She let him go
While her heart screamed “no”
With her eyes weighed with tears
And words oblivious to anyone’s ears.
She watched him depart
Tearing her apart
Splintering her soul
Ripping her as a whole.
She saw him walk out of her life
Feeling she has been stabbed with a knife
Drowned in the ocean of gloom
Shackled, with the ropes of doom.
Though it was evident from her face
That she was in a daze
He had eyes which proved to be blind
Which couldn’t figure what raced her mind.
Thus, he left unaware
Of her turning into a cadaver
Coz to another he was bequeathed
Alas, her love was unrequited.
1:45 AM.I stare blankly at the ceiling,from under my blanket.
And tonight,like every other night,I can’t sleep.
I close my eyes and tears roll down from the corner of my eyes,craving the night,like they’ve been caged in for too long.I feel too many things at once.And sometimes,crying is my only way out.
I don’t feel sad or upset.I’m not even angry with myself anymore. I’m not sure if there’s a word for the way I feel but I know that I’ve been feeling this way for quite a long time.And I don’t like it.This nothingness,I want it to end.
I go back to everything and come back with nothing.I’m not crazy but yes,I’d like to know where did you suddenly go?Why did you go?Was it all my fault?Did I fail to realize your love?Or was it really love?So many unanswered questions revolve around my mind to which I have no solution!
So,I think of you and I cry a little bit more.I think of you and then,I smile.I imagine your face, those beautiful cheekbones and the carved out smile.I was never a fool but oh well, those eyes of yours.I have never felt so lost in my life.
I keep staring at the ceiling, without really looking.My mind outrunning my heart.It’s 3 AM now and I’m still wide awake.I don’t know if I’ll remember anything about it tomorrow,but for now,this night seems darker than others and I wish you were beside me instead of this emptiness.
There he was
Standing for a cause
Staring at me
Oh! So beautiful was he.
With bright blue eyes
Seeing which everyone dies
His body bare
And messy hair
Signalled me to dare.
When he opened his arms
My heart started beating like drums
Ran and held his perfect body
And felt such a custody.
The kiss he lent
Was such a blend
It felt the world would end.
All of a sudden he unfurled his wings
Which glowed like thousands of gold rings
I knew what it meant
And the glory of him
Made me faint.
“I need to go” he said
And everything inside me began to fade
“But I will come back for you
And everything will start like new
Wait for me till then
When starts the first drops of rain
You and I will be together
With no one to bother.
To you I promise this
Don’t be sad please.”
Saying this,he soared up high in the sky and disappeared
‘If I lose him forever’ my heart feared.
Then everything around me seemed to move round
And with a thrash I fell in the ground.
This can’t be more apt for what is happening in most of the regions in India today. But, even this fails to grasp the gravity of the situation. The reality is even more bitter,gory and grotesque.
What’s the use of worshipping the goddess when you can’t even give a minimum respect to the female gender? What’s the use of praying to her in the temples when you are exploiting her on the streets and even at homes? How would you explain the contrast of something which is actually so similar on the inside? What’s the use of praying to Goddess Lakshmi for money, what’s the use of praying to Goddess Saraswati for education and what’s the use of celebrating Durga Puja that symbolises women empowerment when you are dishonouring the manifestations of these goddesses?
And after all this…. Rape, molestation, harassment whom are people blaming? Who else than the women themselves. And the reason? Because of the style of dresses they are wearing, because of the way they are roaming in the streets at night, because of the influence of “western culture” as they say that have prompted them on wearing short dresses, short skirts, sleeveless tops, hot pants etc. The solution given? Wear “covered” clothes. Huh! Some eminent personalities were even heard saying that women are themselves responsible for what are happening to them.
I ask you readers, if the mindset of people are so distorted and cheap then how can you expect such a country to ever get complete love and veneration? How can you hope that people like me will believe in the fake worshipping the priests does and the “value”able mantras they chant offering their “so called respect” to the Goddess? How can being a woman one tolerate watching people pray in the sacred places when the very next day the newspapers are flooded with news of women being dishonoured in every way possible? I demand to know. HOW?
“Treat me soft
Touch me cruel”
Burn me with your passion
And melt me with your love.
Make me drunk at your taste
Dizzy at your smell
Mesmerized by your piercing gaze
And devoured at your electrifying strength.
Seize me with the graze of your lips
Captivate me in your well built arms
Deafen me with my moans
And let me drown in your electrifying strength.
Come, let’s coalesce in such a way
That makes time obliviate itself
Forgetting, where you ended
And where I began.
Feeling his presence
In his absence
Winds bringing his breath
At a deeper rate
Being sure he watches and peers
When the rustling of winds I hear
And knowing he is smiling
When the sun is brightly shining.
He is there, he tells me to believe
When comes the rain for my relief.
Acknowledging that his eyes are on me
Fills me with glee.
I know he is around
Though I am sure he is nowhere to be found
But at any place,anywhere
He is mine forever.
Dark wardrobe and dark eyes but the darkness inside of her doesn’t find a way outside.
You look at her and you can never tell, there’s a skyscraper of longing behind those dreamy eyes.
Words are her only weapon and metaphors her only escape.
I bet she once tried. I bet she once cared. For all that’s left now is something beyond repair.
So she took to fixing others, and quite successfully so. Putting pieces of hearts together with her words and childish laugh. I bet she throws her head back too, when she laughs like that.
She goes on like that, unaware of her own presence. For she’s yet to know what she’s worth.
She needs to know this, she needs to listen.The world needs her just like the sky needs its colour. And if there’s one thing I am sure about, is that if words could speak, they’d be grateful for a hand like her.