Tag Archives: feelings

Calm!!

This is what I came upon social media today. Guess, being socially active is not after all, all bad?

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A much needed respite from daily humdrum, from routine monotony, from everyday expectations.

Try it, it does look, sound and feel peaceful!

 

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Because It Is Valentine’s!

My last post was a literal tease and I literally blew up the romance in it, and I intend to do the same here. Only I am hoping that by the end I start making a little sense, and give some kind of respect to the feeling called ‘love’.

Warning: I do not intend to hurt anyone, it’s purely innocent!

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What exactly changes this day? Please, tell me!!

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Only Sheldon gets me 😀

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So, before you ask me, here’s the answer…

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Ummm, I’ll have to see if I get all the wine or not 😉

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Egggzzzaaaaccccttttllllyyyy

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Well, I’ll be with Harry. If you now what I mean 😉

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Again, Sheldon gets me.

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Oh, please do it right away!

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Okay, I know, giving too much importance to myself here!!

But, I guess, it’s no big deal 😀

Okay, now jokes apart!

I teased too much I guess. But it’s only because I hate it when I see people taking love so callously. I mean how is it easy for some people to play with such a pious feeling? Every year it’s a joke and more of a show off than the real feeling. It’s like with changing gifts and roses and cards, the person to whom they are giving it to, also changes. I just hate this fact about us. That’s it! Again, I realise, not every one is so, and hence the following 😀

In all honesty, I attach a little sonnet below, for love, to love and with lots and lots of love.

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Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. That’s it!

It is an ever fixed mark!

It is not time’s fool.

It is love, now and ever after, even when things are darkest!

So, here’s wishing you all a very Happy Valentine’s Day. May there be lots and lots of love in every heart!

Fumbling Valiance!

Has it ever happened?

That you feel trapped?

You consider yourself quite brave,

But in all honesty, you are scared.

You thought that you forgot that feeling.

With so much constantly happening.

But one fine day,

You find yourself to pray.

Your fingers are crossed,

And you find yourself so much engrossed.

Fumbling, fidgeting,

Anxious; petrified; feeling alarming.

Has it ever happened to you?

That something so important knocks the door,

That your knees go weak,

And valiance seems like yore.

 

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.

That Flower!

 

Remember Monica and how clean freak she was?

 

Yep, I am compared to her often. And I have to admit that I am pretty much the same. I will crib when I will see that I have to sleep on the wrong side of the bed, or when the coffee cup is kept on the table without a coaster, and things like that. Things, which no one bothers about.

 

But she also has that door. Remember, which no one knew for so long and when eventually it was opened; it had all kinds of garbage stuffed inside. Yep, I have that too. Well, it’s not a door, I have a big box full of old things, which my folks call unused, unwanted garbage. But I call it memories. Yes, I have stuff in there, which I will never use in my life, and yet I refuse to depart with them. Things from my nursery days, to yesterday! From crayons, to mementos from every place I have been to, memories with all kinds of people I love and care about!

 

So, come Diwali, my people will pester me to clear at least something away, and every year I pretend to clean something out, only I never throw anything out. I make space, I cram things, but I have not yet discarded anything, and nor do I have any such intentions for near future. So today, I sit and pretend just like every year, to clear things out, to clean my room. (The irony is, it’s already cleaned, but since it’s Diwali, I still have to do it!) So, I am utilizing my Sunday this way, and I run across some really old stuff!! This stuff I haven’t met in a few years now!

 

I open that box full of memories,

I take out everything, crayons, to paints, to some Barbie accessories, to slam books, to school photographs, to college memories..

There is a list, I will not bother you with.

A book comes out,

It’s a novel.

I don’t remember reading it.

The blurb brushes my memory.

Yeah, I have read it.

But it wasn’t my favorite.

It was a book read and forgotten!

Then why did I find it here?

I drank that old book smell!!

And as if it was magic, I knew why it was there!!

 

I smiled!

Blushing would have gone too far.

But I smiled, all the same.

And closed the book shut.

Not sure whether to go ahead and look at it.

I hold that book for a while, turning and twisting.

Trying to figure out my next move.

 

Oh what the hell, there’s no bomb inside.

 

I go ahead and open it.

I couldn’t find it.

My heart literally, literally skips a beat.

WHAT THE HELL!!

Where is it?

What did I do with it?

 

Didn’t you say you were going to throw it, anyway?

 

Yeah, but I said so, I didn’t do it.

Definitely not!!

 

So where is it?

 

I scan the pages frantically, and just when I am about to burst (I don’t know with what) I find it.

 

And there is a big smile on my face.

I don’t deserve that smile.

That smile isn’t anymore mine.

I don’t even want that smile back.

But I smile anyways.

And I close my eyes and get drunk

Drunk in that stale smell of books, and words,

Of love and feelings,

Of that naivety and all the firsts.

 

I brush away the tears,

Pretending to be sneezing amidst the dusts.

I sober up from my past,

And I smile anyway.

 

This is what I find there:

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I know you can’t even make out what this is!

But it’s special all the same.

 

Years have passed by,

People have come and gone,

Feelings have changed,

Oh, the people have changed,

I have changed,

But this still remains special.

 

I smell that old smell one last time,

Tuck it inside the book again,

And close it as delicately s possible.

I don’t want it to rust,

Not now, anyway.

And read a couplet, that I attached in the midst of the pages,

That last time, I had an encounter with this.

 

Vaqt beet te der nahi lagti,

Umra guzar gayi, kai saal beet gaye,

Par tujse mulaqaat kabhi fir hui nahi.

 

Aaj fir mila hai wo tera diya nazrana,

Jise ab tak sambhal k rakha hai,

Kuch murja sa gaya hai,

Par ab tak apna sa lagta hai.

 

Jazbaat, ehsaas, shayad badal gaye honge

Tere, aur shayad mere bhi.

Teri ibaadat ki umeed nahi, Sirf ek unkahi arzoo hai,

Isilye is murjaye gulaab ko bhi ab tak sambhal k rakha hai!

 

I smile,

I reread.

I close the book.

I pack the box.

And put it away.

I know not till when!

 

 

PS: I will hit publish before I change my mind about publishing the Hindi lines. I know it’s not great, it’s novice, and very childlike. But I presume that we all do these kind of stuff once in a while 😀

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?