Note to self

Write freely? Let the words fall in place? Write with no strings attached? No.
Try writing with all your emotions attached to that one word which made you write in the first place. Read shitty poems on internet, write shitty poems on internet and re read your work. Because, who cares. Be your biggest fan. Take the compliments, take them all. It took you so much to reach here, stand your ground and take all the praise. Write what you want when you want and where you want. Fall in love and don’t try to hold it in anymore. Let yourself fall and let yourself love. Don’t be afraid to have your heart broken. It’s about time, just live.

~ 🧜‍♀️

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My space

Am I running towards a disaster
or turning into one?!
Leaving, they say, is the
hardest thing to do
and easiest after it’s done.
Finding oneself is a quest
a discovery of superior kind
I’m not talking about
finding a space for me,
but finding me.
It’s hard in all the glory of world
to be less
to want less
For, more is glorified,
more is expected
more is celebrated.
But I just want
to be invisible
in my home
in my room,
in my place of discovery.

Thoughts

I come here to say the exact same thing
For the warmth of your wing,
I’m tired of the know-it-all world
of being here, terrified and curled.

Poets on the streets say, it’s okay
Encouraging us to live another day,
Who knows about the next second?
Society is crying, stressing over.

You see this world will never know
Nor do they care anymore, now,
You and I, we all are going to die
let’s, just once, try to fly.

Allegory

We talk about grass
the way one talks about earth.
You can argue that
it’s the same thing
but honey, it’s not.
Earth is the one who nurtures,
lets the life grow
out of it
and have enough strength
to support life.
Earth is a mother’s womb,
heart of a father,
The eyes of the couple won’t/can’t be convinced.
Grass is life.
It can’t grow on its own,
It can’t see
how green it is
or how beautiful
the world think
a vast, lively field is.

Colour of beach bark

She smelt like the old stories
The Ones my mother sang,
her huge house was a shell
a garden,
lacking only a spring.

She told us tales
of people who left her behind,
I was in awe of all that she had
And what she didn’t.

Her daughter was of my age
A pretty face and fragile hands,
A girl, surrounded by people
A girl, no one could understand.

I fell in love with her boy
The walking beauty
of our gloomy beach,
His heart was a sacred place
a glittering thing, I couldn’t reach.

He’d walk on words
and swim in love
But we failed to keep in touch.
My memory seems forgotten
like the book you don’t miss much.

Haiku

Writing is cool
Words in my tired head
To read is to live

Chemical Hearts

I failed to check the alphabets
and ended up writing about love.
Once you asked me
how to write a poem on love
and I’m still searching for words.
I was trying to know love and poetry.
So I held my pen tight
and hoped for you to see the ink flow
through my fingers,
droplets dripping from my nails
to the hem of your shirt,
but you stayed there,
without a word
for none of us was ready to speak.

Well now,
I’m looking at your hands;
painfully beautiful hands.
I’m trying to reach out
and hold you.
Your soft, tender palms
come crashing me down
like the fresh waves at dawn.
I recognise the hands
I never held,
like your fingers were
designed to fit in mine.
But
Neither of us is ready.

Each day feels like a product
product of last words.
Words are crushing.
We’re yet to learn language.
Both of us are
waiting
for the other to speak.

You already know how this works;
I let you hold my hand
when we’re crossing streets,
Neither of us is bad at it.
Neither of us is ready to let go.

Skinship

Kafka said “all the love in the world is useless when there is total lack of understanding”. But, how do you make someone understand love?

Fear is a toothless beast.
I see you move across the house and wait for you to see me.
I have been writing on the shape of your mouth; it’s been days since you held me close.
I wonder what you think of the colour violet, you still love it?

I close my eyes
and you’re still here.
here and there
– everywhere.

Quick sand is diminishing through the hourglass. As if wind is carrying me away from you. In a flash I see you, then you’re gone. I’m taking care of flowers, lilies are blooming. You left me a candle of darkness.
I’m longing to feel your touch, mother.

Connections

“By convention hot, by convention cold, by convention colour, but in reality atoms and void”
  –  DEMOCRITUS

Conversations are tricky. It takes courage and tremendous conviction to initiate something without knowing how a person would respond. Our culture teaches us to be brave, to get up and join a group of people and be a part of the conversation; to be the tiny atom that makes this ever evolving universe. In other words, they say you’re only alive when you’re connected.

I hold on to the atoms within me and hope to see the world within my hands. Contrary to popular belief, world cannot be experienced in a particular way. I think it takes more than few words and couple of meetings to know someone. For some, it takes a lifetime. For some, lifetime is just one day. Sometimes, a day feels like a lifetime.

How do we connect? Will sharing what I’m feeling make anyone reading this my friend? Are connections that easy to build? How are people, people like you and me, are to survive this? How do we connect when we cannot even talk or lack the strength altogether?

Sketch credit: Bharath

https://ridiculousbharath.wordpress.com/

285 days.

Hey! Hi! And Hello!

I am still counting days? Well, I think I’m good at it. How I missed being here and how I missed my 3rd year anniversary here! Anyways I’m trying to be back and feels good.

It’s been long and I’m kind of looking forward to it, this time (again). I have read all the mails and I have noticed many of you coming back here and reading previous posts. I’m truly grateful for this affection and trust.

Let me know how you all have been. And I know many of us don’t like to say that loud in comments, so you’re welcome to share this via email.

Be well. I’m yet to catch up with a lot of people. I’ll be writing here shortly, 1 post/week for the time being .

~🧜‍♀️