Sunday, 27 March 2016

The bond that was!

Rip me apart
Shred me into pieces
But help me forget
Your naughty teases.

You were mine
I was yours
Together we invited
This useless chaos.

I haven't heard
My heartbeat
I haven't felt my
Heart break either.

For my heart
Is still your possession
And you've still kept it
To your disposition.

The colors you see
On my canvas
Is just another lie
For its all black now.

We had our share of blacks
But blacks with you
Were as glittery as
The silver, itself.

We're all broken
Dismantled pieces of
A jigsaw puzzle
Who will never be made.

Let me find
My little solace
In this blissful pain
For that is all I now can gain.

Dodging numbness
Fearing light
Have I ran out of
My own sight?

Craving and waiting desperately
For your sight
Have I forgotten
The excuses of my delight?

Saturday, 26 March 2016

Out of love - 46!

Firm gifting letters which would overflow with emotions to now parceling gifts without a message, the only thing that had escalated in our bond was your bank balance!
She smiled and I healed.
Only if destroying memories was as easy as creating and cherishing them.
Lost faith, felt dead, pretended to live and hence smiled.
She knew she had my controls, yet played with them carelessly.
The only thing I have ever ignored is the number of times you have ignored me.
Don't stay if you don't wish to, but return me what I was.
our bond was gone the day our silent conversations transformed into misunderstood vocal conversations.
I couldn't lose, you didn't want to win, together we decided to just be.
I wasn't born a sinner, I was made one.

Thursday, 24 March 2016

You and I!

It's strange how you and I
Used to walk and dream together
But now can't stand each other.

We had different infinities then
We have different infinites now
But you and I aren't we anymore

I am not what I was
You are not what you were
And so we aren't what we were

I crave for you
You crave for me too
But our egos scrap our cravings now

There are times when
I die a million times to see you
But all you see is another version of you

I'm not perfect,
Neither are you
But together we were the perfect imperfection

You aren't dead
I'm not alive
Can we get rid of this pretentious breather?

I can't message you
You can't call me
Let's pretend to be strong till our little infinity

This doesn't make sense
It never will
For you and I were senseless, since forever.

Wednesday, 16 March 2016

Out of love - 45!

Either cement those gaps or just let them be. It's a void and hence pretend to avoid.
The heart which resides in my body never really belonged to me.
I'm neither the person you see nor the soul which I wish to project.
The glow in her eyes was like a drop of magical portion which seeped through and magically healed the already drenched soul of unwept tears.
Healer's smile, beyond divine.
Constants became temporary and the wounds transformed themselves into scars. 
As the grey ticks turned blue, the heart that used to beat started bleeding.
Back then I feared pain, today all I fear is that why does my pain not pinch me. Have I become numb already? 
If an artist forgets to die a bit everyday then the spirit of art might die! 
From being always availabe to now being almost not reachable; it was a tough transition from being a broken soul to being a selectively numb structure.

Tuesday, 15 March 2016

Stress with a smile!

There is something
About stress
That I really like
The uneasiness
The restlessness
That craving to
Move out of the situation
That thing which urges me
To move away from stagnation
There really is something
Strange and beautiful
About stress.

Those jitters
And the unwept tears
With that little tinch
Of loneliness
That makes it
Painful and wretched
I like it
It makes me a
Better artist
That essence of rage
Gets converted into
Gorgeous master pieces.

Yes! I like it
For hating it
Doesn't make sense

Monday, 7 March 2016

Out of love - 44!

Pretend to embrace the colours that I crave to show you as I unveil my dark soul.
The wounds that can't be diagnosed are the ones which hurt the most.
Sat together after days to have a meal together, ended up sharing smiles and filled themselves with memories. 
Knew each other inside out yet lied everyday only to help each other exist. They were each others strength and weakness. 
A couple of problems here and there, everything else seems to be fine, said the  doctor. Little did he know, the real problem was something no test could diagnose. 
Wanted to portray universe on paper, ended up drawing your eyes. 
Unkempt hair, bruised feet, wrinkled face and the brightest smile of this universe. She pretended to look ugly, didn't know how blissfully gorgeous she was.
From unknown to lesser known to acquaintances to sorta friends and then finally to a one sided lover. It was a journey of subtle smiles to hidden tears.
You know you are my strength and you know I have a high threshold for pain. You ignore, and I just realise how elastic my pain endearing skill is
Every time you treat me like an unwanted being in your life, I tend to lose a bit of myself. 

Just another fearer!

It's strange how they think I play well with the colours. I am one of those who hates the very essence of the colours that surround. This is not because I don't like them, this is simply because it reveals a lot more than what I want to see and believe. Colours are that ugly medium which pretend to beautify things but end up revealing your dark side to yourself. It is strange how colours take that liberty of showing my unwept tears while I have been working hard on smiling all day.
I am not an artist, I will never be one. It's just strange that I fear two things in the universe i.e. MIRROR and COLOUR.
Being one of those who would never want to accept things the way they are, I feel it's quite obvious to fear the mirror. At times I feel it's the combination of mirror and colour which has made all of us so helpless.
In an era in which we pretend to live while all we do is breathe and function like a machine; it is this brutal colour which wants to break the monotony and probably wants you to feel the good, the bad and the ugly. The mirror, in front of which you stand tall everyday while combing your hair, tucking in your shirt etc only to help yourself accept that you look presentable for the world that doesn't even give a damn about your existence. How many times have you pretended to ignore the dark circles under your eyes or the wrinkles on your cheeks. And in case by chance you tend to embrace it which again is a very possibility all you tend to do is ignore yet again.
Ignorance is bliss this say, ignorant is surely at bliss, usually; however the ignored is usually screaming and screeching silently. The other day as I stood in front of the mirror I saw a lot of things in my reflection which I didn't want to see. Like, a couple of white hair on my head, deep dark circle and the marks of those wounds which I have been pretending to ignore. I am no artist or perfectionist. I have my own flaws which I pretend to be okay with.
It is in such times you start cursing the colour and the mirror, for showing you what you want to ignore. Obviously, colour and the mirror aren't as joyous as your salary cheque but nonetheless are equally essential.
It's laughable how our very own reflection tends to demoralise us every damn day. The colours which our soul wants to show are the ones which we want to hide. To keep it simple let's just say self and the employed self are two very different people. Employed self believes ignorance is bliss whereas Self has always suffered because of the pain that ignorance brings along!

Wednesday, 2 March 2016


You know what?
I love to hate
This feeling of
Pretending to be

I'm not fine
Nor are you
We are fooling each other.
And ourselves too.

We don't have to
We don't need to
But, we still do.

I'm a fool
And, so are you
Maybe we are just
Used to pretending
To be fine.

What is fine?
Who is fine?
Why do I have to be fine?
Why do you have to be fine?

Why can't I be
Not fine at times
Why can't I be
Crazy all the time.

I am what I am
And fine is what it is
I'm not fine
And fine is not me  either

We're different
And our difference
Is what makes us different
I'm something
You're different something
But none of us our
Something called