Empty
I imagined a piece of flesh hanging from the ceiling
In the blankness of the mind it fitted in right
How long has it been there?
It will take them days to realise
Who will look for me, who will be the first one to find?
The train of thoughts was moving fast skipping all the junctions
I pulled the chain and got off at some random location
Time to eat, the stomach said
Will have to cook, said the mind
The train consumed all the fuel, I can’t wake up, not even as much as to switch on the light
Let it be then both agreed
It’s anyways not unbearable
And what’s the point of throwing food
First get accustomed to cooking for one person
Last night I broke into tears while laughing hysterically on a joke
It’s no mood swings, not my periods
Just the echo of my laugh that makes me choke
People ask me to ‘make’ friends
Are they some craft? How do I make them?
Or may be this is how it was always done?
I just failed to learn the art, not even in decades
Now the blushing sky tells me the sun is almost here
Then the knocking on my eyelids must be some sleep
Take a nap before the train departs again
And takes you on an endless journey of emotions like some forest deep.
The road taken and the consequences
Its a never ending battle. It’s not even a battle actually for it never makes you extremely scared, not for your life, not anything else. It just suffocates you. It’s so difficult to know things expecially about yourself. Other people can tell you about themselves but who is gonna tell you about yourself? What do you want to be in life? Why is it even necessary to be something? For money? For passion?
Who knows and honestly no one cares. It’s actually crazy to me how our interests keep changing over time.
Remember deciding your profession solely based on the last movie you watched? If you loved the movie, then, for sure you wanted to take up whatever profession the lead character was in.
You realise your skills by the time you reach High School and then leave behind your fancy dreams. Then comes the realisation of competition in this world and the pressure from your parents. That makes you drop some dreams. And finally, ‘money’, the most ‘important’ aspect of life. After all, what is the point of being in a profession, though your favourite, that doesn’t fill your stomach?
It’s almost like life gets narrower as you grow old. Fewer dreams, fewer friends, fewer expectations.
There is a funny part to all of this as well. You won’t find out till you actually step into it. If you think that you can decide what you want to be in life in a day by just sitting and thinking about it, you are wrong. You will have to pick up a path. It can even be the path that ‘Robert Frost’ did not take, but you must walk. You will feel like wasting your time or might actually enjoy it, but the point is, you won’t find out till you actually do one thing or the other.
It’s time taking for sure or euphemistically speaking, demands patience and is heavily dependent on the ‘Its never too late’ concept.
And you know what, it’s extremely difficult to even try to end a piece of writing on a positive note when your soul itself is confused and still figuring things out. But, I am glad that atleast I am walking whether it is the right or the wrong path.
The pages of a diary
When you filled the first of our days with your ambitions,
I believed it’s going to be a fun trip.
That we will be together for a long time,
With our bond strengthened at every stroke of your pen’s tip.
At times I was scared of how much I know of you;
The crushes you had, the people you loathed the circumstances you feared.
I felt special that only I knew what made you cry,
Before the words were boldened and then smudged by your tears.
It was painful when you tore pieces off me,
Scribbling the most beautiful anger art.
The “dictators of your life” could never find the rebel’s hideout,
I made sure to absorb all the pain in your heart.
It was decided the moment you entrusted me with your beloved’s flower,
That if the world ever puts you on trial I will defend and be your attorney.
I swear I called your name when the “little one” invaded our privacy,
As I meant it when I declared myself a confidant in this journey.
I felt the burden of your heavy heart
when you started filling me with your emptiness,
I still carry the guilt of knowing
the exact moment you gave up on life and liveliness.
The flower has changed its colour
I won’t embrace you with rented fragrance like before,
The pen is as lonely as me in the company of my pages
My dear why don’t you pick us up why don’t you write anymore?
Random Thoughts 