Tag Archives: claustrophobia

Her Mysterious Meshuga.

Hey folks, I hope you all are doing fine. I know I have been away for a long time, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can. Till then I am very pleased to share another poem of mine that has been published at Spillwords, a place where words matter. I sent them this piece a while back and was not even expecting them to revert back. However a couple of days ago I was notified that the poem is going to be published soon. And as always, I was elated to see my name in print.

I share below the link to the poem:

Her Mysterious Meshuga

Also, please be patient with me. I will be back to all my favourite writers. I, honestly, cannot wait to get lost in the magic of your words.

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Her Mysterious Meshuga.

There is a whirlwind of chaos inside her

An entropy, a madness, a little emptiness

That ceases her sanity from within.

The mania, the frenzy, the wilderness

All a part of her nugatory existence.

 

The deadening disarray enchaining her minds

Building a claustrophobia

Which you may never succeed to define.

The restlessness, the anxiety, the neurosis

All a part of her woebegone reality.

 

She is imprisoned betwixt the chain and its steely embrace,

She resides inside the merciless bolt and clasp,

And yet she has the zeal to envisage dreams,

To live in a reverie, a trance, a ravishing fantasy,

Her weening tenacity terrorizing her pandemonium to feebly vamoose.

 

 

Please, please just let me be…

Please don’t come again.

I am good, if not at best, without you.

Please just go away.

Please, just let me be.

 

It was really difficult

To disentangle from your black chains,

It was claustrophobic

To always be in your embrace.

 

When you are around

I am not happy,

I am not myself,

I am someone I never want to be.

 

Even your shadows are too dark.

When you are around,

I can barely see straight,

It is all just a maddening gaze.

 

When you are around

Every single thing is black,

Every thing is not beautiful,

Every single thing is not acceptable.

 

Even the smallest thing disturbs me,

Every petty thing gets on me.

I cry and crib over every insignificant thing,

I try and trip over every attempt of smiling.

 

When you are around

My friends turn to enemies,

And I try to find solace in those frenemies,

Failing at the attempt of even breathing.

 

I just can’t see through anything.

My vision blurs

And it is difficult even breathing

I drown and drown absolutely giving in.

 

I have told you,

Please don’t come back

My vision blurs

And I see only black.

 

It is very difficult

To disentangle from your black embrace.

It is always choking

To be tied to your steely embrace.

 

Please, please don’t come back

I am good, if not at best without you.

Please just go away,

Please, please just let me be.

 

PS: Before anyone asks, this is not dedicated to anyone. So the ‘you’ in the above poem is not a person, if it can be called a poem at all.

Possibility Of The Impossible!

 

Sitting at the top of the mountain,

In the open air,

I couldn’t breathe in.

 

Sitting near the holy pyre,

The woods burning,

I couldn’t even feel the fire.

 

Sitting on the green earth,

The flowers blooming,

I couldn’t even reckon my birth.

 

How can there be lack of water,

Near the ocean?

I tend to ponder.

 

Sucking in, not giving in to the claustrophobia,

I intend to combine ocean and fire,

Not to forget the earth and the sky,

Believing in the impossible,

Why not just reach out for more than possible?

Helpless.

I feel helpless today.

So helpless,

As helpless as I haven’t felt in a long time.

As helpless, as I think I can never feel.

The epitome of helplessness.

And yet, I feel this can go on,

On and on for quite a while.

And yet I feel that I can feel even more helpless.

But what could be more than this, I wonder?

Because, this what I feel today, is beyond my ways of expressions.

This what I feel today is beyond my perception,

This is beyond me.

And yet I know not, what to do. And yet I know not how much more helpless can I feel.

Because this feels more than enough,

More than what I thought I could take.

 

I thought I am doing my best

But even the best seems less than the best.

Nothing seems to be working,

Everything keeps coming,

And I feel helpless.

 

I thought I could take it,

I thought I could do something,

But now, depite all the efforts,

I feel helpless.

 

I feel as helpless as I would have felt in

Drowning into that ocean,

Without knowing how to swim.

Tug of war

They bundled me up, separated me from all my other friends and tied up a knot on me. I was suffocated. Hadn’t they ever heard of claustrophobia? I wanted to breathe, to smell the ‘exotic Indian air’, to cherish the gone moments, to smile through the troubles but they wouldn’t just leave me alone. The weather seemed to be pleasant, I could sway with it, could feel the wind on my face, but only if they would untie me.

One of them held me by my hands, the other grabbed my wavering legs, and my stomach ached with the knot getting tighter and tighter. Couldn’t they apprehend that I was losing my shape? What would become of me? I would lose my colour and my shape. I wouldn’t want to lose myself but they just don’t understand me. When will they?

They are just relishing their game of tug of war. How can they get pleasure out of this, by disquieting me? How? I just don’t want to be torn into two smithereens, misplacing my individuality.