Inspiration, philosophy, Poetry

I don’t miss home,

Of course I don’t miss home,
Though it’s cold out here but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I miss the warmth.
Of course I don’t miss home,
Yes, I confess that the green bed of my dorm,
The matching duvets and pillows aren’t as somniferous as the violet hues of my room,
The humongous pin board bears such a vast scope for creativity,
But I admit it seems that I have left it all behind on the walls of a small place that I am not supposed to think much about.
But still I don’t miss home,
Not when I look through my tiny window and remember how large it used to be.
I don’t miss home,
I am too happy to bear such delusions,
After all the beauty of my surroundings hasn’t even sunk in,
The notion that I might be sharing same time and same space as this place still lies dangling as a mad hypothesis,
I haven’t properly forgotten the crowds, the dust, the hot weather of the past,
I haven’t even forgotten the sweat, the noise, the boredom, the four walls confining my life,
I haven’t forgotten that the food wasn’t always this tasteless,
I haven’t forgotten that the water used to cheaper than alcohol,
I haven’t forgotten about the time I had to waste,
I haven’t forgotten the anticipation, the butterflies, the apprehensions,
Regarding what that could now be called my present,
I haven’t forgotten much,
Despite being here,
I haven’t forgotten anything at all.
Though the dates in my calendar keeps rapidly changing,
Perhaps I can sit here listening to the same downtrodden playlist,
With my pen and a few things in my head to reminisce,
I can sit here for eternity or so it seems,
I can sit here pretending that the time is frozen.
So I don’t miss home.
I don’t miss it at all.
When I wake up tomorrow,
It would still be incredibly hard to believe
That I am here
Miles away,
In a strange beautiful land,
With strange people,
Under strange circumstances.
Some call it bold,
Some call it cowardly escape,
Some call it love,
Some call it outrageous stupidity,
Some exclaim in disbelief,
Some silently mutter in jealousy,
Some say “You don’t deserve it.”
Some say, “You are worth every penny.”
Some, so many,
All these people in my head,
Who travelled overseas on free tickets with me,
An entire world,
An infuriating celestial miracle,
Obnoxious electrochemical reactions inside my brain,
These people and I,
My room, my pen, the blue blue sky,
Beautiful things, beautiful places, beautiful beautiful faces,
That I peek through my invisibility cloak,
That I look at in wonder,
That I look at with curiosity,
That I look at in boredom…
Happy places, laughing faces,
Of course,
Of course it’s too early to miss home,
Too early to miss the recent past,
Too early to miss the current present.

What is this?
I,
Caught up in a few fucked up tenses,
Trying to make some decent sentences,
Stringing along the pearls of words,
Trying to weave a good fabric through some odd phrases,
Living the life,
Denouncing it at the same time,
Awed, and indifferent,
Amazed and hurt.
How nice! How wonderful!
How enigmatic! How treacherous!
How confusing! How difficult!
A simple question;
A lost answer,
And all this adventure in between –
“What do you want, dear heart?”

***

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Poetry

Human Skin

Is it just the human skin?
Or is it the character altogether?
Because each year,
In fact each day,
I find that I am growing more stupid along the way,
Each day, each minute,
I find myself to be a bit different, possibly better or so to say,
Each minute, each second,
The change in my thoughts are growing rampant,
Each second, each moment,
Despite being the same,
The very same,
I realize I couldn’t have changed more,
Like my perceptions,
Like my reflections,
Like my age,
Like my skin.

***

P.S. Wrote this honoring the fact that the human skin gets completely changed around 900 times during the average human lifespan.

philosophy, Poetry

Let her explode.

My oh my!
Look at that girl,
Look at that girl being so shy,
Reserved, antisocial, the one who doesn’t give a damn,
The cool one, the coolest one,
who doesn’t have the fear of “missing out”
Ah! Trapped inside the shell,
despite being outside it,
often, so often, so often!
How does it feel to lose your character?
One thing that you thought you are,
One thing that you thought you accepted!
But wait, oh wait!
Your acceptance escaped!
Now, your definition is running short of words,
How would you find your meaning now?
How would you find it all over again?
My oh my!
Look at that girl,
Look at that girl being not so shy,
Outspoken, carefree, mingling, friendly,
A genuine smile that doesn’t deny-
That doesn’t deny the voice within,
That doesn’t deny the things that could have been,
That doesn’t deny the moment right here,
That doesn’t deny the fact you care.
Ah! A genuine fictitious smile!
Damn. That girl.
Help her? Save her? Protect her?
But how would you see the fireworks then?
Let her explode instead.

***

philosophy, Poetry

A love letter

Dear,
How scandalous and embarrassing of me to anticipate for the day when I will be able to speak to you again,
when you are not supposed to exist,
when your charm is something I should easily resist!
But look how glittering you are!
Even the dawn can’t make your presence disappear!
How tempting it is to touch you,
even though it’s a common knowledge how toxic you are!
How attractive it is to pursue you,
even though it’s widely known how forbidden you are!
O Honey! O Darling!
Why mustn’t you desert my heart?
You bring death to my life,
You bring life to my death,
You bring love, you bring hate.
You bring joy, you frustrate!
You destroy, you create.
Are you even real?
How embarrassing and scandalous of me to be influenced by you so much,
Wasn’t my life already complicated enough?
No, it is pointless to accuse you!
Because I think you make my life simpler instead.
You are blood into my veins,
Air that I could breathe,
Despite your debatable actuality,
You mean,
You exist,
As if nothing else matters.

***

philosophy, Poetry

Dead lives,

Dead lives, dead leaves,
Scattered across the grey streets,
On a soulless journey to nowhere or everywhere
with the winds sweeping them onto different destinations
With the time decaying them back into life;
Just so they could fall lifeless once again.
What do you hope to find in this circular maze?
How are you different from other carbon corpses?
Dead eyes, dead voice,
After all, a beating heart was never your choice!
Like the stones, like the deepest ocean bed,
You are silently waiting for the end ahead.
Hush!Hush!Hush!
Don’t think it too loud!
Hush!Hush!Hush!
The stars might overhear!
Time might end today or after infinity,
But the blood must continue running stale in your veins
The thoughts must wander lost always.
Dead leaves, dead lives,
sleeping indifferently on the streets at nights.
Make sure there’s never anything to see
Make sure that the eyes are always wide shut
For if they blink open, if they ever do,
It will all come fiercely rushing through,
in all its unfairness,
tearing apart your blissfully protective wall of indifference-
The storming life,
The warrior love,
valiantly destroying your ignorant existence,
Your living death.

***

food for thought, philosophy, Poetry

I am an Alien

Beautiful places, beautiful people, beautiful pictures
And I am not a part of it
Despite being a part of it
My existence – dusted at some neglected corner
not meant to be discovered,
I stand silent, trying to admire, trying to convince
that I am in love with what lays before me
An ineffective camouflage for how really detached I feel
In my head, I am already miles away
Though I stand right here
In my head, I am already mourning the separation
Though I haven’t felt a single ounce of love for your company
In my head, I am crying over an alternate future
Though I can’t even admire the present.
Beautiful pictures, beautiful places, beautiful you!
Would you call me insensitive?
Is my heart really a stone?
Never overwhelmed or underwhelmed
I am just whelmed
Not too happy, not too hurt, not too furious
I anticipate a storm inside
But there’s no destruction
There’s no scope for creation
For a poet –
I am surprisingly devoid of turbulences
Maybe I am being too harsh
Maybe I am being too vain
All this meaningless rant –
Beautiful pictures, beautiful places, beautiful people!
And I am not a part of it
Despite being a part of it.
I am an alien and I couldn’t be more ordinary.

*

humour, Poetry

An Ode to the Deadlines

So long I had postponed
Owing to the mispositions of stars
Or maybe the urgency to complete utterly unnecessary tasks
A day after another after another after another
Until you came finally,
As you had, once upon a forgotten time, forewarned
So, here’s to the panic
to the parade of chaos that you have brought along
to the adrenaline rush
to the songs of forbidden words
to the regret of wasted yesterdays
No, no prayer to be sung to the goddess of procrastination today!
No! Don’t you dare, you treacherous mind!
Today isn’t a good day
Today is the DEADLINE!
The day where the work of 10 months is compressed in 72 hours
So, here’s to the supernatural productivity
To the last minute short cuts
To the funny gods
To the funnier prayers
To the fake promises
To a distant dream of equal work division over time
Commutimism as they call it
And finally to completion of the since long incompleted
Scribbled, battered, stiched along the odd edges
Ugly, with gruesome scars of laziness
But who cares about the beauty though?
At least the end is here!
We will start the next project tomorrow.
Or maybe the tomorrow after tomorrow
Or the tomorrow after that
But for now we are done!
Ready to repeat our mistake all over again
With a false and yet believable hope let’s completely forget the stress and pain,
Of course, we are going to be alright,
As long as we celebrate the ending and not the perfection
My lazy ‘this-would-do-just-fine’ success brought by an odd hero of mine!
What would I do without you my beloved deadline?

***

 

30 Days writing challenge

Day Thirty One – The last one

I had the hardest time thinking about what to write in this one. It’s the last one, after all! How should it be?
Should it be a happy one?
A hopeful one?
A weird one?
A sad one?
A grateful one?
A special one?

Of course, I couldn’t figure it out. So, pardon me for being a bit insolently happy that here it ends. Here, take a lazy one! Thank the fuck god.

***

AUTHOR’S LITTLE NOTE:
This blog series is a part of a 30 Days writing challenge, which is as depicted by the picture below (Special thanks to Pinterest):
Writing challenge - May'17
30 Days writing challenge, Poetry

Day Thirty – Sunglasses

I can see people looking at you
(Myself included)
I am busy finding flaws in the perfect shade of your lipstick
My jealousy refusing to admit my futile efforts in doing so
My weeping flats and your proud stilettos,
My over-sized jeans and your figure embracing dress,
My disheveled backpack and your ultra-stylish handbag,
My neglected hair and your pampered locks of ocean waves
How do I stop making note of these stupid details?
Of how I keep glancing through my nerdish unclean spectacles
At your insanely seductive and infuriating sunglasses.
You, beautiful witch.

*

AUTHOR’S LITTLE NOTE:
This blog series is a part of a 30 Days writing challenge, which is as depicted by the picture below (Special thanks to Pinterest):
Writing challenge - May'17
30 Days writing challenge, Poetry

Day Twenty Nine – Nom de plume

Nom de plume
For escaping into being someone you wish to,
Or into someone you wish you weren’t,
Or someone you truly are
Or someone you simply aren’t
Or for those stories
which your name can’t associate with itself,
For your cowardice and enigma
Or simply for your general dissatisfaction against your original nomenclature.

Nom de plume.

*

AUTHOR’S LITTLE NOTE:
This blog series is a part of a 30 Days writing challenge, which is as depicted by the picture below (Special thanks to Pinterest):
Writing challenge - May'17