..with me?
Have you been fretting… incessantly? Have you been suggesting… silently? Have you been crying… inaudibly? Have you been alone… increasingly? Have you been drifting… steadily? Have you moved on… already?
Have you been fretting… incessantly? Have you been suggesting… silently? Have you been crying… inaudibly? Have you been alone… increasingly? Have you been drifting… steadily? Have you moved on… already?
The wallpapers turn stale The texture had devoured your fragrance… The books grow soggy The pages had felt your breath… The windows scream The panes had seen you leaving… as I live by what you had said as I forget what I had been as I choose to see it as I stay put as
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Pent up emotions A whirlwind of expectations The vacuum of anticipation Surrogate designation Embryonic something Lost the desire to be born Looking for peace, Round and around. The end of another year Faces to be replaced (Stay detached, they say, They are not to stay) Lessons learnt, and yet No lessons learnt The hope of
The beggar begins his day Reaches his spot A dog hurries wags n paces Is served. Steady strides stop with the sight Of concern for the cornered Admiringly. Destitution does not derail his dedication For a stranded stray dog Food finds fissures. We observe move forget. Where to? What lies ahead in a bumpy circular
I saw him in another man much older than he had seemed when I saw him last My eyes went back to his face repeatedly Why did he look familiar? Would he have aged in the same way? Texture of his skin was much smoother, sagging had just begun, hair not all white He left
The intuitive bonding The telepathic murmurings Fights disappointments realisations Silent shrieks Loud silence And yet The looking for the voice The warmth The touch The story tied safe in folds The new and the old.
Dear Eyes It has been a very long time since I talked with you directly. Life became convoluted with every passing moment and I somehow forgot that my life is connected with yours. In fact, I became so immersed in the conundrums of my own existentialist delusional self that I forgot your blinks are directly
Goodbye! Never say goodbye, they say. But say it! Probably it will ooze out the nothingness like blood gushing from the wound. Probably it will cavitise the void further And vacuumise the hollowness more. More would it make strong than stronger And more would it lead to the road ahead. So goodbye to the sinking
One fine day I will liberate you from the confines of my heart Where the rusty weariness leads to heavy breathing Where the old world values are music to deaf ears Where the complications of this or that weigh upon your free soul Where there is neither black nor white, grey always Where the labyrinth
Forgetting, although presumably very vain and mundane, is an essentially aesthetic exercise because it leads to purgation of all the heaviness that acts as a parasite killing the host silently, yet profusely. Is forgetting equivalent to forgiving? No, it cannot be. There is an unconscious element of self definition involved in forgetting- a blissful feeling