Unloving Someone

Can you, can anyone stop loving a person at any point of time? Like, “I am done, I don’t like this person anymore?”

Whoever it is, a friend, a lover, a teacher, one can never unlove. One can never tell oneself to not feel for someone.

And moving on? We just stop expecting out of people. Stop waiting. Quit all our hopes and accept the way we want someone might just remain a fantasy.

We don’t stop loving. We stop expecting any scenario with the person, anything together.

That’s how we move on!

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Hope

 

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I had looked forward to a dream. Something I was so in love with. I yearned, I waited everyday. Yet when I had it, it was all in pieces, broken apart.
And then, when I least expected, I had hope. Smiling at me and saying, “here here, I am with you.”
Even when nothing made sense, I know soon it all will.

Kaash Ki Mai Likh Pata

Kaash ki mai likh paata

Yeh uljhan, udaasi, zindagi
Aakhir ha kya yeh sab?
Kyun, kuch bhi samjh nahi aata?
Kaash ki mai likh pata

Yeh dooston ke aaye din
naye chehre; naye jhagde
Yah duniya ke badalte rang
Kaash ki mai likh paata

Aasmanon ki tarah dil bhi dikhayi kyun nahi dete
Ki baadal hain, andhera hai,
chaand hai?
Kaash ki mai likh paata

Aur us doobte suraj ki manind
Yeh dil agle din, phir ubhar kyun nahi aata
Kaash ki mai likh paata
Kaash ki mai likh paata…

Of Grief

After the talk; prospects of loss,
death, and grief
Of life without

I sit in a garden

Looking for a four-leaf clover;
calming my storms
You stirred inside

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

 

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

 

Looking for Solace!

Have you ever felt like the skies came crashing onto you? Like everything just went haywire? Like everything that one had planned was splashed with water and now all the color, the ink, the plans are washed out? Like everything that ever mattered no more exists?

What does one do? How does one fix the skies? How to put the broken pieces up there again? What glue to use? Would the pieces stick to each other like before? Would the glue be strong enough to prevent it from falling again? Would this pain be just once in a lifetime experience? Could it be?

And on top of everything, there are these people called writers. Overtly emotional. Always on the verge of tears. Broken with the slightest touch and hurt by a pinprick. What do such people do? Where do they find their solace, their peace? Is there anything like peace for them?

Is there solace?