|I had two longings and one was fighting the other. I wanted to be loved and I wanted to be always alone.|
What is it that you think, with your
Eyes fixated somewhere in between
Tense reality and subliminal thoughts?
Is it about life that you think?
Or is it about something else?
Has anyone ever told you that your eyes
Reach the peak of their beauty,
When they indulge with you in your thoughts?...
Do you ever chance upon the thoughts of me?
No, not intentionally but just casually.
I mean when the mass of thoughts
That you have accumulated over
A period of time, flows across your mind,
Does some astray thought, do remind
You of me? Perhaps even my face?
I think I'm asking for too much!
No, you misread my intentions.
It's not your fault, it's never been.
I mean instead of interpreting me
In a gen...
Do you pass like this everyday?
Through the shallow woods,
With your eyes downcast
Lost in the intensity of your thoughts,
Left to the integrity of their present.
Do you realize that when you pass like this,
Unperturbed by the worlds around you,
You create the epitome of perfection?
Which imperfect souls like me yearn for.
You seem like a portrait left out there in the open,
For people to decipher and attach meanings.
Have you ever realized the way I leave
My gaze to wander and waft around you?
Sometimes when I see a beam of sunshine flowing
Passionately towards you, escaping the crowding branches,
And finally finding that perfect spot on your face to rest.
No, I think you observe none, not...
Have you ever felt like the man on the beach?
The solitary man in the confinement of his mind!
Unsettling like the wind, while living among his kind.
Now what is worth looking, is his eyes.
The look that fills his eyes, as the silent time flies,
Riding upon the waves, ingrained in every grain of sand.
The look that comes to him, as he with all his passion tries,
To capture the last rays and the feeble feeling of setting Sun.
It's a wonderful thought, a strong feeling; I must say.
To be that man on that lonely beach, witnessing
The setting Sun, with his unsettling eyes.
Waiting and expecting in each passing second,
For the darkness to engulf him back to the void.
To behold the be...
Before I die, I would want you
To meet me again, once.
Just before I die.
No, not to let you know
How much I have lived
Loving you but to let you know,
How much I loved
Living with you.
For those each moment
Have etched a memory
So deep, so pensive,
Such that ones imagination
Meet me again,
So that I can point out
All those hidden messages
And intonation left out there,
In all that I ever created,
For you to see and understand.
Meet me again,
So that I can tell you about
My attempts to fight away
My thoughts of you, and
My thoughts of loneliness
I want you to interpret me again,
This time with sadness and pain.
Do you find a difference?
Let me help you with it.
You see that gaze of mine,
Is not of a person who has
It's of a person who has learnt
To draw his inspiration from
His losses, it is not content that
Reflects itself in these eyes,
It is the loneliness instead.
You can trace the history of
Massive proportion of self-conflict
Spread out on this forehead.
Now that smile...The smile,
Let it be lost in your interpretation...
For it has been indecisiveness
That has given rise to that smile.
Leave out that smile for me,
When you interpret me the next time.
In the solitary confinement of my mind,
I have reasoned, recorded and debated
A thousand times; over the reasons,
And decisions that ensued.
Of everything that happened
And everything that never happened.
And I have realised but two things.
What am I? Nothing but a bag of bones and flesh,
Held together by a great lie.
And what is love? Nothing but an emotional rush,
Felt constantly but denied.
Sometimes I think; are you even real?
I mean I have heard you,
Always from a distance.
I have seen how beautiful you look,
When your eyes are left wide open,
Enough to let loose your wonderful smile,
That feels like warm blessed sunshine.
Yes, it's a blessed smile for people
Like me, who have spent much of
Their life in the colour of darkness.
I have known that tremble in your voice,
Rather I have heard it, I can imagine
How your eyes would moisten,
With each dab of pain that's wrought
Upon them through subtle love.
I can sense the intensities of
Your lost emotions and memories.
I can touch your confusions,
As if they were formulated in my mind.
And yet sometimes, I can't help but think.
Yesterday in the stillness of the night,
I visited those lanes, etched
In the colours of our memories,
I think it was the darkness in me
That attracted their attention,
Though I would want to believe,
It was the dreams that really mattered.
For they receded within and fetched,
Those dormant emotions attached,
Buried deep within for none to understand.
In those shimmering memories I saw,
As lanes like decisions led one to another,
I understood what was never uttered.
Now with the conviction of a lost man I say.
That we are like planets, we both apart,
Encircling and deflecting each other
At the same time.
Bound and separated from each other
By the same force.
What keeps us apart is what
I will remember you in my death,
For people tend to forget
What they intend to remember in life.
So, I will remember you in my death.
I will wrap you in layers of my memory,
Slip you into the niches of my mind,
And everyday thereafter, I would remind
Myself to forget you inch by inch.
I do not want to recollect you
In the height of my madness,
In my dilemmas and indecisiveness.
I want to think of you as whole,
In the height of my happiness,
In that one moment when I
Know my purpose and role.
Hence, I think and I should
Remember you in my death.
Why is that we remember
Pain more often than
Is it because, pain is the
Only constant and
Happiness is something we
Or is because, pain is
What we are?
The flesh, bone and marrow
A projection of our sorrow.
If you can read between my lines,
If you can look past my sadness,
If you can reach subtly to my emotion,
If you can perceive my perception,
For I think sadness is the certainty
Which love has to achieve.
Believe it or not,
I think that's what it is.
Perhaps, it matters not,
How much we love.
What really matters is that
How we love?
It is not the words that make up the meaning of expressions. It is the silence between them, it is those assumed pauses and periods that make them beautiful.
The journey if it begins
Is a long one.
Spanning into days and years.
Would you be able to bear
With me for so long?
Would you be able to wake up
To the steady degradation of me?
Everyday, night after night.
Would you still be able to love me?
When my smile would mean nothing
But a mark of silence on my lips.
When there would appear
Thick lines on my forehead.
Scars so permanent which
Life would have given me.
I would commit things which
Cannot be forgotten or forgiven.
When perhaps I wouldn't be able
To remember the first word
Of love that you uttered.
Would you be still able to
Understand me in my silence?
Would you still feel for me
The way you feel for me now?
What is it I am afraid of?
Is it the unknown in you
Or the known in me?
That tends to lend
My thoughts the element of doubt.
I think I am afraid of them all.
My thoughts, my beliefs
My wrongs and my rights,
My desires, my delights.
I think I am afraid of me.
For I know for sure about you,
But I ain't sure about me.
Six years is a long time,
Too long a time to love someone,
And of all, Me!
Now the question is,
'Am I really worth it?'
Worth all this attention
And this emotion.
For I am,
A person flawed
At many levels.
Broken at places,
Catching and sifting pain,
Destitute of a man,
Ever floundering in self-pity.
I don't deserve that depth,
That passion you have to offer!
No, I don't know you!
In fact I never may.
I may not even want to.
Where you live?
Your dreams, your fears,
Your happiness, your tears,
I might never see them.
I would perhaps be a stranger,
And would prefer to be one.
The scent of your body,
The way your lips would
Quiver when touched by mine,
Will all be a part of my fantasy.
But what I know for sure
Is that I love these unprecedented
Meetings, the unintentional glances,
Unconcerned talks and those
Unknown emotions that waft
Into the breeze just to let you
Know that somewhere someone
Appreciates the beauty in you.
I think what connects us
Within, more than those,
Known scars and pain,
Is the hope that we kindle...
Within, unknown to even us.
The hope for that life,
That we have sketched...
Erased and then sketched,
Until in us it remained etched,
The shards of those happiness,
Well hidden as a remnant
Of some past life,
Under our skins,
Under our very hard skins.
Let me begin by wishing you a very happy and wonderful birthday!
Consider this also as a special note of thanks, not just on my behalf but on behalf of all the lettrists around the globe. We are just bursting with thoughts and expressions, all thanks to You and your wonderful Team, for you have not just given us a beautiful platform to express our conflicts, views and desires but you have given it such a beautiful and passionate pattern.
It feels like, as if I am in love with Lettrs, I just don't want to be away from this world, there's not a single day, which passes by when I don't come here, maybe just to escape from the realities of the real world or maybe for the reason t...
We have only this moment
To fall in love,
And love like there's
For I have my happiness
Found, in the unassuming
Words of sorrow.
Words that seem to take a
Strong liking of my emotions!
I have loved your eyes,
Your smile, your skin...
But what I have loved
And imagined more,
Is the reassuring
Sound of your sighs,
The pain that you
Hide always within.
Yet, sometimes I think
That we should love
For today and live
Sometimes I wish, if only
Love had a more concrete form.
If only it were something like
A piece of paper...
I could have easily crumpled it,
When I felt like.
Flicked it without a second thought.
Exchanged it for something
Passed it around with no caution,
Been immune to the selfish users.
If only love were less abstract!
It would have been easier for me to
Forget and move on...
I hope we never find the answers
That we are searching for.
For perhaps, it's not the answer
That really matters.
It's in fact the fact that we have
This time to think about, that counts.
And the beauty of the time
Is that it exists, whether we
Like it or not.
Can we for once traverse through
Which was at one point of time,
Perhaps, we can skip out some
Details and leave some unturned.
No, we need not go for those,
Which are the happiest most,
We can go for those, in which
We were unsure about tomorrow
And yet loved each other for
Whatever was left out for each of us.
Oh breath! What takes you away
From me, feels like death
What brings you into me
For breath, without you
Life wouldn't be possible...
I know not how to
Create a space in me,
For you to be there with me,
The thick tresses of your hair,
That fall upon your face,
Hides that sparkle in your eyes,
Eyes that have also known the pain,
Passion and pretty much the facts
Of this harsh life.
I have known you in these
Measures my maiden dear.
What I know not is your voice,
Which I suppose should be a
Reflection of your delicate soul.
For I have imagined your voice
Many a times in my mind,
Filling in those gaps that your
Words seem to have left, unspoken.
And I have failed at it miserably.
So my dear let me in,
Into your voice and let me feel
The true intensity of your
Voiceless words, for once.
I don't know if laughing is happiness... but yes, I do laugh a lot nowadays!
Let's drift away from each other
Like these clouds, to wander
Into places and people,
And perhaps never come back,
To conclude what we started.
Let's drift off to a sleep
Only to wake up and find
That we have not yet met
And it was all just a dream.
Let's drift away to a tomorrow,
Where we would be just
Strangers meeting to share
Memories of their own.
Let's drift away from this world,
Up to the heights, from
Where we would just
Witness the endless horizon
Stretching out, all around us,
Only to hold hands,
Look into each other's eyes
Well! We did have our chance.
Oh Death! If you were
To come to me now,
Be a little gentle with me.
For life never had the sense
And sensibility to be.
If we stop to love each other now,
I will miss you the most, not
For those moments that were the happiest,
Neither would I remember you
For those memories that are strongest.
I will miss you for those light moments,
That we shared, moments which were
Barely noticed otherwise.
I will miss you for that stupid grin of yours,
Which flashes across your face,
When you are genuinely happy.
That expression of desperate confusion,
When you think of something serious;
That look of utter surprise,
And the slight change of the color
On your face, when I place
An abrupt kiss on your nose.
That estranged drop of a tear,
That unknown to you, comes to you
To find its meaning in your eyes.
I will miss you f...
These are the times, when I think
I think of life with a sense of love,
With a sense of purpose.
I think I know why,
I think I know how.
For I find them mingled with
The sweat drop that runs across
Your face, that plays with
Your cheeks, and gently drops with
A regret it displays, as it lingers
On your chin for a second more,
Before I catch it in my hand.
And I see your lips quiver as they
Break into a smile, which you tuck
Back in, with a false reproach,
Like that loose strand of your hair.
At times I am afraid of the ease
With which you say out certain things,
Things that are bound to hurt someone,
Things that are meant to be not always said,
It comes naturally to you!
It's not just the things that you say
Worries me, it's rather the tone,
With which you say that out loud.
There's a strange sense of finality in that!
As if you have been already through this,
And you just are waiting, for a reason,
A reason to begin the end, of all this
That we have built and cherished.