It is often said that good stories and poems can lift up your mood in no time. As for me, I am just an ordinary human with a colourful vision. We all have our own shades through which we look at this world. Here, I would be presenting some of my pieces; join them and you’ll exactly know how my shades look like! You’ll find an arcade of emotions wrapped up in a surreal blanket of my imaginations, every tale will tell you a different story.
So, if you’re bored with your daily chores, stuck up somewhere, entrapped in a myriad of complications or you feel lonely even with a cup of coffee and music on a moonlit night, my compositions will be your companion. You might not be able to connect with all of it, but some of the pieces are sure to cut through your mind. Keep reading, persist in relating!
Silence lost in the mystery of yesterday, Narrates a story; Surpassing the strict check of your armoured mind I whisper into your ears, Of dreamy mornings in the days of yore. I hope you never heard the sound of my stealthy steps. Not knowing who you were, I spent hours basking in the mirth of an unplanned misery. I hope you never felt the warmth of my palms, My touch lacked the capacity to stir emotions. My eyes never revealed anything without your permission, The shine talked about the mischief of dust. My lips never broke a promise Even when I was breaking into pieces, Dousing myself in the fire of agony, All by myself. I just hope that this is just a hope.
Hiding behind the kitchen wall, A chubby girl eats chocolates; She sings all day and plays with a Barbie doll, Her restless legs now refuse to crawl. Two shiny ponytails swing turn by turn As her head revolts against boredom And moves back and forth; She says annoyingly, “How long do I wait for March 24?”
The years, Unable to keep track of untold stories, Reflected on her face with utmost honesty. That smile now beguiled some of the shiniest stars in the sky, The teary eyes plagiarized twinkling happiness And died every moment in the fire of a new lie. Her restlessness has succumbed to contemplative rantings, Yet she has her childish ways of loving herself. A daring sweetheart with a heart of straw, She says, “I turn twenty four and I’m bold. Even by mistake, don’t call me old.”
The doleful night begs for a calm closure, Sleepless eyes hanker for darkness; Nostalgia screams out in agony, To get rid of it’s existence. I wonder, How strong is my Persistence?
Whenever I look back, I see your eyes stealing the smile Of your lips locked up by Denial. Seconds spin yarns in seconds To give rise to a number of years; You stand behind me, Ageless, flawless and speechless.
You dwell in the intricacies of my silence; Words flow out of my eyes as droplets of Reminescence. Trials of forgetting you have Etched your presence deeply on my mind. Far away from the ‘Fading Green’, We will see each other in the woods, Once again. And there, you will be mine.
That story was not a part of our syllabus but the sweetness with which he uttered it’s title, aroused a “brow arching” curiosity in my mind. I went back home, left no stones unturned to avoid an unnecessary round of questions from my parents, headed straight towards my room and kept on flipping the pages of the book until I found the right one; I was startled to find two roses stuffed in there! I couldn’t read the story and it has remained untouched since then.
I stopped seeing him after that; I wish I had not tried to find the answers to some questions that were lingering inside my head, a demise blends “forever” with “never” in a tricky way, that makes denial more consoling as compared to acceptance and at one point we are left with no choice other than succumbing to the situation. He left behind a memory that haunts me even after years and it grieves a lot to say, “Yes, I remembered the roses…”