Oblivion

This oblivion. Sometimes it is good.
Many times, like now, it is killing
Like it were alive.
Stabbing and jeering at us. As if we have been enemies since centuries

 

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Yearnings…

Beloved, would you ever be mine?
And for that matter, what is mine?
What would you do, or we do, that makes you mine. And me yours?

What kind of abstract thought is this? This being mine and yours?

Neither of us can possess each other and yet I am yearning for belonging.
Would a name tag do?
But I never wanted to change my name. Neither would I.
There is nothing like my name and your name together in my mind and yet I want to belong to you somehow.

What do I do?

Have I told you how I have fantasized about our kids? The adopted ones?

Nah, I didn’t adopt multiple kids. Just one. With you.
Mother and father.

And he stays with me on vacations. With you rest of the time…
Sometimes we all spend time together. Like a month or so.
I convince you to stay and school him from my place. We stay a year together…

I forgot to write about this. I told you about the letters, didn’t I?

Ah! Beloved… What have you done to make me ready to leave behind everything?
What is it that I can do away with everything in this moment?

Free of the Stabbing Pain

You know that fancy,
Having a broken glass in hand
Sharp, and striking it through the wrist
Over and over again!

Tearing everything in the path
The threads, the skin, veins
Gushing blood and moments of pain
Counting till the last

Visions of all the was
the knives that stabbed
cups, full of poison
and that helplessness…

And now free, free of everything
Free of all the stabbing pain

 

Adamant

So, when we shed tears we are removing the hormones that tend to make us sad.
We are built to vent things out, to let things go.

And yet we, a huge chunk of us, is adamant on keeping it all in. Bottling things up.
The very nature of us to go against the nature of us!

Path

It was a beautiful day. An amazing company. Shared laughter. While one conversation was leading to another, he asked: “What plans do you have for yourself?” “None”

Plans. Unknowingly he had now touched the raw nerve he talked about a few days earlier. Plans. What she wanted to do with her life. Which direction she wanted to choose. What paths did she desire to walk?

Very few people had bothered about this. Her desire. What she wanted to do with her life. And yet, amongst those few people, her family never featured. It was twice that someone wanted to help her. That the destination had been fixed, so let’s find the path together. Let’s walk together.

There couldn’t have been any sound better than that sentence. “I will show you how to.” And it still remained a mystery to her. Was it her naivety or was the person too convincing? Or was she too desperate to arrive that she drank from all cups offered? Never differentiating, never trying to probe whether it is water or poison.

A part of her did feel poisoned. Cheated. Like being promised of a dessert and getting a toffee. The path promised did exist but it lead elsewhere. Her desire, her dream, her destination was too far from the path she was trodding upon. A part of her always grieved. Maybe she should have probed more. What fun was it walking with people who wouldn’t even understand? Who mocked her? Her passion? What did they know? Had they themselves ever yielded anything from their labor of love? Just how could they?

And here she was, with another hand to take her there. The path seemed better. Familiar. Things she should have been doing for long now, but wasn’t. But a part of her was still hurt. Still afraid. Still wondering where this rendezvous would take her to.

Reflection

Thoughts manifest into reality
the feeling you give out
comes back to thee

Numb, lost, immature
unable to comprehend
what world, emotions
This emptiness!

I sought answers; road to my destination
the burden of questions heaving onto me
attempts to shake off everything
friends with solitude; company!

What would reflect back, I wonder!
Emptiness? Numbness? The answers I seek?
A detailed map to my destiny?
Some moonbeams as company?

The dark veil of moonless nights
Untreatable sleeplessness
Shroud for all the misery

 

For How Long

I had someday, against nature
taken that one step; dreaded
I knew all that could go wrong
impacts, outcome

Nevertheless, I found the courage
for once to risk it all
the reward too lucrative
for once, vulnerability ceased

A surge of courage, strength
a step towards the dreaded journey
Fear, excitement, adrenaline
How does it sound?

Ever witnessed flight of a bird
a broken wing, nearing death?
It breaks into flight, not merely for its sake,
to escape… Alas!

Why didn’t it know its fate?
the flight of a broken wing
How far could courage take
or service of a fake smile?

I repeatedly ask myself
“For how long?”

Chained to Chores

Busy, bustling, daily chores
A life full of demanding more’s
Ah! The clock goes too fast
Just can’t do enough!

With hands full, I hear a call
A familiar, cherished voice
somehow it felt different
So wrong, painful

I look back, the source of the voice
Dad crumbling, drenched in sweat
something seems utterly wrong
the panic on his face

I run, trying to get a hold of him
save the fall, the anguish
But midway something hinders my run…
A chain round hand.

I try jostling it away
breaking free and going over
somehow seems too strong
Ah! What do I do…

Somewhere I comply, negotiate
I get timeouts and return back…
like a dutiful slave!

 

 

I am Near

I had cried hard someday,
“Where are you,
Call me back!”
The promise of “I am Near”

There was no voice reciprocating
no condolence, no light
I knew no better
The promise of “I am Near”

Shattered, in pieces
I yearned for light
I called, “When?”
The promise of “I am Near”

All the forms of care I knew
communication, touch
the yearning of His caress
The promise of “I am Near”

I had thought of fatherly strokes,
His hands on my head
Ah! my innocence, expectations
The promise of “I am Near”

And days later, I looked beyond
tears that had blurred vision
Ways He had reached out
The promise of “I am Near”

That sudden song I never heard before
That poem titled “Sawaal”
That recurrent dream, giving solace
The promise of “I am Near”

A sudden thought of hope,
A distant ray of light
The hand that said, “I am”
The promise of “I am Near”

No, the ways weren’t what I thought
He didn’t stand in front, embracing
physically He was never there
The promise of “I am Near”

And yet, all I could see was Him
in every breath, His presence
Managing my affairs through someone
The promise of “I am Near”