|Artist | Nature-lover | Bibliophile | Aesthete |Feminist | Potterhead | Editor at Error: The Road Not Found | Dust of no one's soul I am🍁|
"I find you in half read books
and dusty sheets,
I find you in dried ink pens
and moonlit streets,
I find you in epiphanies that
turn into compulsive needs ;
I find you some place poetry
and possibilities meet."
"Sometimes life takes hold of one, carries the body along, accomplishes ones history and yet is not real, but leaves one's self as it were slurred over."
He said he was far , very far from me
Beyond my reach ,
How could then I feel him , within the beats of my heart
With the eyes shut, in the deep sleep
Even with open , in the day dreams
I could see him clearly sitting next to me
Spreading his fingers apart
Making space for mine
Clutching my hand so tight
Like a bird that holds on to a branch,
too afraid for the first flight,
Laughters of you , of us
Echoes when I pass by that lane
That light still flickers
But he says , things have changed !
Somehow you travelled in time
And I seem to have broken my watch again
Before I buy a new one
On this weary branch you still have claims
These twigs and leaves you collected
Await to be wo...
"I will wake you up early
even though I know you like to stay through the credits.
I will leave pennies in your pockets,
postage stamps of superheroes
in between the pages of your books,
sugar packets on your kitchen counter.
I will Hansel and Gretel you home.
I will talk through movies.
Even ones I have never seen before.
I will love you with too many commas,
but never any asterisks.
There will be more sweat than you are used to.
More words than are necessary.
My hair in the shower drain,
my smell on your sweaters,
bobby pins all over the window sills.
I make the best sandwiches you’ve ever tasted.
You’ll be in charge of napkins.
I can’t do a pull-up.
But I’m great at excus...
An eerie silence that surrounds on a moonless night
A dark thought that looms when the stars don't shine
An unease that follows when these celestial beings go out of sight
A comfort that finds its way;
Their absence is just for a day
For the rest of life
All this brightness will remain mine...
I have four pretty ,fancy journals that lie unopened in a drawer of my bedside table
Gathering on some dust and light occasionally
In one of them I wrote pieces at a time when I wasn't afraid to share whatever i thought and felt
The rest of its pages i now use to pen down quotes from popular writers and some metrical couplets
For I am too afraid to pick up the pen again
Or to type the heart out
Can't even say it aloud
Because I am sure ,this time too ,the words will escape me
I too have stories, ideas, thoughts and opinions to tell
But I know I won't be able to express it well
In my head vivid details & climax perfectly reel
Still emotions won't ink out and will definitely flee
And I kept looking for the sun beneath my shoes which was all this while shining bright above my head.
If thou must love me
If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say,
"I love her for her smile—her look—her way
Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day"—
For these things in themselves,Belovèd, may
Be changed, or change for thee—and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry:
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.
- Sonnet 14,
What you've been seeking outside
Remains hidden within you,
A break from the world
A moment of introspection is all you need.
From the Journal.
The sun that glares straight into the eyes, These trees that stand tilted towards left as if bowing to their lord, The bus that honks expressing its hurry, A man who flicks ash from his cigarette as if flicking away his remaining life, This mouth that longs for the taste of love, Those dipped feilds, The white birds bathing in them, The eyes that are slowly shutting away the scenery, The mind that is already thinking of monsoon songs, Wavering off to the memories of a tunnel behind a lonely house in the woods, The lovely lady who lives there, never seen, once heard, always loved, His thoughts that sneak in now and then, The bite of chocolate that fails to give pleasure like...
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me
And may there be no
moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea ...
Twilight and evening bell
And after that the dark
And may there be no
sadness or farewell
When I embark...
- Crossing the bar,
Beauty is truth,
truth beauty, — that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
- John Keats,
'Ode on a Grecian urn'
Only you can pull yourself out of your misery, no one else no matter how close can ever can.
#Repost because womanhood is being celebrated yet again for all the wrong reasons.
A Woman's Avowal
Don't respect me , because I am someone's daughter, sister, wife or mother , If you want to respect me , then do it because I am a Human,
Infact , I Do Not need your respect, its too late for that, I need Space , my personal space to decide what of the above mentioned roles I want or do not want to play ; Let me choose, make my own choices and learn , Don't judge me not because you are unaware of my experiences but because You Do Not Have The Right to do that , my body is Not for your admiration, my red lips are not to lure you but for my own happiness, my consent matters, Being strong,...
"With every passing swirl
Some distance I go ;
A guide for the journey
I do not yet know"
Its alright to shed some tears once in a while ,
These are anyway going to empower you .
"Love is seldom about first impressions..."
It was about his touch , a little lust and mostly mush
It was like a child's cry in a deep sleep
It was a walk with stilettos on a hill steep
It was about a few tears, loss of friendship and just memories left to weep
It was about me and my heart being crushed
It was about his absence when my life was all fucked
It was about the hope ,the wait , and a love that never found its way
He was a man who chose to keep me at bay ;
As the time flies,
It is about the twinkle in his eyes
The smile that follows when he sighs
His words that never lie
Those poems that he makes sure always rhyme
His poor humour that never fails to tickle
It is about ...
Everyone will reach a point in their lives when they will break away from the shackles called ethics they had created for themselves upon which all their decisions lie ;
But then ,
are you liberating yourself out of your own irrational boundaries?
Or are you just replacing your set of shackles ?
"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints.
I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and,
if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death."
The smell of poetry that lingers around, like the aroma of a dying rose , imbibing deep within the soul , a scent so arresting that it refuses to go, no less than a balm to that bruise , making the reader feel like the poet's long forgotten muse...
"Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it mat...
"Raat yun dil mei teri khoyi hui yaad aai
Jaise virane mei chupke se bahaar aa jae
Jaise sahraaon mei hauley sey chale baad-e-naseem
Jaise bimar ko bewajah qarar aa jaye"