Souvenirs.

I've wasted far too many tears on

someone like you,

who refused to see the daylight in

my eyes,

who refused to shine even when

there were no storms

in the sight,

look at my arms,

my neck,

and perhaps my heart,

you've left far too many scars,

but after all these scars and bruises,

I still let you devour me in full,

see the problem is,

there will always be far too many tears and

far too many scars,

and we'll learn to call them far too many

souvenirs

when we shouldn't,

see the problem is, we still call them our

souvenirs,

when they just aren't.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlF8eYNn6Uk

The Park Bench.

There is a blue bench in a park nearby,

it is old, slightly broken, and I wonder

how many grueling seasons it withstood,

and still is,

it makes funny faces at me,

no, it’s not a figment of my imagination,

it’s real,

as real as you and me,

its ends are chipped,

kids leave paint blotches on it,

and it’s really beaten out of shape,

despite all the mess it is,

plants grow on each of its legs,

flowers of colours yellow and purple bloom

over it,

it’s real,

as real as you and me,

but do you think we can bloom amidst

all the muddle we’ve created?

do you think we can withstand the tough seasons as well?

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yjJ-2L15rg

Love In the Time of Parenthesis.

I loved you with the wonder of exclamation marks,

never with an uncertainty of question marks,

and absolutely never with the conditions of asterisks,

even in between the commas and periods,

I minced my adoration in words and sent it to you

with underlines and double quotes,

on days when we went without dialogues and

maybe colons,

or existed in the form of ellipses

I hoped we could fall back into a state of normalcy even

if it meant through strokes and parenthesis,

but you?

you just never cared to read in

between the lines.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cL4uhaQ58Rk

Things I Should Accept.

My mother often warned me that my imaginations were too overbearing,

and that I was setting myself up for several series of disappointments,

I assured her that my palms were filled with pixie dust and I blew it into the face of my dreams,

my fingers often traced me back to things that weren't good for me,

books that made me cry, movies that kept me awake in the nights and boys that mercilessly broke my heart,

but I was oddly satisfied

as I went through life with an unapologetic fervour,

I guess I was setting myself up for grand breakdowns and signed up for stories where I never belonged,

she asked me to play safe,

to be cautious and guard my heart,

lock it away from bad things and throw the key away,

instead, I cut my heart open,

loved with a love that was more than love,

bled through my words

built home between the could-bes and the should-bes,

and then, I stopped watering the plants in my balcony,

looks like my mother was right,

I dreamed of nurturing someone else's flowers by ignoring mine,

by opening doors at places where even Sun refused to shine.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3AtRBlRQ-I

INTERLUDE.

Someday,

I might stop remembering the sound of your laugh,

I might stop knowing your scent,

I might stop smiling to the tone of your sleepy voice,

I might stop recollecting how sometimes your smile

doesn't reach your eyes,

I might stop telling you about my day in detail,

I might stop looking at your pictures and wonder

what you must be doing,

or what you must be reading,

or if you are writing one of your delightful little stories,

I might stop asking you absolutely anything,

I might stop having the urge to send you little notes,

I might even stop trying to read between the lines,

and then slowly, someday,

I might stop hurting when I learn to unlove you,

maybe I could,

maybe I should,

but till then,

you're all I think about.

Tune for tonight: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQeMxWjpr-Y

Spring.

When you're desolate, angry, and alone

take my hand and put it on your heart,

tall promises of fixing you aren't my forte,

but I will hear your heartbeat,

make you feel alive,

because that's the greatest luxury we can own sometimes.

When you're gleeful, cheerful, and basking in glory,

try, maybe try and look into my eyes across the room,

I don't want you to fill the space between us with words,

I'm happy sharing the silence of everything that's unsaid

even if I say otherwise.

When you're distant and you have no clue of what's happening around you,

look into the sunset,

cry if you must,

and know that you're loved and this world is barely beautiful without you.

When you're burning with desire,

but your feet refuse to go everywhere your heart leads you to,

remember, just remember that sometimes the Spring has to bloom somewhere else too.

Tune for the day:

https://www.saavn.com/s/song/hindi/Jab-Harry-Met-Sejal/Yaadon-Mein/CkUAUAJ9Rlo

SOMEONE.

Photo by Aline JOLIT on Unsplash

At this moment, right now, right somewhere, around the world, in your surroundings, or way out of your sight,

someone is furiously clearing their chat history,

someone is taking their dog out for a walk,

someone is in their kitchen, brewing coffee for their family,

someone is falling in love,

someone is healing their broken heart,

someone is listening to music and identifying their life with lyrics,

someone is at work doing a job they hate,

someone is at work getting better at what they love,

someone is looking into the sunset with their loved one,

someone is waiting for the nightfall,

someone is hoping the breaking dawn brings a new hope,

someone must be making someone dance to their tunes,

and someone must be reading in the comfort of their home,

someone is on Netflix, watching House of Cards,

someone is carefully deciding the menu for dinner,

someone is waiting for a special one in a restaurant,

while someone is getting their heart broken in a parking lot,

someone is holding their tears,

and someone isn't,

someone is trying to seek help, connect with human beings again and not feel alone,

while someone is caving into their den,

someone is ticking things off their bucket list,

someone is saving up for their dream,

and someone is going home with treats for their children,

someone is trying to pick their paint brush after an accident,

someone is getting drunk in a downtown pub,

while someone is standing outside an uptown boutique, imagining themselves in the clothes on display,

someone is waiting for their flight to arrive to go home,

while someone finds home everywhere they go,

someone..in fact, everyone is probably dreaming, trying, healing, breaking free,

and more importantly living,

yeah..definitely living.

Tune for the day: http://bit.ly/2t3bAlb

Silence

If I knew that silence was this marvellous,

I would have asked for it

on starless nights and merciless mornings,

I would have asked for it each time words created a din

in my mind,

eluding even the purest of my thoughts and emotions,

If I knew that silence was this rhapsodic

I would have allowed it to engulf me in its symphony,

something that we wouldn’t have possibly created without

spitting vitriol,

but what if this silence deprives me of words

and the flair of creating them,

would I still embrace silence then?

or would I end up giving you all my leftover words?

Tune of the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cL4uhaQ58Rk

What If?

I've always wondered what is it that I wanted from you,

the questions were many,

the answers, none,

so what is it that I wanted from you?

did I desire the luxury of first taking your name every morning?

the roundness of your name, the simple joy of pronouncing it, syllable by syllable,

maybe I did want a little more than that,

for instance sitting across you with coffee and newspapers between us,

the mundanity of life that would have seemed better with our quirks,

actually, your quirks,

so what did I really want from you?

not certainty and never a peace of mind,

maybe I pined for the lavish comfort of just looking into your honey-coloured eyes at nightfall,

or count the stars without the worry of the daylight,

see, the problem is,

even after all these years, I'm still unsure and nonplussed about what I'm looking for,

in you,

the person who makes me want to abandon all my whims and caprices,

but then, stop, listen to the silence between us,

it's only growing and sometimes, growling,

are you feeling what I'm feeling?

or is this just a figment of my silly little imagination?

I don't know what tomorrow brings,

but what if it brings me?

maybe that's what, that's really what I want to know.

Language of Heart.

What name do we have for the language of heart?

that no other can decipher but only ourselves,

do we call it love or do we call it a mystery?

do we name it as a certain pining or do we name it with something that words cannot describe alone?

What name do we have for the language of heart?

the one that's truly beautiful,

but embarrassing enough to keep it underneath the show that we grandly put on,

do we name it as a vulnerability or do we call it our safe space?

What name do we have for the language of heart?

the one that's written with our own fingers but has the power to write and rewrite our fates and stories,

do we call it poetry or do we name it as a piece of destruction that we willfully take?

What name do we have for the language of the heart, I often wonder.