And no one laughed.
I found that funny.
And no one laughed.
I found that funny.
written on a paper,
carefully placed within a file
in the shelf
that is locked.
Just so you don’t even read it by mistake
And start following it for heaven’s sake!
Under my ignorant understanding of the world,
And pitiable generalization of humanity,
I find myself openly craving for this amazing trait.
Could be that what once we saw as ‘expectations’,
Had just been an evidence for how one once cared,
But nevertheless, solicitousness is engraved with sin
And unnecessary hurt
And unnecessary pain
Indifference is something to celebrate!
Indifference is happiness, isn’t it?
But what’s this blue thought creeping in my head?
We have come a long way of progression –
But how did we come to be living in the world where apathy is considered to be the coolest thing to possess?
Is what I often think all my thoughts are
Wearing a façade of temporary originality.
But in a population of seven billion,
Originality is overrated anyway.
is the signal that I should ideally be sending
Because the need to abandon you seems quite apparent.
But at the same time, how do I get rid of my ferocious temptation?
How do I get rid of my ecstatic obsession?
I admit I might be required to be rescued,
I agree I might not be completely sane,
But wouldn’t you throw an act of blind faith just once again?
I can’t differentiate between distress and endearment,
So, here I stand at the juncture of choices;
To be or not to be—
I remember I had been a blank page once
I remember having enjoyed that kind of independence;
Being an open forum
For a doodle, a diary entry, a poem, a couplet, a story, a scrapbook, a sketchbook
And further endless possibilities that I wasn’t even aware of!
Things that I mysteriously cherished no longer exist.
How do I explain my feint & margin?
It was never a choice,
I remember I rebelled
But I must have been overlooked
I must have been overheard
The ink that was inflicted on me
After all, bore good intentions
Intentions that predicted that I would be written upon always
With some scientific formulae or literal allegories
I am supposed to a student’s best friend
Nurturing his education,
Building his success,
But rather I am covered in drools
Or sentences that don’t make sense
Or scribblings carved out of frustration
How do I explain my feint & margin now?
It must have been overlooked,
It must have been overheard,
You see? Your forceful dreams or foretelling abilities can’t really change my destiny
Feint, Margins and I couldn’t have been more blank.
And all those movie inspired fantasies shattered –
(A few pieces of them are still lying to be swept off the floor)
When I was held close
Repeatedly told how amazing I was
And when I was first kissed
The world might have stopped
People might have disappeared
I might have heard the most beautiful musical notes in my head
Falling, melting, surrendering to his arms
I might have slipped into a space time continuum
That I didn’t.
After another late night hearty dialogue with my mother, as I lay beside her wrapped in her arms, I ask god once again – What did I ever do to deserve her?
She implants another kiss on my forehead filled with pride. I am sinking beneath the wave of happiness and bewilderment – How could she believe in me more than I do? How is she capable of doing this? How does she have so much love to give away?
I wonder how does the nature manage to store so much love in its servers. God chuckles and replies back in my colloquial language, “This is not it, you know! When it comes to a mother’s love, our servers work in a magical way. Years might pass away and yet you would be far from completing the download! All that will blink on the screen of your life is a pop up menu that says; (Still) Downloading…
That’s how huge that file is. You ask me the exact size? You really think I would know?”
Away from the concrete jungle
I stay tugged in green,
Away from the honk and horns
I stay lulled by the sound of the silence
Away from the dust or drainage
I stay intoxicated by the smell of the forest
There are no trains to catch or any buses to miss
There aren’t any appointments to make
Or calls to take
Time is still
And I have nothing but a bucket full of moments
Hadn’t I put so many efforts to be here?
In this camp?
Away from the worries
Hadn’t I hoped to stay busy counting the stars,
And sharing strange stories with strangers?
But where has my excitement gone over the fact that the clock finally doesn’t tick!
Staring at the moon, I miss the night lamp refusing to admit that I might be… homesick.
I stare, with repugnance at the little girl, uncannily resembling me from the past, and how she gulps down the Orange fizz, too sweet to even be tasted, with such obnoxious enthusiasm.
I stare in disgust – How the young woman, somewhat resembling me or rather how I think I might look in the future, gulps down the golden brown fizz, too bitter for even a sip, with such nauseating excitement.
How things change!