingers around. But then...
Let me stumble into, not just the confession but the obsession, I'm with,
A reward so remote from me now, I have only made it with my mind.
You, your presence, your touch, your embrace, your love. I've all and everything here.
But the image is only of the mind’s vague structure.
In the crowd or solitude. In mirth or despair. You're always near.
In early mornings or late evenings. Sunrises or sunsets.
In the beauty of dawn or the silence of twilight.
Us, from the porch to crumpled bedsheets.
The love that's never gonna be.
Beautiful yet vague, for it's only my own.
A voice in my head which echoes only in yours.
I wonder whether they reach you before they die?
But in this painful ...
A house in the suburbs.
Rooms, with windows opening into the wild.
And us, seated on the balcony, in late evenings.
Talking and listening silences.
Fingers intertwined, with my head resting on your shoulder.
And you kissing my forehead.
This is exactly the kind of space I want to follow you into.
Love is like a timed roller coaster ride.
Rush of emotions. Fun. Fear. Excitement.
And then, things change.
You blink and you're in that position again. Clueless.
You let the other person take hold of not only your heart but the head too.
You fail to realise that love isn't life. It's just a part of it. A passing phase.
However beautiful it may seem, it has to go if wasn't meant to stay.
Don't hold onto things that aren't meant for you.
They just come to shape you. Break you, but shape you.
And then, carve out a more beautiful you.
Realize that the shoe is on the other foot, the ball is in your court. Take control.
Don't let a failed love ruin you.
Rejoice. Because love did make ...
*We make up to breakup.*
The misconceptions, grave misunderstandings, just don't let us be. We can't stay together, neither can we stay apart. We're a complete mess! Not the poetic 'beautiful mess' but the 'terribly impossible-chaotic-mess'.
The arguments, the fights and those words, we hurl at each other? Both egotists, both mercurial, both short tempered, each trying on being a notch above the other. After every fight, we say our goodbyes and pledge to not see each other's faces, so far as to 'erase ourselves for each other's life'. Our arguments are so heated that if an outsider would hear, he might think we're after each other's lives, to the extent of even tearing each other down to p...
YOU DON'T DESERVE SOMEONE WHO COMES BACK.
YOU DESERVE SOMEONE WHO NEVER LEAVES.
I try so hard to let go of you. But you're like that drug, that entices me. That lures me in. And I can't bind myself, however I try to tie myself into folds. They just seem too loose to hold me in place.
What have you done to me?
What are you doing to me?
I would have loved you all my life.
But now I'm here, trying to erase traces of your memories, left stuck in my subconscious like ink stains.
I'm never going back. You're never coming back.
Our book burnt to ashes.
Tough the scent of pages still linger around with dry smoke.
The air will soon consume it too.
Goodbye my almost lover.
There's nothing left to hold onto.
I started missing you as soon as I said goodbye. Letting you go, wasn't easy. Arduous. For you were the one I wanted the most to stay. But I'm okay now. It took time, but I'm fine. You're now one of the cherished memories. Happy and sad, but memorable, in every way.
Woods, dark and deep.
Crowded trees and drooping branches.
Tortuous paths, sometimes narrow sometimes wider.
And the silence calling out to you: 'you can always come back home, we're always waiting'.
--Ankita Singh Chauhan
Sun rays peeping through tree leaves.
Glowing soft, then with all the luminescent brilliance.
Influences are also visible!
--Ankita Singh Chauhan
An iridescent evening of spring.
That lakeside party.
Your hand on my waist, pulling me close.
And the kisses we stole.
--Ankita Singh Chauhan
You used to say I live in a fairy tale.
Guess you were right.
I saw a prince in a beast.
YOU ARE NOT THE WARRIOR. YOU ARE THE WAR.
'INVEST IN YOURSELF. AND THE WORLD WOULD INVEST IN YOU.'
DON'T CHASE PEOPLE. BE SUCH THAT PEOPLE IN TURN WOULD CHASE YOU. BE YOUR OWN HERO. YOU DON'T NEED A SAVIOUR. YOU ARE YOU OWN GUARDIAN ANGEL. NO GOD CAN SAVE YOU OR HELP YOU. HE ONLY TESTS YOU. PASS HIS TESTS AND HE'D REWARD YOU WITH SUCCESS, HAPPINESS.
'BLESS YOURSELF. THERE'S NO NEED FOR SOMEBODY ELSE.' DONT GIVE UNNECESSARY IMPORTANCE TO ANYONE OR ANYTHING. PEOPLE ARE SELFISH. THEY CHANGE. THEY LEAVE. THEY'LL ABANDON YOU IN TIMES OF NEED. BUT, THERE WILL ALWAYS BE THIS ONE PERSON STANDING BY YOUR SIDE: 'YOU'. THERE'S NO ONE TO HELP YOU OUT OF HELL, NO ONE TO SAVE YOU FROM THE DARK CLUTCHES...
Complexity and ease.
Like a nocturnal animal.
Twisting and turning.
Staring at the roof.
Trying to figure out answers to unasked questions.
These thoughts lead to nowhere.
But the trail doesn't seen to end.
Who is it that does this to us?
Is it the heart? Or the head?
Or is it the nerves?
Or just the lone night?
Thinking hard for no real reason.
Confusion embracing slumber.
Who does this to us? And why?
Years of insomnia.
Rain hitting the window.
Silences meet the sounds of thunder.
The smell of rain.
Memories of the past.
Shadows of the dark.
When even the rain can't lull you to sleep.
And the noises in the ...
Sunshine and rain.
The lone wandering clouds have today found company. I see bunch of them flocking together. Oh, and they're wearing shades of dark today. They seem to become one, all at once, a thousand messy crowds. Like they're enveloping the earth. Growling and thundering! Marking her arrival?
And here she comes. The first few long droplets on my windowpane. Scattered. Leaving a trail. Like someone running, impatiently. Wild, with a sound like thumping raring heart.
And the smell. The smell of rain damping the mud and the intermittent warmth of the sun, when the rays sneak their way through the dark dungeons of clouds. Will there be rainbows today too? Oh, how I miss that colourful, ...
My piece of sky
I've got my piece of sky.
The clouds flow in me.
Seasons come and go.
On most days, the sun shines bright.
Sometimes it rains,
Rains for hours long.
On most nights, it's star studded, beautiful.
Sometimes it is devoid of those flickering bulbs.
Sometimes it's just the lonely moon in me that shines in the dark.
We're just spoken words.
We're made of stardust, music and faded memories.
In our own felicity.
We're weaved into poetry.
We're summer rain.
We're the calm morning breeze,
But also the raging storm.
We're high of the mountains,
And the depth of the oceans.
We're the green of the grass,
But also the fall of autumn.
We're this beautiful mystery.
That in the absence of colors, we're becoming art.
I make mistakes.
I hurt myself in the process.
Sometimes, the bruises ache bad.
Sometimes, all of it turn out to be detrimental to my soul.
Let me be.
I'll fight it. I'll emerge like a warrior in this battlefield.
I am stubborn.
I am intractable.
I am overtly reckless too.
I am a thousand shades of insane.
Let me be all of that.
I'm not demonic.
Nor am I a maniac.
I am obstinate.
Yes, I don't follow lessons.
Since, they just don't get into my head
Not untill I've learned them all by myself.
Often, my volition is mistaken for lunacy.
My anger for belligerance.
My silence for ignorance.
My equanimity for acquiescence.
I am one scheming self.
I do have a voice.
I just don't wish to expend it all at an inappropriate time and place.
I'll use it, loud and clear.
When the cards will be in my hands.
And then, there'll be no escape.