She must have been a bohemian in her before-life. She goes from place to place earning people, making memories, living the moment, changing her days into unwinding chapters. She is no vagabond yet she is not still. She is a wanderlust. She is always in air, hard to get hold of. You may stumble upon her this moment and find her gone the next. She is like that, a lopsided creature. She wants everyone but needs no one. She is boundless. Her smile is the reminiscence of her happy self. Her tears are the marks of her tenderness, her bruises the proof of her belief in love. She is crazy. She is her own rebel. She is all the above things and a lot more at once. She is the exaggeration of humanity. S...
I don't need The Forever from you.
I need The Now,
The Spectacular Now in which
we can be a fairy tale king and queen.
Don't ever be afraid to show your love,
Don't ever let me ask for it, my love.
For this is not only a humane thing,
but some sense of an art my words cannot bring.
Promises are butter over breads,
only to mend our hearts with lies.
Like labels that are insecure fences,
we build to protect our fears.
Tame me not by avoiding me,
For I'm already used to that.
Blame me not to have made you fall,
for it is happening like the breathe I take,
without my aware.
Make me hear music of your choice,
Drown me deep into your shallow eyes,
Take me to the realms of your dreams, ...
She is there, jumping and running
and dancing and playing. She is
flapping her wings, spilling
the colors. She is trying to fly.
She does not fear the fall. She
is vulnerable. She is in
the happiest of her forms.
I won't pull her down.
Let her be.
The Right One...
They say it takes lifetime to find The Right One. Love, I think, is in realizing that Right One can never be found. It took mere seconds for her. She just accepted me.
I would like to think of a long ride with her. Traveling in the direction chosen by the road ahead, witnessing the world with two pairs of eyes, walking over her shadow, sleeping under her breathe. I'm willing to give myself completely to the idea of being with her. I keep repeating this dream inside my head. One long journey for my lifetime.
Like a rain...
Imagine yourself sitting, resting your chin on the windowsill with a mind wavering here and there. Suddenly rain starts gushing from nowhere. A much needed one. Every drop seems to mean something. They won't cease to leave you mesmerized. You find a strange peace in them. She came to me like that.
I think of her while watering
the plants at my backyard.
I long for that smile she may shed
when I give her flowers
blossomed in this garden.
Love really lies in these little moments we live for each other.
She is my music...
Music is like a magic, they say.
It can heal our hearts.
Music brings along a tinge peace and paints our moods white.
Even if the universe let you down,
music will come for your rescue.
But at the end of the day
I prefer hearing her talk.
Always admire people
with soul spilling attitude.
The kind who out pours innate senses
every time you strike a conversation.
You don't know what awaits
in those glinting eyes.
With them you may lose yourselves.
Sometimes you end up finding.
"I had my books. I had my shelf. I had my life" she said as tears started running down her cheeks. The sky above us was cloudy. We were at sitting at a park bench facing each other. The clattering of fallen leaves synced with her weeping sounds.
I couldn't process what was happening there. All of a sudden she started ranting about her past, listing the reasons for her take on our relationship. I stood up and charged towards her in, what seemed to be, a fraction of second.
'Please Abi. Why are you crying now?'
'Why have you come into my life Tamil?' she asked crushing my tshirt, looking at my face.
'Look at the mess we are creating now' she said with pouring tears.
I was numb. I was una...
Memories of love...
I always worried about it. The end of this whole damn world. It's end, as we have imagined, wouldn't leave a trace of human air. We may get shoved off in an instance. All these singing and dancing and gambling and fighting and fucking and loving and dying will not matter when the end hang above our heads. The chaos will destroy even the little bit of humanity that remains in the far most corners. That makes my heart skip a beat. Every time I look at your face I fail to convince myself that you're just a human, like me. No you're not , are you? You're going to survive the End. After that if you have to sit alone at the park benches, shores, stand at the top of a mountain, ...
I dreamt of you last night. In between a haze of images, I was standing at your doorstep.You were struggling inside. That guy, who thinks you’re in love with him, walked around only to pretend that he is still in terms with you. What intrigued me the most is you too understood it. That’s why it didn’t felt right when I knocked on your door. I don’t know why I kept coming to your doorstep. So I turned and walked away. This should be the last time I had to knock o...
The world inside her!
Her heart trembles. She doesn’t want to get lost. Out there people are all swaying around. They want to make an iron out of her that’s neither sharp nor any less blunt than the whole bunch of 'em. It brings a fear for her. Looking at those who delved hard to stand out but had eventually fallen apart piece by piece, she clutched her fingers into the palm trying to calm the storm rising inside. She should not let her brevity screen her eyes. People always got stuck there. She understands it. She understands how their head works. What a punitive life it must be to go run on a track already laid? She wants to breathe some air, some air that is still fresh from the touch of ...
out of the anguish created by people around,
the after math of mind fuck I came across the day before,
due to the wretchedness of continuous failures,
of getting proved wrong over relationships,
about the humans who corrupted my beliefs over life.
I’m talking as a result of today’s dismal happenings.
While you’re universally speaking,
I’m coming around the circumstances.
If you’re right, so am I.
Theory of phenomenalism says
'An object in the universe ceases to exist
when no other objects are looking at it or perceiving it.'
Every second of every minute of every hour
you’re constantly lingering inside my consciousness circle.
Does that mean you’re immortal?
She is nowhere to be found.
She is offshore when her heart started falling for him.
Once an indigenous girl she then became a far placed, deeply buried treasure. One day she peeped over to look if he has turned away.
He stood there, still searching.
She slid behind, sat curled up burying her face into the knees trying to fight over her fear of falling again.
--- M a y b e ---
Maybe you’re wrong.
May be you’re wrong when you think you understand me.
Maybe you’re wrong about the romance filled canopy of your dreams, stardust metaphor for me,
gut-wrenching solitude of our separation.
Maybe you’re not sure if you can love me forever.
Maybe, just maybe, you’re not actually in love with me
but just with the idea of being so.
Maybe you’re wrong about lot many things,
including human love.
But who cares?
I’m still here
with all loving, all caring heart
that started beating for you long ago.
She is a collection of shards of a broken mirror.
Some pieces fit in and others missing.
Still my reflections in them are beautiful than ever.
Round O' Clock...
You’re the embrace
Of the early morning breeze
That I wake up to, every day
You’re the aroma,
I sniff around
from my coffee cup
before the first sip
You’re the after shower fragrance
that makes me want to bathe again
You’re that peacefulness
I get from my playlist
when the world around
seems too much noisy
You’re the tenderness
from the kind people I meet
You’re the lingering smiles
in my evening parties
and the spotlight
for my sweet nothings
You’re the star shine in my eyes
as I look up
when the darkness surround
You’re the warmth
inside my bed sheet curls...
'What do you want to become?'
'How did you achieve it?'
'What are your dreams?'
'Who would you like to thank?'
People swayed around
the students with high marks
like a shackled ant farm.
'I too have dreams',
a voice mumbled in an empty room.
'I want to change the world that thinks
some dreams are bigger than the other',
with a low mark statement in hand.
She is the rainfall
in a midsummer evening
purging all over me
when I needed it most.
She is the wallflower
in a bequeathed palace
grabbing my attention
among the wreckage around.
She is the chirping of birds
I hear in the wild
reminding me of my senses
whenever I'm lost.
She is my reflections
in the stream of water
found at the desert.
I either have to live drinking it
or die loving it.
Wherever I turn,
I hear a sudden ‘thud’,
clashing my head,
with the ends that are dead.
Whenever I try
to find the truth of my life,
I end up
looking into a landscape infinity
that unfolds again and again.
However strong I am
in standing up
to witness the wisdom
of human heart,
I am being pushed
hard enough to crack
the insides of my skull.
Whatever struggles be there
waiting to crawl over me
and whack my head for punity,
the biggest one I’ll ever face
is my inner struggles.
The Wall between...
We let our sails row,
Like two wanderers in a rove,
To reach a shore that is—a distant
Mirage in the seas
We step an inch closer,
In a lust of becoming ONE
We yearn for further fancy,
In an attempt of universal sin
You know me by every cleavage in here,
I keep reflecting your soul
in a constant fear.
No matter the wreckage we cause
In the name of our ludicrous soul's loss,
For some reasons, the invisible wall in between,
Will always be impossible to cross
Will always stand in our path...
‘Thud’, ‘thud’ heart beats are faint
Noises stopped echoing
Smiles were only distant reminders
Of good old days
People started moving in chords
Footsteps played the rhythmic tracks
‘Thud’, ’thud’, ’thud’ now the beats are pacing up
Jumping and dancing fades,
Crying and mourning fades
Only memories remains,
Only memories prevails
Standing where we stood
like light houses to our happy souls
to help find our ways through our past.
‘thud’, ’thud’, ’thud’, ’thud’ the beats unstoppable
We ourselves got faded away,
Like some mid evening air
That came with chillness.
Uncertain, the lives ...
At the late evening,
After the sun has set,
Sitting on the cliff top,
Where the human noises are muted,
Starring at the moon’s reflection that
Dabbles over the river stream,
Trying to invoke all my senses
By letting the breeze
To transcend enough chillness
Into my body,
To make myself feel like,
A piece of feather,
A part of nature.
To live like that
Is such a heavenly way to live.
I want to breathe the air around you,
Taste the wetness in your tongue,
Sniff around your hair strands,
Adore the thirst for search in your eyes,
Cup your mouth when you tease,
Give pecks on your lips when I want you to shut up,
Lean over your shoulders to feel good,
Put my arms around you for comfort,
Lick your neck curve to make you tingle,
Pat your back when you are naughty,
Hug you to get lost from this world,
Wrap myself around
And make love with you
To reach a point where
We feel miserable
Realizing our inability
To get closer anymore as humans.
For such things to happen,
You don’t have to talk glossy blu...
I’m a colossal of complications.
Many got choked up,
trying to delve directly in.
You may find it hard to grasp
every moment of your presence with me.
Don’t be in a hurry,
you will end up get caught
inside a web of character traits.
Take one step at a time,
tip toe through my broken doors,
because I’m vulnerable to anymore noises inside.
My shades of emotions
may not comply
with your presumption of a human being.
Like weaving an articraft,
let me give you
Journey of a Soul
The unleashing of it’s first breath,
is the moment
a soul becomes a part
of the memories
in the lives
of people around it.
As our bodies grows up,
the soul inside it nurtures,
by becoming enlightened
about how to live a life.
Some finds this enlightening journey
a fortunate lane,
while others hit hard
to get rid of miseries and ignorance
they wore in the past.
What then makes this journey
a purpose full one
is the role we play
with the remaining souls
The energy we release,
without our consciousness,
becomes the tool of eternity
after the demise of our bodies.
By creating memories,
by making bonds through love
we all become eternal beings.
No person i...
When I look at your face,
I expect to see
a glow of rays behind them,
a mirage of smiles,
dancing over the forehead.
to have attained the ability
to see beyond,
to understand the truth
behind the faces.
Many see what you chose to show,
But very few recognizes those
you were unable to express
and helps dig out those
you had buried long ago.
The darkness strident happiness in those cheeks,
unfathomable heart breaks through those wrinkles,
in your long rehearsed smiles,
in your restless eyes.
A colorless life pictured still
In your colorful face.
What if I say,
Reflections you see
Sitting still at one corner of my room,
Staring into the horizon,
I lay my head over the windowsill.
Wind clattering against my glass window
I breathe dense and warm,
My mind maneuver the memories
Of my past,
And make my heart skip a beat,
When I realize the mayhem
I am creating inside myself
That may shred me into pieces.