Who are you?

Sometimes the lack of human interaction really gives one time to dwell. To dwell on what went right and how it could have been better. But more often to dwell or rather critique upon what went wrong.

What went wrong?
You thought you were quite strong.
You had it all figured at about nineteen,
Way ahead of your time, you had always been keen.
Your life had been planned,
You exactly knew where to stand.
Refusing the little ‘pretentious’ helping hands,
Look where you’ve land.
The ‘right’ path that you wanted to follow,
Was more than just a bitter pill to swallow.
You were never designed for furs and frills,
Never the one who’d like your current favorite – “Cheap Thrills”
You were the one who couldn’t fit a particular type,
Meant to be raw and rusted, why did you become ripe?
You’re finally giving in to the societal pressure,
Trying to the ‘the right’, that they decide.
But the fortune 500s are meant to be for a few fair ones,
But is your fortune really good enough to compete with the tons?
You don’t go about life planning a strategy every day,
You’d definitely not spend summers collecting hay.
You thought you’ll take life as it comes, one day at a time.
Oh, and did life come hard, playing the game very fine.
You were the one who wouldn’t trust at all,
As trusting, in the past; has made you look so small.
And there’d be times when you’d give in all and expect none,
Because later, you can always blame it on intuition.
Your brain didn’t know logic, it was all instinct,
Manipulative, calculative world; made your instinct – extinct.
So you decided to do whatever your heart liked to do,
But now there are no answers coming, you have no frikkin’ clue.
Apart from being a bathroom singer, what else can you be?
Caged in the world you created for yourself, you feel free.
Maybe I should just write and do nothing else at all,
Without expecting any traffic; my blog will never have that kind of footfall.
I thought a pen and paper would be enough to sort the shit,
As I wrote I realized, “terrible handwriting”, park your thoughts for a bit.
I turned to a Word doc, barely containing overflowing emotions,
Seeking help with my verbal diarrhea…
(“Oh, wait! I just spelled diarrhea right; maybe I am not that bad.
Wouldn’t surprise you here either, it is just the spell check – how sad.”)
So just let me be the way I am, awesome in my own way;
Awesomely confused, Awesomely clueless, Awesomely insane;
Just trying to drain my overcharged brain.

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An Expression Of Depression

The sun and you aren’t friends anymore,

You don’t want to wake up while it shines in all his glory.

You want to paint a colourless picture,

Because there’s no better way to narrate a tragic story.

The food you eat is all good to look at,

But everything tastes the same.

Just like your life- bland and incomplete,

Who else could you possibly blame?

There will always be someone taller, thinner, fairer;

You can never meet the worldly beauty pre-requisites.

They will have wit and humor, sharper brains;

Creativity beyond comparison combined with impeccable etiquettes.

Someone will always be better,

And wouldn’t skip a chance to make you feel worse.

To amplify the effect, you are a self-critique,

Oh what a curse!

You are still lingering somewhere,

Not even half way through.

The rest are close to the finish line,

How? You don’t even have a clue!

There are games people play for leisure,

But you take them to heart.

Eventually you give up and loose miserably,

As you get tired of trying too hard.

You either settle for a zero or a hundred,

There is nothing that’s in-between.

And you are envious of the fact,

That the grass on the other side is always more green.

You know you need help,

But don’t know where to go.

If you act too needy,

The world asks you to grow.

None of your words kind enough,

No pouts are pretty.

Your voice lacks melody,

And none of the statements witty.

When a yellow outfit isn’t bright enough

To brighten your mundane day.

The red lipstick and thick kohl,

Fails to make the smile stay.

When you turn to your own people,

Hoping they might help.

But they make you realise a few more flaws,

Which you in the past; could never tell.

At night then you sit with an endless list of things

That need to change pretty soon.

Tearing through the night, you finally give-in

And end up sleeping way past noon.

Because..

The sun and you aren’t friends anymore,

You don’t want to wake up while it shines in all his glory.

You want to paint a colorless picture,

Because there’s no better way to narrate a tragic story.

 

 

 

 

The Fault of Fear

Constantly avoiding the war between matters of heart vs mind over matter,

Looking for intellectual conversations rather than mere worldly chatter.

Seeking refuge in the ‘far from reality’ idea of perfection,

Adjusting with the barely there, on-the-surface; human affection.

Words of wisdom fall on deaf ears and inspirations left uninspired,

Trials and errors, efforts in vain, a million attempts and eyes tired.

Anticipation overpowers prudence, lust takes over love, 

Consciousness being slayed by daemons riding above.

Irrational, skeptical, stereotypical mindsets,

Bothering the tender minds, heartlessly placing bets.   

Both animals and humans, trained and tamed,

By power; land, water and even air claimed.

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A Syrian kid drowns, another one thinks the camera is a gun;

People in power misusing their strength, playing with lives; having fun!

Life comes cheap and has become easy to end,

The theories of the this world need to mend.

A place for love, this world was meant to be;

What a sight it has become, look around, see!

Rapes and murders, trials pending,

A little money spent – judgements offending.

Topped with adjectives, words coated with deceit,

In an assembly of people, speeches discreet.

Illusions created far from true,

Words that can save the world, only a few.

They say religion helps you tell right from wrong,

They keep singing the same old song.

They always said have fear of God,

Replacing love with fear, they’ve been feeding us fraud. 

Ethereal Evening Spent With The Unknown

Get playful with the stars and trap the moon in a fishnet,

Let’s prolong the night and talk about all that makes you fret.

Ask me questions that haunt you, we’ll find answers to them all,

Tell me what gives you a high and what is it that makes you fall.

Let’s make believe you are real,

Or a fictional character who can feel.

Unveil secrets that have been locked into you for so long,

I swear they’ll stay safe with me, guarded all along.

Share with me what makes you smile,

I will transform it in a song and sing for a while.

Also, let me know what gets on to your nerves,

Is it, not getting something one rightfully deserves?

We’ll crib about the things that could’ve worked better,

And tell each other about the contents of an unsent letter.

I want to know the color that you love the most, the fragrance that you wear;

Show me the doodles in your diary and share your most sincere prayer.

I want to know the meanings of the fancy words you say,

That leave me spell-bound and let you have your way.

Where’d you learn to perfectly modulate your voice?

You scold, it never hurts. How did you practice so much poise?

Tell me how’d you like your morning tea, the herbs you want me to infuse;

Will make a note of your breakfast preference so that you can’t refuse.

Let me know your travel plans and ask for my company,

Sing to me as I fall asleep, save me from the deafening worldly cacophony.

Unlock, dust off and rekindle the silent emotions,

Defy the norms they’ve set and live beyond the mundane notions.

Help me visualize the dreams you see,

Let our souls be wild and free.

Tomorrow morning let’s complain about how the time went by so soon?

And sleep with me through the afternoon.

Let’s make a wish, close your eyes;

Ask for fragrant flowers and butterflies.

For mornings that are full of peace,

For fictional poetry transforming into real nights like these.

Incomplete Emotions

Judgemental jury,
Preconceived notions,
Unfulfilled desires,
Incomplete emotions…

The certainty of uncertainties.
The assumption of facts,
The stubbornness of solitude,
And broken contacts…

The wrinkled clothes,
The unkempt hair,
The chapped lips,
Lonely eyes blankly stare…

The lips parting slightly,
Attempting to speak,
Mumbling and fumbling,
But words too weak…

The shattered heart,
The tattered curtain,
An empty ink-pot,
Anxiety certain…

The heart panting,
A tear drop rolling,
The next second – a forced smile,
Mysterious life; unfolding…

The bliss in confusion,
A puzzled mind,
The comfortable chaos,
Hard to find…

Mundane muse,
Water overflowing,
Uninspired moves,
Heartbeat slowing…

The present shy and meek,
Past; bold and brazen,
Unfinished poetry,
Lacking presentation…

Trembling hands,
Body sore,
Thirsty soul
Asking for more…

Sitting contemplating,
Looking for hope,
A ladder to climb,
Or being pulled up by a rope…

Fighting the fuzzy vision,
I let out a sigh,
As the devil called time,
Slowly passes by…

Repercussions of Being an Optimist

1

I love dream catchers and read fancy fables,

I am constantly willing to turn tables.

I dream of sunsets and serenades,

When nostalgia kicks in and the present fades.

My haunted heart appreciates smiles even from mannequins,

And I see helplessness in the eyes of the ones committing sins.

2

When I see shades of dull black and greys,

For mercy my innocent heart prays.

I gain pleasure from the fictional world,

As I sit with my book, up-curled.

I see beauty in pain and discover music in noise,

My inside is a volcano, outside – pensive and poised.

3

I want to know everything way too soon,

Who said inquisitiveness is a boon?

Weaving the real life into a fictional story,

I bask in the surreal glory.

In my head I take the road less taken,

All this isn’t in my sleep, you’re mistaken.

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I day dream and create situations unreal,

As I give my heart the time to heal.

I know right now there is no music and dance,

But in a better time, I’d give love a chance.

Gathering gold, I am a self-proclaimed alchemist,

Dealing with the repercussions of being an optimist.

Get Me a Paperweight

Get me a paperweight…

I want to write down those memories that weigh down upon me,

Buy hand-made paper, use the most expensive pen.

I am going to write them down in the finest handwriting possible,

And if tears roll down, I am going to count till ten.

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Get me a paperweight…

There is too much to carry and feelings heavy,

They will transform into a literary masterpiece.

Ornamental words, alliterations and metaphors,

All sown together in the perfect rhyme scheme.

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Get me a paperweight…

I want my surrounding spick and span,

Ask the maid to boil some herbal tea and wipe my table.

Light a few incense sticks, play soothing music,

Before I sit down and transform our life to a fable.

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Get me a paperweight…

I need to write not just for myself,

But the world needs to know, they’ve been waiting.

The condiments perfect, the dish is done, garnish ready,

Now I just need to take care of the plating.

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Get me a paperweight…

I am going to write until, my fingers ache,

And the ink of my pen bleeds the paper.

My heavy heart is cold and blunt,

But my memory is sharp and my pen is tapered.

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Get me a paperweight…

Because I don’t want my work to disappear,

I simply can’t get rid.

I don’t want to it to fly away in thin air,

Just like my feelings did.

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Get me a paperweight…

And let it sit on my words,

Like the mother hen while she waits for her eggs to hatch.

Maybe they can retrieve the past,

For now, I’ve got my breath to catch.