Nostalgic Times

Thy inner child,
May it never die
Peep a little from
The drapes that engulf melancholy
The pristine color of the soul 
Blends with the echo of peace
The falling drops on the window sill
Etches a memory locked within
Of paper boats and toothless laugh
Of carefree grins and those free falls
Thou are still a little child
For the hands that fed
And helped you grow
Every time the Lord paints the window
With colors so few but memories anew
One more time, I take a tumble
To the lanes, I left the pieces
Of the puzzle that makes me whole
Incomplete but full in my form
Methinks my inner child
Has refused to grow.
From paper boats to imperfect verse
From toothless laugh to reflecting memories
From carefree grins to subtle smiles
From free falls to stealing a tumble
I grew up and left the lanes
But this inner child of mine
Still takes me back to the times
And I smile and cry
At the beautiful irony of life

 

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You Beauty!

The massiveness of nature 
The minuscule existence of humanity
The blend so artistic 
A balance so intrinsic 
As I stand and ponder 
The only thing that resonates is
Who we truly are
Amidst a force so gargantuan
This canvass of nature
Still feels surreal
Did I really behold this
Or imagination took me for a ride
Incredibly amazed
At the colorful trance of white

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Puppets.

So, it’s been ages since I penned a poem. sometime,s we really wait for the perfect inspiration to come along. This time, it came in the shape of the beautiful picture taken in the golden city, Jaisalmer. As much as I want to take credits for this beauty, this one belongs to dear friend Bhavya who is as blessed with words as he is with his photographs. Visit him at his blog here.

I really think we are nothing but puppets who simply plays the tunes, life has picked for us.

XXX

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Inside her head
She plays various roles
She smiles bright
Even with darkness inside
We’re puppets playing
The game of life
She met too many souls
Inside her heart, she let them in
Yet a part was always kept
Locked within
She waited to meet
The one who would see
The insides of her heart
Could flowers grow in lands
That had been barren for long?
She wondered if there was more
To share and say
Or all her life, she would remain
Puppets playing
The game of life
Love touched her once
Poetry was stirred
Her words wed his words
Together they strummed
A chord so melodious
A flower finally bloomed
In the barren land
She let down her guard
Allowed someone inside
Was this too a game
Life often played
She wanted to believe
She wasn’t another puppet
Just playing her part
She wanted this to count
She wished it would last
She wondered if the stars
Would stay together or apart
A hundred questions in her fat eyes
Brimming with doubt, mystery inside!
She stares at the blue, endless sky
Contemplating what in her fate resides
The ones we love and the ones we leave
Stories that fulfil and the ones that stay incomplete
Are we all puppets
Playing the game of life?
Is everything predestined?
Is she fated to resign?
The poem comes to an end
But the show goes on
The puppet smiles
Because in the game of life
We do what is destined
Enveloped in tears and smiles
Her little heart breaks
As she is haunted by the goodbye
That shall one day break
This beautiful lullaby
We’re the puppets playing
The game of life!

Eulogize Me

I was 14 years of age when I read, “Elegy written in a country churchyard”. It was at that same time that I knew, one of my biggest wish would be to have someone love me enough to rite an elegy. Soon, as my understanding branched and diverged, I  learnt what separates an elegy from a eulogy and it was then that I knew, I didn’t want a lamentable song of remorse, but I wanted someone to remember me for the smiles I could bring and the ones I wore myself. This is a plea that goes to everyone who knows me in some way or the other.

Life is uncertain; we never know where there are full stops lurking around and which sunrise may be the last that we will ever see. This is one good thing about a blog, You can tell people your wishes and be hopeful that at least someone, somewhere will remember it and do what you thought would be your last wish.

This picture belongs to Anshu Dhamiwal; one of my dearie.

Picture : Anshu Dhamiwal

Picture : Anshu Dhamiwal

Eulogize me,

If not me, 

Eulogize our love

Eulogize the memories

I don’t want to be forgotten

Like the apostrophes and commas

If ever life pulls a sharp full stop;

I want someone to love me enough

To eulogize the lvoe we so often shared

Talk of the times;

When I made you alive

When I could bring a smile

Even when the tears refused to dry

Eulogize me,

If not me, 

Eulogize our love

Eulogize the memories

Keep me alive

Trap me amidst the words

That are sealed in a page

Do not cry over my loss;

Eulogize the happiness we had

Eulgize the silliness 

Think of all those times

When I disturbed you with my questions

Think of the times when I traded my secrets

Think of the times, when my darkness inside

Felt like a ominous place to be

And yet, i held on for one more time.

Eulogize me,

If not me, 

Eulogize our love

Eulogize the memories

Talk of the days we had

Talk of the memories snuggled close

Go on with your life

Find happiness, love and smiles

But, once in a while

On cold wintery nights,

When the snowflakes grace the field;

walk outside,

Look at the sky

Search for that one star

That might not have the brightest shine

But , it looks back at you with a smile

And in that instant;

Think of me,

Think of you

Think of us

And the memories we made;

The ones we could have made

Our friendship tales;

The bonds I craved;

The words I spoke;

Once, twice, three times too;

The answers I was afraid to hear

The tales I never understood

And when these memories wash over you

Do not cry,

Your eyes should not be moistened

But, I want a smile to grace your lips

And murmur, “You will always be missed

You will be like the snow

We so often see but do not feel

When it was here,

I never noticed;

But, now that you’re gone

I wait for a day with you

To hear the senseless rhymes

The nonsense words

The brainless chatter

And the endless talks

One more time”

Eulogize me,

If not me, 

Eulogize our love

Eulogize the memories

I do not know if 

Someone will ever

Miss me enough 

To eulogize me

But, 

Eulogize me,

If not me, 

Eulogize our love

Eulogize the memories

When I am not here

I will still be

Hoping for that one  EULOGY

Of YOU and ME

Because,

I eulogized too many times

When I thought, I had you

But won’t have you.

Eulogize me,

If not me, 

Eulogize our love

Eulogize the memories

Eulogize

Eulogize

Eulogize

Come, Before I Fall

~~Sometimes, a poetry is so much more than just another poetry. Some pieces entail significant emotional investment.. This one did.~~

Ever since I laid my eyes on this picture, I knew what I am going to write.

 

This picture is of one of the smartest person I’ve met online and it is she herself. I don’t intend to call her all of what I will be writing, but of all people, I know she will understand what and why the poetry means. Some pictures do not talk about the person, but about the emotions. Anshu Dhamiwal, you will forever be someone I shall love, regardless of the number of days we go without talking.

eye lash

You see the eyes

But don’t look at the iris

The eyes do smile

But the iris will haunt

The eye lashes flutter

You feel poetry

But don’t look beyond

There’s a rage within

Her eyes are fire

They have been burnt before

She speaks of love

But she is contriving your fall

She is terrified to fall

She has been abandoned by all

She knows beauty

She despises it all

Beautiful people say

Beauty is temporary

But, look at an average

And she will speak

Of the nights she stayed awake

Because

Another beautiful girl took away

The heart which was supposed 

To fall for her

If you’re pretty,

You never question

If your love loves you,

But when you’re not

Every night is a struggle

As you play with your lash

Wondering

Why did your love love you at all?

When there is nothing in you

That can captivate

That can enchant

What if another pretty girl

Strolls along?

Is it not human for him

To let his heart beat

And just like that

Another beautiful girl will rob

Her

Of the tale she had fully scripted

No.

False are the lies

That tell

It’s okay not to be pretty.

Do not believe them.

Or else,

Don’t love.

You ask too many questions

People will leave.

No one stays.

They go.

Pretty girls.

They always take away

That which was never theirs.

 

I play with my eye lashes

You call me beautiful

But am I?

No.

I will never believe

That which I am not.

But, I know you love me

But, the question is how long.

For someone who is poetry,

Beauty shall come your way

Too many fancy faces

Too thick eyelashes

And soon you will forget

I will be a figment

Of yet another tale

That won’t complete

 

So, I pluck my eyelash

One after the other

If I can’t be pretty,

I should stand out

So, that when you leave me alone

You will shudder at the sight of me

 

But, as I clip another lash

The tears begin to fall

No.

I don’t want to scare you

I want to belong

I want you to be there

When my insecurities grow strong

I want you to whisper

That you will love me

Even when I am a hundred pounds and more

Even when I donot have a speck of powder

Even when my skin are dotted with freckles

Even when my eyes are fat with tears

Even when my lashes are all shed and gone

Because you told me, you love my heart

And a  heart has no face

 

Tell me again and again

Tell me before,

I chop all the lashes

And repulse at my reflection

I am not beautiful

But, hearts have never been seen

If you fell for my heart

Let these lashes bleed

I’v read, “Love is blind

Then why do we need the eyes

Tell me you will love me

Even when I have shed it all

 

My lashes can never be

Like the ones you see

On fancy pages of magazines

They will always be ordinary

Like it was supposed to be

My insecurities are strong

I don’t trust myself

I don’t know why you love me

When you could have the ones

Who wear the tall heels and 

Look like a trophy

When you could have the ones

Who looked like movie stars

When you could have the ones

Who could kill with the looks

Tell me once, you love me

For reasons I would believe

Don’t tell me I am pretty

‘coz I know I am not

If you could convince me today,

I want you to repeat it tomorrow

 

Because ever since I knew what forever meant

I’ve seen pretty girls take it all

You won’t understand my fears

Because you have never felt ordinary

It takes an ordinary to know an ordinary

And you’ve always been a poetry

 

Don’t leave me alone

As my insecurities grow strong

I clip another lash

They fall in the hole

Come back to me

Before

I too shall fall

Or wait 

Have you already gone?

Another pretty girl snaps it all.

 

Footnote: I am seriously sorry for the type of depression this poetry oozes. Lately, I’ve been writing a little more of dark tones. For Anshu Dhamiwal, I want to say, you are by all means beautiful and you know I mean it when i say it, but this picture shook me so hard that I wanted to tell the tale of those who are not as blessed.

 

I know, I don’t have to explain.. you will understand.. I am not calling the non pretty girls names too.. yes, people are beautiful in their own ways, but sometimes, it takes a lot of convincing to feel that way… this poetry has solely to do with me and my thoughts.. I am not wishing to call anyone any names here. Those who know me will know that I am speaking the truth, My insecurities are very high… for the rest, i apologize for whatever you think I mean but I don’t.

 

Why? Alright.

This picture belongs to Bhavya Kaushik and I just can’t stop myself from marvelling what one will feel when one witnesses such breathtaking scenes in person. Hop to his blog and you’re going to end up thanking me.

why? alright.

I sit under the starlit sky

And I look up at the moon

Something transpires in the sky

And a song I begin to sing

I know how messed the lyrics are

I know it is not meant to be

And yet, I play with the memories

That suddenly mean so much more

Why things work the way they do?

Why can’t we get what we wish?

Why do people think different?

Why we are so scared to speak?

Why we confess things we wish

And yet coat them with jokes and laugh

When every single word you speak

Is etched in the deepest part of you

Why do people still pretend?

Why is life sometimes so tough?

Why can’t I speak 

That which I wish

And not be scared of what 

Tomorrow will bring

Does the moon answers any of this?

No.

But, just then the day breaks

The sunlight reflects on the 

Mountain peaks 

And

The beauty which we call as 

LIFE

Is felt by the jarred heart

And sometimes this too feels

ALRIGHT

Once Again- Guest Post

This is a guest post by one of my beloved friends Anshu Dhamiwal. She is a beauty. Not just with words, but she is blessed with pictures and a lot of other thing. We connected in a way words can’t explain. This is her picture and the beautifully articulated poem is hers. I LOVE LOVE LOVE you Anshu and this poem is more beautiful in ways I can explain. Catch her blogging here. Show her some love because she deserves all of it and more.blogpoem

Will you break me into your arms?
Like the hands clutching
My spine
Your chest
Bandaging my lacerated heart…
Slash slash
Slash slash slash
You only tore it
As the sun
Swayed from west to east
And in the nights
It did rest bleeding to clotting
Red
maroon
green
purple
then brown,
did you see the fickle colors?
From blues to
Crawls of healing

Ready again to be torn apart
Again
Once again
Every single morning.
Will you please heal me into your arms?
And not leave me
Not again
Not again
Mid way
Waiting from 23:00 to
The next evening,
Crying
Weeping
Not again
Please
Not once again…
Will you please taste my mouth
And pull
Draw
Slurp
My soul ,
yes the soul
and let it stay curled up with yours
sewed
stitched
knited
with yours
let my body die …
let me live in you
for once
for once
just once.
Will you please drink my tears?
Gulp them down slowly
Slowly
Till these settle down in you
Safe
And not wasted ?
Will you please tear a slice
Off a loaf of dry bread
With your fingers and thumbs
And feed me
With your hands
Just once
Only once
Till my soul is contended?
Will you please complete my words?
My voice breaks
Midway in sobs
Please don’t leave
My poetry
Partial
Incomplete
When you can
Make love with my silence.