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.
Making Peace
I remember when it felt unbearable.
The silence I yearned forever,
Was distinctly audible.
Is that how it feels being vulnerable?
Tears rolling down everywhere,
bedsheets, toilet, dining table.
‘But it’s good for you’, I told my reflection.
‘You are a big girl now,
Stop craving for attention’
Sometimes being alone brings perfection.
“You chose it for yourself why cry now?”
Said someone for whom I had greatest affection.
So I began to wait to get used to it eventually.
Like the first time I wore specs,
Didn’t like them immediately.
If it were a battle I would’ve fought courageously.
But Ashoka seeks Buddha,
When victory is celebrated regretfully.
Some affairs demand you yield.
I know I will be called a loser,
If ever, my secret is revealed.
Yes I surrendered, I bowed down, I kneeled.
For all I know and care about,
Is the pain will slowly get healed.
For the want of your love
Another prayer went unanswered
My wish remains the same
Like it’s the first day
Make us meet again.
Can I get another shot at first impression?
As the ‘first’ one didn’t went well.
I know myself better now,
After you introduced me to myself.
Now I know what not to do,
The definition of charming as per you.
Bending rules for the want of your love,
I will forget me before you.
But, something tells me
I will still be the same,
And you will never love me
For who I am.
Sadly, this isn’t bollywood,
We’re into reality.
Here, getting rid of specs
Doesn’t change your personality.
You can pray, you can cry
Or you can beg them too,
At the end of the day
You can’t ‘make’ someone love you.
The odd one out
You! yes you
The black among the whites
The lone star of dark nights,
The tortoise in rabbits’ race
Nah! Not the winner
That’s not always the case.
You, who were too big to fit in the box
So they chopped your ‘useless’ wings off,
Now you look more like the other products
To serve uniformity
All of us have sacrificed a little bit of us.
For individuality stokes fear
You did whatever kept you near,
The flock of one’s who look like you
But differences became stark
The closer you drew.
Catching up, keeping up, living up to them
Drained of all glitter, was once a shining gem.
It’s an endless chase with no finish line
It ends with you
Either you decline or you resign.
No matter how much you try to fit in
You have already committed the sin
Of thinking apart, of having doubts.
The road ahead is deserted yet,
Regards, the odd one out.
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?
Point of no return
His love was like a treat
Had me begging for more at each step,
I thought I was climbing up a ladder
It was a clifftop of unfathomable depth.
Do not leave me here in this maze
For I am unaware of these ways.
Yes, I committed the sin of opening up,
But my alibi is your assurance and my trust.
You took me up and up till the ground disappeared into clouds,
Wandering in the sky I felt like a kite.
Between a bird and a kite one is dependent on thread,
And oh dear how did you forget that I am afraid of heights?
My head hangs low admitting it’s a point of no return for me,
We either move together or, if you set me free,
You might not have any regret, not even it’s whiff,
But I will have no other choice but to jump off the cliff.
Unsaid
The crumpled sheet of paper beneath my bed, the message in my drafts the words unsaid.
All of them are so special, the uncertainty they hold, plus endless speculation.
I can’t help but think of your reaction, would you have rejected or reciprocated my affection?
The dots following a sentence are not useless afterall…. words are waiting at the tip of my pen, I’m not letting them fall.
A proposal
They were walking side by side, followed by a cold breeze. The streets were almost empty but they didn’t realise it as, at this moment, they were feeling each other’s company more than ever. Both of them knew that this was the time, it had to
be said now. But who will go first?
“I… wanted to say something, actually wanted to ask something” said the girl.
“Yeah…sure, what is it?” Asked he, albeit surprised, as he was pretty much confident that he would be the one to ask her, for, among them he was definitely the talkative one.
She stopped walking and turned towards him. Now they were face to face. Nervously, looking down, as if reading something from her shoes, she started saying, “Have you seen those instagram posts, very bland, nothing distinct about them or we can call them not so aesthetic… But sometimes they have these long ass captions, which are actually very thoughtful, very deep. People scroll past them.” She finally looked him into the eyes, and asked “I’m kinda like those long captions. Would you like to read me more?”
It took a moment for the proposal to strike him. But as soon as it did, he smiled, as if shying away for falling in love once again with the same person. With great conviction in his eyes, and as much love as possible, he held her hand and said, “Of course, I am an avid reader.”
A letter for help
It’s her third letter in a week
The cries are getting louder, I’m scared to have a peek.
I can see the letters bold behind drops of tears,
They are mine they are hers, they stink of fear.
Every now and then she reaches out her hand,
Wanting to be pulled out before meeting the dead-end.
The numbness has started to fill in her body
Is it a graveyard? Is she a dead body?
I’m trying to remember when did it started
Did I ignored, joked around or sincerely responded?
But I’m fine, neither dead nor dying,
About to grab her hand only to find a thousand chains tying.
How do I break it how does it shatter
Who is dragging me down, is it me, is it her?
I realised, even her stillness is better than my vehemence
Breathes make you drown, corpses just float seamless.
But it’s not the final call yet
I am here till the sun sets.
Whatever it takes to break the chains,
My fatigue should not put her efforts in vain.
Till the letters stop bringing in cries
I’m using my breath to keep her alive.
Random Thoughts 