The Empty House

Change will always be something hard to accept, loneliness will always be impossible to handle and forever will lasts only as long as the moment does. Promises that were once made might alter with time, but that doesn’t mean they were broken. It’s part of life. People come and go, and only a few actually stay. A call brings back memories, so does an empty house. The empty closets, the empty beds, packs and packs of boxes, the dust- they all linger around and bring back the ghost of your past. The house maybe abandoned, but the memories made there always stay back. The voices, the laughter, the fights the music is all soaked and seeps out through the walls resonating whispers and secrets and truths. The moment lasts as if it were a high from the insane root or the poison that you once consumed and before you know it, the sunshine of reality dawns upon you, and all there’s left is silence. Third semester and half of college was over now. This semester had been life changing with the people I met and the places that I had visited. It felt so right, but now it only left me with a helpless feeling, the one you get when you cannot hold onto time. People seem to just move on. Nila understood what I was feeling, she was my only source of comfort as the house seemed cold otherwise. The jokes were now repetitive, the music was monotonous and the conversations were over rated. The only thing I questioned was if I was the only one who had changed, or was it possible that the world had actually changed this time?

Feels Like Home

There were times when I gained confidence from my low state when there were no expectations at all. I found myself in the empty beaches and innocent sunshine that reflected upon the sand. I found solace as I walked down with strangers, the same paths I had walked with people that mattered the most. I was alone yes, and that gave me happiness. I was carefree. Laughing and dancing amongst the most random groups of people, long walks along the sea. Was it because nature was so friendly? It made the dark world around me turn to blue- a happy shade of blue. Whoever I wished to be with was not there. People who had once been there, their space was overtaken by darkness and the quiet rumble of the waves. Even though I missed the past terribly, the dark present made me feel at peace. The few memories gave me light enough to understand certain rules about life. I didn’t want to run away from anything or anyone. I felt I found my place in this maddening world. I felt happy for people. I felt this rush of unexpected energy that made me want to jump up with joy. I knew I could do it. I had learned to move on. Death was no more a great fear. I realized the stars still shined upon me, now even brighter. It was okay to be there, to be who you are. It was alright. Even though I was broke and had just lost my grandfather and was far-far away from family, the strange faces and the breeze felt like home.
I guess I had learned to live alone, I had accepted it. My phase was finally coming to an end. I felt alive again. I felt like doing things- making films, painting, dancing, singing or simply smiling. I understood how much I loved her, and him and my mother. I was happy thinking that. Even though all these thoughts ran past my head, I could never really figure out what or who made me realize that even the darkest corner of the world that had not even a spark of light could be called home, if one was at peace with oneself.
My time with the sea and the hills also made me realize that one never grows up. We are always attempting to. Sure we improve. Sure we learn to give more than to take. But there is a child, an animal in all of us that tells us to run past the waves and onto the cold sand. The child in us never dies, and that I think is a beautiful thing.

PARADOXICAL ME

Every time something or someone falls,
It hurts them, they hit the ground hard
A baby learns to walk after it crawls,
And then falls again, his body scarred.

Something that amuses me
In most situations,
Is plain irony.
Our beer mugs clinked
With joy, I received a call,
I heard a cry.
The moment passed,
My best friend, her grand father
She had lost.

We talked about great stories,
And literature,
I realized that I had been privileged
To be given books that I never read,
When so many children stood deprived,
For which tears they’d shed.

A lover’s unaccepted love,
I tried to console, erase,
His defeat I tried to embrace,
Again I mention irony,
Because he was the one;
The one who betrayed me.

Sometimes you feel that feeling,
Of being dropped from a height
You feel so high, you feel so low
Free falling- my heart witnesses
Space and time alter
My minds premises,
I feel light, almost nothing
I feel solace- just how
An autumn leaf; falls with grace;
Onto the hard floor, but the fall
My dear is light, it doesn’t hurt
But yet it falls into the dirt.
Now isn’t that ironic,
Don’t you think?

The True Joy in Life

"This is true joy in life, being used for a purpose recognised by yourself as a mighty one; the being force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I want to be thoroughly used up when i die, for the harder i work, the more i live. i rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no 'brief candle' to me. i tis a sort of splendid torch which i have got hold of for the moment, and i want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing i ton to future generations."

- George Bernard Shaw

My glass painting

I watched the lively figures dance around me. I heard the laughter my heart ached to hear for many months. The voices and the words spoken, the gestures and the thoughts, the moments were perfect, but something troubled me. My perfect world now seemed to hold as much value as a glass painting held up against a hard wall. It was weak and feeble and could easily be broken into million pieces. It was ignorant and innocent and it paid no attention to the old wall that supported it, it paid attention only to the beholder. The glass painting ever so beautiful glistened as the morning rays embraced it. My glass painting hid itself behind the true light that it reflected off itself. In a room full of people, I felt empty. Amongst loud music, dazzling lights and attractive faces I felt plain. The insane pleasures of the world dint seem to distract me anymore.

I tried to get lost into the story of my painting over and over again but I realized I was the painter and I didn’t need to get lost into it anymore. This was it. It was only a beautiful painting I would like to glance at once in a while. When beauty stops mesmerizing the mind consider the entity jaded.

What did distract me was a tap on my car window as I sat with my friends engaged in useless conversation. The tap was almost a tap on my conscience, and for the first time I felt alive, I witnessed beauty in the beastly world that stood painted outside my window, against no wall, only deep, dark skies.
I saw half a man who balanced himself on a stool and begged for a rupee or two. I noticed the reaction of the others in my car. Then I realized that these people were a part of my beautiful glass painting, and not the world outside. They existed only within big mansions and fancy cars; rich food and glamorous dresses. They were ignorant, just like the painting. I reached out for whatever I could find and handed it to the poor man. What attracted me more than dazzling lights and attractive faces, what held more beauty than my glass painting was the smile he returned to me as he thanked me for the five rupees I handed that half man who balanced himself on a stool. The signal turned green from red, I rolled up my window and shut myself inside the hollowness of my beautiful glass painting, once again.

your voice

Your voice. It brings me to life. It makes me want to escape the hollowness of the world that drags me deeper and deeper into its emptiness with every passing minute. It makes me want to fight again, to fight the darkness and reach towards light. I feel alive. Each whisper of yours adds another breath to my inert body. Your voice serves as my causeway into my own precious world that I have taken my whole life to build with memories and experiences. I often forget about this world, as I am entrapped in the web that this madly spinning world has woven for us. Your voice reminds me of who I really am. There is this void in my life that is created when I can’t hear you or feel your presence and that suffocates me. The sun light feels warmer, and the breeze feels cooler after I’ve spoken to you. Even though you exist miles away from me, I can still sense you right next to me. Your soul travels through your voice and reaches straight into my heart. We’re one when I speak to you. There is a particular higher level we reach, a greater connection that is formed as we talk late into the night. I cannot sleep if I don’t hear your voice. The nightmares of the world unravel upon me and leave me feeling lonely and cold. But then you call, and everything seems fine. My nightmares are then resolved into my dreams. The comfort that your deep voice enthralls upon me leaves me off all my insecurities. I can sleep well like a baby. Your voice itself is my bedtime story that once my father used to narrate to me on foggy winter evenings. The bedtime story which always had a happy ending.

Try and catch me now~ *

I had you for one last time. I wanted to make the most of it. Little by little your memories would fade away from my days just like the dying sunlight fades into the evening dusk or the breath fades away from a dying soul. Little did I know that this time would ever come, but I did it for someone I loved more, there I had a reason. I still believe we were the strongest. I admit that it would take me all my strength to erase you completely and I would be left cold and weak and almost empty, like the remains of wild fire that eventually crumbled into grey ashes in an abandoned fire place.

Like an inanimate object or a pebble that would remain lying on a path for days to come. Yes, I was a pebble. So many people walked over me every day. I also know that something as beautiful such as life should not be crushed by mere decisions of mine. I had no right to do it. I had no right to take away the little life that was left between us. That little life had hardly been nourished with enough love, care and most importantly time. If given a chance,we both know that that life would bloom into something more beautiful than the both of us, but it was little and therefore almost insignificant to the rest of the maddening world. It held promise.

But still, I plan to kill it. Promise meant nothing, and hope held meaning equal to our littal life- it was insignificant. Slowly, subtlely, I will entrap our life and burry it deep into my heart into my thoughts and into my breath. It would cause me more pain to burry it; it would cause more pain to the murderer to take away that life, it would cause me more suffocation and helplessness to get rid of it. I would die along with that life to be reborn into yet a more unfair, unjust and uncomprehendable world.but I will learn to live with it and slowly accept it. It’ll pinch hard, the feeling you get after an injection shot. The realization of which occurs a few seconds later.

You should know that every time I engaged myself with somebody, your thought crossed my head each time, like a shooting star that would light up the vast purple sky for just a moment. It was distance that conspired against us and convinced me to hold up that knife or that rope that I would use to cut and strangle all the moments we spent together.

I never understood why you swung away from me, and then came so close to me without me moving further or closer to you. I stood there all along watching you swing back and forth. Waiting. And something makes me believe that theres no need for an answer to that query. Because everytime you came close to me the world made sense again; and everytime you swung farther away, a hope arose that you would swing back to me, and it kept me going.

You should know that I never meant to wrong you, but you never did ‘right’ to me either.

When reality comes crashing down, we turn to fairytales, but when fairytales crash; I would gather each piece of crystal, each conversation, every look, every smile, every awkward moment, every dance move, every gesture, every laugh, every song, every promise, every car ride, every rose, every note, every memory, every piece of christmas decoration, every season, every rain drop, every sun rise, every tear, every photograph, every call, every starlit night, every particle of beach sand, every place, every dress, every little breeze, every touch, every little light and shut it.

Maybe open it someday to realize that fairytales do exist, even if they’ve been broken. I would have proof. Maybe to feel the essence of sea breeze back in the summer of 2009. Maybe to hear your voice from the past, like when you place a sea shell to your ear and can hear its treasured stories. Maybe to feel loved for the first time all over again. I promise that the light that will shine back upon me from those broken crystal pieces will always reflect a smile on my face and will help flicker happiness in my darkest moments. Then I would take those precious pieces, and burry them once again, it would be our deepest, sweetest secret. It would be my story, our fate -our littal life.

“So I won’t hesitate no more, no more,

I cannot wait, I’m sure,

There’s no need to complicate, our time is short,

This is our fate, I’m yours~”

Like a night in the forest.....

I was supposed to find answers to all that was on my mind. They lingered around me just like the silence of the dark forest. All I could see were flashing lights. It was more like a pathetic dream sequence, one that would make you dizzy and nauseatic. I continued to drag myself up, as I could feel every muscle in my calve stretch and pinch with pain. I kept going, even as I got breathless. I was finally escaping, I was breaking through. I had to do it for myself. My stomach twisted and soon I was facing a cramp. The dry grass cut my fingers gently as I grabbed it to regain my balance. I din’t know anybody around me. The ones I knew lagged far behind. They asked me if I needed any help, but I refused. I wanted to get up on my own, just like every young man or woman strives to. It was killing, but soon i started to get used to it. I realized I was not the only one who was going through struggle, the thought of which comforted me a little. The torch lights continued to flash in and out of my face like the reflections of rays off a mirror. I heard unfamiliar voices all around me. I had to trust them. The last pull was full of vengence. I had made it to the top after a lot of hard work. At first it seemed ridiculous, but as soon as I opened my eyes to witness the height at which I stood with the world glittering below me, I realised the pain was all worth it. I stood there for a moment gazing into the dark expanse. I stood there, slowly getting lost into the maddening world and its miracles. Suddenly I felt somebody behind me. My friend had made it to the top too. I was not alone anymore and the view infront of us grew more meaningful as we shared the vision. The stars were out guiding us with their soft light. We halted for a sip of water that never tasted as sweet and pure. We moved on crossing peak by peak and everytime it was a new adventure, a new experience, a new story that unfolded into the deepness of the forest.

I dint get much time for introspection, only the small brakes we took to when our body seemed to be getting over worked. I realized that was time enough to ponder over my thoughts and my fears. I realized that sometimes you just had to move on with the flow and not think so much. I realized we wasted most of our lives in contemplating, and missing out on the beauty widtheld infront of us.

The night masked everyones face. All I could hear was their voices and the breaths they ran out of. There was a point when time really tested me as I stood stranded on the edge of the mountain. The sadist gravel got carresed as it past through my wet fingers. It slowly slid, as if mocking me, enjoying my helplessness. Making me believe that there was no hope and no one to love me or save me. I hung on for dear life as I prayed to God. It was my weakest moment. I tried holding on until the gravel almost gave way. All that posed infront of me was emptiness, the end of the cliff, making me feel as if all that I had believed in, the hold on for life was worth nothing. I slipped.

When I opened my eyes in disbeleif I was in his arms, completely protected. He held onto me, as if he was holding on to his life. His grip was so promising, that it gave me courage to move on. I stood shocked for a few seconds, voiceless. I felt I could lie in his arms for eternity. We were so close I felt his eye lashes brush upon my wet forehead. Nothing seemed more secure. We comprehended and conversed all there was to be understood between us through our strong breaths. He helped me cross the forest, the wicked forest. We did lose our way, but he never let loose of my hand. He helped me climb up mountain after mountain. He pulled me, dragged me, but never lost faith in me. We never spoke throughout. And in the morning, when the faint rays of the sun sparkled slightly over our faces and when the light finally revealed our truth, I lost him.

The trek was finally over. We had made it. My body throbbed like a broken heart’s beat. There were so many of us, and I could recognize none after an entire night’s journey. It was like the truth was again lost behind the masked men that led us through the dark night. I wondered which face or which hand had carried my life so carefully for those few moments. That’s all I remember from that night. We drove back to our homes to face a new day. The trek would always be like a stained memory. One stained with almost complete darkness. But one that taught me so much about the light of life…

Give me a reason

Part-1

Fantastical teardrops.

Blackouts.

Obsession. Passion.

Beauty and the beast.

Deception. Perception.

Random?

Spiritual. Sex. Raw.

To lure and secure.

Pulse.

Innocence. Promise.

Memories.

Crashing of my world.

Spinning wildly in fire.

Perish of the soul and desire.

Why?

Part 1-

Shattering of a delicate

Glass stained painting.

Millions of mirrors scatter

To reflect our love.

Summer hues and winter tints

All the pain. August rain.

Restlessness of ripples.

A path unfolding into blinding light.

A new way. A new day.

Betray.

A distant shore echoing familiar voices.

Loved ones and friends. Double ends.

Nonsensical choices.

Wind blowing through my knotted hair.

Great despair.

Rocking of a chair. Ticking of a clock.

Possibilities that mock.

Your eyes, your smile.

Comfort for a while,

Nights that go on,

So wild.

Burning passion and desire,

Swaying branches . Liar!

Celebration. Lit up sky-

I know why.

We meet again. Unspoken thoughts.

Black velvet cloths.

The way you look at me-

Truly Maddy Deeply.

****************

Muskaan :)

Snow. White snow.

Sunlight pouring purity.

Sugar kiss, complete bliss.

Such innocence,

Your giggles and whispers,

True love essence.

My little world,

My world is swirled,

When I get lost into

Your eyes,

And deeper with your thought;

Your skin glows, like

Fire flies.

To my empty life,

Happiness you have

Brought.

Baba~

Baba.

Eyes glittering with experience.

calm and composed, yet the restlessness within

to learn, create, to discover.

Bold and upright. A true leo.

Hands aged with recurring touch.

Large and gentle, with a firm grip.

Mind, constantly beating with thought.

A sense of humor in his smile.

A boulder you could rest upon,

Like many travelers have before.

Hair, a silverfish tint of white,

White with grief, and concern, white from glory.

White with purity.

Mind of a warrior,

Heart of a child.

The belief to never let go,

Even though countless aeons have let go of him.

A sigh relived each time.

A walk down the road less traveled.

A fierce bond with natures miracles.

Not easily swayed by the wind,

Still deeply in love with it.

Trying to accept change. Trying. Trying again.

Happiness in small wonders.

A forgotten story.

Warm paranthas and butter, with a variety of sweets.

A winter night.

Family and loved ones around a lit dinner table.

Bit of chatter and sweet talk.

His brown rocking chair,

Rick-rock rick-rock.

Memories.

Memories lay like fickle sand that slowly slips away and finally turns into smooth heavy mud that sinks deep within our hearts and souls. Just as the waves of our mind push those layers of memories deeper and deeper within our conscious mind which eventually get lost somewhere. And on one comfortable night when we’ve sailed away on our ship of dreams or on one sunny afternoon when we’re seeping the suns rays these memories awaken once again, bit by bit to leave us with a feeling of happiness as warm as the sun.

It’s all that’s left in the end anyway, these memories of you and me. They’re imprinted in our minds and hearts and sometimes our body- like foot prints that lie imprinted on the face of wet sand.

And when they awaken once again they seem to be as fresh as the morning breeze that brushes past my entangled hair. We seem to relive them and they appear as alive as the morning sea against the peach sunlit sky, as we get lost into the blueness of the water.

They linger for a moment or two, leaving those dull moments to become the sweetest ever. You smile to yourself, and suddenly they’re over before you know it. It pinches you, like the salt of sea water.

You rub your eyes to hold onto that slipping memory. The one that forms such a beautiful view in front of your pleading eyes. One such as the view from a balcony facing the river side. All you can do is gaze in amazement as that memory merges with reality, just as the burning orange ness of the sun melts into the darkened purple waters, there in the distance. Just as you watch the remains of light disappear into black magic, as the sun finally sets somewhere far-far away from you.

Angel~

Different forms and faces,

People and people from different races,

My heart paces,

Then, I see her.

With her presence she graces,

My heart and soul she embraces,

Of my fears and confusions,

And helplessness and illusions

She leaves no traces.

Of this I form no basis,

Because she disappears again,

As if a dream,

Still, I feel her warmness,

Still, I feel her gleam.

Different forms and faces,

Angel from unheard places,

Fill up my empty spaces,

Then,

Comfort me again~

Farewell.

Farewell kisses and goodbyes,

I despise.

A new beginning awaits us,

The soul is captured within the heart,

Thus.

Shimmering stars greet us,

Their light is reflected in

Our tears,

So many fears, within

Us.

The past shines upon,

That same old face,

A new motive,

To live, to erase,

What lies beneath.

The heart continues,

To beat.

Tangled thoughts renew,

Scheming to meet

Deep desires.

Stuck in

Life’s mire,

The child’s grin

Unable to restore,

Mild, innocent wishes,

Walks along the shore

Like entering its

Gallows,

It’s shallow.

The magic of

The world begins

To fade,

Times of yore, once jade,

Are now frayed.

The soul is revived,

A sudden gush of breath,

The former self, died.

A birth takes place,

A fresh start,

We part,

Our different ways.