Unsurvivable

There are things so unsurvivable,
And yet we survive them
Like these few memories of hospital wards, sun-tanned streets
Roads and stalls
Blankets and foul smell
Smiles and food sharing
Laugh out louds
Talks and frustrations
Sharing problems and joys
Walking beside the precious one.
How can everything just go away at a whim of a second,
Making it difficult for the heart to dwell in the memories we long to forget?
Or just keep the memories and forget the hurt
But there was no hurt in those memories
They were very simple moments lived negligently.
It is strange how we end up remembering such simple moments
Forgetting the necessary details
But remembering a walk on grey road on a yellow sunny day
Going to a particular market everytime
Meeting the same particular friends on way back home
How gloriously you remember the seasons of the past, the shades of sun, the density of clouds
As if everything was just so perfect.
You used to visit the same old things for years, buying the same old things for months,
Or spending a night (or few or many) in a hospital
Talking on phone in its corridors
Watching TV, singing songs, talking in old melodic tunes
Giving an awkward range of hugs and kisses
Listening to all the hurls and angst
Keeping your door shut
Staring at the walls even on days when everything was just too well
Having being loved, all the tantrums well taken care of
Rewarded for your pettiness with your favorite things
Bribed with your favourites again to do necessary things too
Seeing, touching, smelling, tasting the best things that this life could offer
When even the taste of tears wasn't that sour.
It is impossible to live past this.
Especially when, while working on entirely something else on your laptop,
All these wonderful amazements visit you
With several gushes of wind
Pumping memories into your mind
Even when you try to shake them off
But keep them still.

Isolation

Isolation is a reward
Of all the chaos and mess you have survived in
With your delicate heart
Keeping your trust and hope at stake.

Isolation detoxifies you
Revives your strengths
And makes you too warm and soft for the worldly dealings.
Either you become afraid of your own company
Or you just never want to come out of it.

Love Earthing

Love absorbs into the soil of your heart
Demanding sun, sometimes rain
Tickled by the work of tender hands
For all that tillage
Turning them rough, hard, and dirty.
And on a very unexpected day
All the crops that have grown into a beauty
Are burnt, destroying bountiful harvest
Before you can taste the very first fruit of your desires, hopes, and dreams
Are nothing less than ashes now
Being carried off by the winds of time
Leaving behind the soil, with remnants of the roots
Which shall always be kept close and embraced
By the earth (your heart)
Which now holds the love in its secret bounds and crevices
No lover shall remain aware of which.

The Night of the Storm

A storm of wind has swept all over the world
Carrying from one person to another
Some belonging of each other
Some thought
Some emotion.

In some place, a disjointed shadow formed on the ceiling
Illuminated by a flickering light
Of the candle stand-stilled out of reach
Of those hands which were lain in their laziness.

A slight portion of the window was open.
Like that thin line separating life from death
The noises could pass, a faint idea of wavering candle inside can be observed
By the hurtling clouds on that very dark night.

For a fleeting moment everything stopped
And the people all over the world paused to think and feel
The thoughts and feelings of another person
Unknown to him.

A sigh was made audible in that pin drop moment
When everything had stopped like a slip of a heartbeat
The candle didn't waver
A slight position of one knuckle of that lazy-lain hand shifted from its position
And the storm after it resumed at its full speed.

The whole world was overwhelmed with the rush of feelings and thoughts
That skipped and hopped and glided and swirled
And entered eventually — all of it — in that tiny room to end the journey of the storm
After blowing the window off, reaching onto the person lying thither,
A strong gust of wind blew out the candle.

The First Cut

You remember that very first self-inflicted wound of yours?
Where you allowed yourself to bleed
And let all the hurt leave your body
When you have made a cut this deep.
You wish for love to enter into the grooves of your wound
Dismissing the pain from each layer
Healing you from inside first
Where the vulnerable longings are there.
There was anger. No anger anymore.
There were those hurtful moments. Now mindfully gone.
There is now a sense of numbness
An awareness of the infinite.
But the thought of eternity has somewhere diminished.
Making you let go of undesirable things.
Your mind dances to the beats of the rhythm at which
Your veins are breathing
Exhausted by a sudden turmoil of work
Ready with the will for living, though.
You give your own love for your deepest needs
Like transfusing your blood from one hand to another
Learning all about self-love
Indeed, the first cut is the deepest.

Where You Belong

Where thou shalt been born
May you die therein,
For the earth has known thee
And accept thou as its own.

Is a blessing.

Millions have been misplaced
Like the ocean from its glacier
Bearing a journey of unknown
In their course of life.

Is inevitable.

What lies in its midst
Is a desire of the climate you have known too well.
Sometimes the winds pass through your hometown
Reaching you to whichever place you are at in your journey
Bringing along your childhood sagas, love that belongs to you, and assurances that keep you moving.
There is a peculiar taste which belongs to your place
Which at least once in your rest of the life time
You do get to taste
Through an entirely unrelated being.
This taste brings back memories, laughter, and care.

There is a certain way in which the trees and crops have been planted in a place
They are taken care of
They grow in a certain way
Their growth ingrains hope in your heart
And the fruit you reap finally teaches you about processes.
You carry these lessons throughout your life.

And wherever you go
You stay rooted to the place where you saw the first gleam of light
The first warming night
The first drop of water
The first molecules of oxygenated air
The first touch
The first smile
The first fire
Making you choose your first fascination
The place that gave you your very first curious thought,
You can't let go of it
No matter where you go
And however much you have already forgotten about it
It's there
Filled into your spirit and dedication
And perseverance
Making you 'you' and nothing less of it.

Counted Moments

There are some specific times and incidences
That divide your life in halves or more
You call them turning points or breaking points
But one thing is for sure
You, your life, your relationship, your beliefs,
Nothing remains same after that
You literally feel your life divided into segments
Separated by such moments.
It could be a death, a break up, an opportunity, an experience
But one thing is common in all
Truth— it reveals itself to you
In some or the other form.
Hitting you hard on your head
Forming a bump that contains your old self
Which soon goes away in healing
The old structures, patterns, compromises, desires, needs
Everything shatters down in one bit of a moment
Leaving you face to face
With your reality,
And you feel that the mirror
Which has been separating you from your image or reflection
Simply fades away
Into insignificance.
And you stand right in front of yourself
Ready for the talk.

In That After Moment

Come to me as whole
In your blacks and whites
Orange, yellow, red and blue.
Come to me in all your colors,
Personalities, needs, desires, likes,
Vulnerabilities, guilts, repentance,
Come to me with your secrets
Tell me who all you've hurt
And who all have hurt you.
Come with love, come with anger, come with laughter
Come all teary-eyed and broken-jawed
Come with roughened hands, peeling ankles
Come with that soothing voice of yours.
Bring along your broken crayons,
Torn diaries
Dog-eared books,
Half-eaten pizzas,
Missing-stringed guitar.
Come with that belly of yours—swollen or abs
Bring along some wine or beer cans
I'll arrange for the ice and snacks
See you after the lockdown ends.

A False Obituary

A Much Deserving Woman has Prized the Possession of Death

Delight Swept Over the Earth
With Another Much Needed Demise

Her family and friends have gleefully confirmed the news.

When one of our reporter showed up at her residence, a lot of people were excited to share their feelings.

The battery of our camera and the ink of our pen ran out,
Even that didn't stop the rest of them from their expressions.
But for maintaining the ethical code, plus in order to not stretch the string of indecency,
We won't be including the quotes from most of them here,
But only the significant ones.
However, their identity shall remain discreet,
Although none of them minded the otherwise.

She was so lousy all the time. Not picking up a scrap off the ground, not clearing away the dust. Once I entered her room and instead of cleaning the dust off everything, she was making caricature with her finger! Like we used to do on misted window of a car.

You know what? When I was just 5 and she was 25, she literally fought with me over a packet of Doritos! She fought with a kid! I had to call up everybody for my rescue. She still didn't give it to me. How shameless! Though I won in the end.

We made her believe she was good and deserved our attention. In fact, we even flooded her with affection, but she remained inconsiderate. As if she believed she deserved that.

Oh yeah, that's how she'd think. Really! Once I told her, you know you are loved. And guess what she said! — "So what! Everybody loves somebody. Haha"

You won't believe. She cheated on me with her boyfriend. I mean, yeah I was cheating on my boyfriend and loved somebody else. That somebody and she loved each other. She hurt me. By loving the guy I loved!

She had a very petty mind! Once I was just being friendly with her. Trying to hold her hands and cuddle. She said she was uncomfortable and I should stop. When I couldn't stop myself from being friends, she said I am molesting her. Yukkk! How could she even bring up such thoughts!

She indeed had a petty mind. She never forgave me and always held me responsible for some stupid fault for which she was at fault too. When I tried talking her out, she said I have molded the facts for my benefit. She gave up on the discussion and went away. Man, she remained such a merciless bitch!

I loved her dearly. I loved her madly. But she didn't. I told her she can try better, we'd be great together. But she simply said she doesn't love me. I told her I'd go away forever, and she let me go. That was so heart-breaking!

That happened with me too, bro!

Me too!

#Me too!

But she loved me. Haha. I didn't. Haha. But I made her believe I loved her. Haha. But once she realized it, she went away. Such a bitch! I kept calling out her name!

She thought she wrote good. Yeah, I did give her that benefit of doubt. But then I stopped reading her altogether. She stopped sharing her poetry. I miss her poetry now. Bitch! Hey, does anybody here know where I can read it?

Everybody knows. If you really want to read it, you'll find it. So stop pretending.

How dare! You f*** off and mind your business!

Hey go back! We are in line here. We want no mess. Kindly stay patient.

Hey you! Now you are talking like her! Don't be like her!

Yeah, she never fought! She used to say that she ain't gonna waste her energy over things that can be maturely discussed. And for the ones that were unresolvable, she said there is no point in fighting over it either.

Man, I am telling you, that was so irritating about her! She had this double-faced personality, you know. On the out she seemed so preserved, composed, peaceful and mature. But I am sure she was not. She had that fire inside her which could burn any person alive. Maybe she was full of hate on the inside.

I doubt that. I have seen her forgiving people who didn't deserve it. I used to tell her that she needs to maintain her integrity and not forgive those bastards.

So she'd forgive the unforgivable and still she didn't forgive me?

Maybe you were worse than them.

Oy!

Aye!

Please please everybody, clear away some room. I want to say something.

So what? Even I want to say something.

If she had been here, she would have given each one of us a chance and wouldn't have let us fight for it.

That's irritating. I love fighting. I like feeling that I got it because I fought for it and I deserve it.

Yeah bro, so get on the side. There are older people too in the line.

Who? He? He must be the sugar daddy. Hahaa

Respect man! Mind your words.

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