The Birds lie

Slowly.

Rays sublime glowing through the rails.

Your spine glistening and burning gold.

Satisfaction.

Sugar boxes are plain mean;

The crystals hate me.

Kettles are annoyed.

Tremble leaves my fingers in cold, returns like a knight.

Naked.

A strand of hair in your coffee. The eyes kill me an inch.

There they are; eyes of the tsar.

They hit my feet first, on the way up, to the rounds.

And in between, there is a puddle.

I have the earth as saviour of the sight.

Another tremor.

There’s a distant cry. A pink of love.

Sheets white, craving blood.

Desire.

I move just so close. Knees warm with your burn,

Lips dry blue, covered yellow.

A breath, it’s like the spring’s whisper.

God-damn-it! There’s water everywhere.

The deadly foe, them open windows.

Your ears drizzled by the vicious song.

Of my paramour.

I weep alone, one knee blue. There’s fire;

One on the walls, another in my heart.

Words that never left my lips –

Them birds lie.

Perhaps I was finally at peace.

The one I loved, didn’t burn.

The Chowmein Nation

I know this comes late in the slant, cool airs after the blaze that Delhi witnessed recently, but that's the irony. A woman's life does not end in a fullstop.

It happens everyday. It shouldn't be just about the fact that she was treated 'harshly', 'inhumanly', 'brutally' or 'another strong word'. It is about something else. It is about a four letter word called Pain.

The pain when a man looks at her. Yes, LOOKS! It's a pang of pain that strikes in her heart. You do not have to physically assault her to rape her. You just have to Look. Look at her till she's curled up, her heart beating hard in her heart, looking for a place to hide. You just have to call her names. Words. Words will undress her. Words will make her regret her existence. You just have to 'accidently' brush across her. That fear will be a remembered till she's a hundred years old.

Its a routine for her. She knows when she steps out of the vicinity of her own, she is going to be stared upon. She has accepted and tied the fact that she can do nothing about it around her heart. That string pulls even tighter every time she's accidently touched in a public bus or abused on the streets. Here starts a fear of its own. She could not save herself, what if she is not able to save her daughter? She doesn't want a daughter.

While she was young, her mother had told her - stay alert. From every man in your life. No one is to be trusted. No one is to be blamed later.

So she starts doubting. She is not sure of anyone. She doubts her brothers, uncles, tailors, conductors, ward boys, teachers, swimming instructors. The power to analyze a touch becomes genius. She knows where he's looking at. It becomes her natural instinct. She wishes she had a blanket around her.

Not all are like her. Some give up. Give up to the eyes, the hands and the brothers. Some think they deserved it. Some just take it and move on. Take the load, and make a rope to hang on.

It stops with you. It stops with the stopping of whistles and your heroship. It stops with her security in a bus full of you. It stops with you turning blind towards the fact that she's a girl. Yes. It stops there. If she wants you to see her, she'll make sure you know.

Just Stop it. Stop looking at her. Stop touching her thinking she'll never know. She'll always know and remember and be terrified. Don't kill her trust when she is a kid. Don't let her die because you like to eat chowmein.

Heer - Jab Tak hai Jaan

Heer Heer na akho adiyo, Main te Sahibaa hoyi,
Ghodi leke aawe le jaawe, Ghodi leke aawe le jaawe,
Le jaaye Mirza koi, Le jaaye Mirza koi.

Ohde je hi main te oh mere warga,
Hansda ae sajra sawere varga,
Ankhaan band kar la te thande hanere varga!

Ohde je hi main te o Mirza mere varga.

Do not call me the misfortunate Heer. Call me Sahiba. Death is a mandate. But I want to die after I've been ridden away from this world of agony on a horseback by the love of my life. Mirza, though we'd die because I'm a foolish sister, but it would be with your love that I'd close my eyes. When I look at you, my own self reflects back. My kohl reflects your purple scent. Your smile is like a beautiful morning. Don't close you eyes, the world would be cold.

I'm like you, like me. 

Love Lose Love

Love Lose Love

How do we love?

We share the only thing that actually belongs to us till we leave the damn material. We share the gift of souls. We seek a soul, we share our own.

I’ve loved. I’ve loved like crazy. And with each passing day, I’ve loved more. And then I’ve also lost. Which is more, don’t ask me.
I don’t have a balance.

But the worst is feeling a bit less of the magic each time we lose. After 22 years, I realise ive found the perfect guy. The one who says things out of my lips and opens doors. The one who holds me like a butterfly. The one who’s first is me, though my first is nowhere him.

He loves me, alright. And I want to share that level of passion and exuberation and excitement. But it’s all too real to me now. After 4 Princes, you cannot believe this one will treat your shoe right.

He does not love you.

You’re kissing this boy right now. You’re kissing him and he’s kissing you. Actually, he’s not really kissing you. He might be moving his mouth in the correct ways and moaning but he’s gone. He’s not here right now. Leave a message at the beep. You’re kissing his mouth and soon you’ll be kissing his neck and finally you’ll be kissing his manhood but you mustn’t forget something: you are never kissing his heart. Not even close.

Remember that this boy is an asshole and he has been sent here on Earth to destroy open-hearted people like you. He’s here to tarnish your self-esteem and leave you in pieces. He’s here to be a chapter in your book, and you a pithy footnote in his. You will have two wildly different interpretations of the relationship and when the stories don’t match up, it will make you feel like you’re losing your mind, that you really are the delusional psycho he’s painted you out to be. Don’t worry. You’re not. You’ve just met the boy who’s supposed to destroy people like you.

He doesn’t love you like you love him. Your love is this big, beaming light and his love is that dead gnat on the ground. But for right now, I guess he’s yours. He’s renting out his body to you for the night as a courtesy. At first, you’ll feel so glad that he did. “Oh thank you,” you’ll cry out at his feet. “Thank you for letting me having you for this brief moment of ecstasy.” When it’s all over though, you’ll hate him. Just like that. You’ll have arrived at his house with such promise and vigor to change him but he sucked you dry yet again. He wanted you to know that it will never be the way you want it to be, that he will never be the way you want him to be. And now you know. Again. Hold on to this knowledge until you develop the amnesia that’ll keep you coming back for more.

Rule number one: Never believe anything anyone tells you in bed. Beds are safe spaces where lies take root and grow, grow, grow all the way to the ceiling until, suddenly, you’ll find yourself surrounded by nothing but lies. Overgrown weeds you have to whack your way through just to get out of bed. Some people never leave though. Some people are comforted by the lies so they sleep with them every night.

This can’t be you. You have to get out of bed. As fast as you can.

He will say sweet things to you in bed, things you can’t believe are coming out of his mouth. It’s easy to say those sweet things when you’re lying next to a naked body. Try telling them again when you’re in a turtleneck and have a cold and ice is sticking to your face. It’s a lot harder then.

He leaves your bed and the second he does, the spell is broken. Even the way he dresses — casually, lazily, dismissive — will be enough to make your heart sink again. “Come back to bed,” you’ll say, patting the sheets.

“I can’t. Sorry. Got stuff to do today.”

He fills you up just to deplete you later.

You can only have him in bed. Outside of it, you can’t have anything. You’re stripped of your rights.

Don’t act surprised. You know better than to act surprised.

Just get out. He’s a dead-end. He won’t let you love him. Never will. You’re loving brick and mortar. Not a human body. You can love more than a wall. Hell, you need to love more than a wall.

He leaves. You lay in bed just a little longer so you can linger with his smells. You decide that you hate him.

He hates you.

No, wait. That’s still not right.

You hate yourself.


From Thoughtscatalogue.com

It’s time again.

And this time it is not just about a question, or a life, or a heart-wrecking ballad that make your lips twist in a pitiful smile. This time it is about ‘I’. A glorified, cherished, celebrated and loved ‘I’.

I often tell people that when I write, there’s always a force behind it. It may be an emotion which is starting to take toll over me and hence I need to pull it off my back. Or it may be a significant incident of my life that has left me shaken. Over the time, i had brought myself to think that these are the only times when I could write.

Yes, it’s heartbreak. Over what, makes no significance whatsoever. The ‘why’ part of it, however, holds essential importance.

I do not write this one for any other soul who might encounter it, read through the boring parts, does not even understand it, but makes a judgement and moves on. 

I love myself and still do not give as much credit to myself as I should be. I like taking the blame. I love the drama life brings with her. At the same time, I love fretting about it. I am highly talented. I am capable of doing and managing things half of you wouldn’t even dream of doing all your life. And I can do all of that effortlessly. My capability, and here is my second admission, comes from the fact that I am a fine worker, giving fine results and I don’t even have to put any efforts. It does, of course, backfire at times. 

So, my point is, I work smart. I know stuff. I am creative. I am highly friendly. I like attention though I hide like a doe if the spot-light’s right on me. I love being possessive. My rule is – if I see it first, it is mine. It belongs to me. Also, my ideal day would be when I can see all parts of Harry potter back to back in a single day. Would be better if I got the time to read the books instead!

And because now I am tired, I am going to finish this quickly. I know people get jealous of me. I would be too if they had what I have. I have a smile. It comes to me the moment I call for it. It is the most powerful weapon in the world. I have smiled at the point-blank, darkest moments of my life and trust me, it’s a talent of few. I can go to limitless extents if it comes to saving that smile of mine.

So this is the nano-percent of me. One day, when I become what God commands, I will discover the whole of it. For now, I’ll be happy with just gloating about ‘I’, ‘me’, ‘myself’.

For someone, written long back.

A moment is all that it takes, to make someone adhere to you, and cling to him likewise. You ask me at times- what makes me want you. I don't have an answer. Rather I'd explain my act as the need to drench my thirst. My thirst of belonging to someone who needs no explanation as to why I am the way I am. It wouldn't possibly make me happy If I drive myself to love you or contrariwise, since love has got it's own convolutions and complexities. I like the way we are, simple, yet prenominal. In love, yet not in love. Otiose yet valuable. If I cannot promise to Love you all my life, I can surely promise not to forget you.


9th of February 2009

Born again

Along the purple lines of the sky,

My wishes hide, my dreams lie.

Beneath the sparkle of the sea,

My hope is captured, my soul is free.

Within the circle of the silver dew,

My smile conceals, my promises stay true.

On the swan’s shiny wings

My feelings drift, my love springs.

In the wrinkles of the old tree,

My wisdom grows and my thoughts spree.

In the secret whispers of the rain,

I become alive, I am born again.

16/9/11

Anew

No, it doesn’t seem like yesterday at all,

Because every moment has counted since the day of your depart

No I’m no more scared to say that you’re dead,

And no, I’m still not on the verge of the overrated new start.

They ask me where were my tears and worry,

I tell them they dried in the winds of February

They ask me why I was so shameless

I said just ‘cuz it never feels painless.

For it’s been days and each day reminds me more

Of how much you were needed and wanted still.

My soul is matt dark with the deepest hole

An empty space no one can fill.

Still I’ve been trying and I’ve been trying so hard

To fit in the red, pink and blue in the vacant part.

It just won’t work anymore ma!

There’s always a fist clenching my heart.

It’s just that people say it goes with time and around.

What they don’t know is that the secret evil is here to stay.

It’s not the pain that is slowing down

It’s the memories that are fading away.

Sucker for love

Sucker.

Sucker for love.

For that warm feeling beneath the stomach. For that feeling that you get when you’re on a giant wheel. For that envelope that protects you from the world. I mean how can a person fall back into those treachery traps again! Fool me once, fool me twice, fool me nice.

I do not understand the urge to get back to being dependant on someone. I do not get it why it is so important to have the tears and the drama and the promises come back to my life. Why is it that while the world moves on, I still love how the past was!

Its worse when you know it isn’t right. I mean I’ve made my mistakes. I know now. Things that can build a relationship easily at the start are the reasons why they fall back down.  I just do not get it! Why would I still be searching for a perfect opportunity of making a fool out of myself, yet again! Why can I not learn from mistakes, mine and others’? I think I’ve seen quite enough to decide that letting someone own you is not worth it. Then why do I still want it? Why do I still want to be held and told that I am their belonging? That I am the center of their world and that they care.

I think it’s just because of some simple reasons. We all are suckers for love. We all find ways to quench our thirst of being needed, being wanted. Some succumb to the mishap of that thing called love. Some find relief in certain other ways, like being the best at your work makes people admire you. Or like having dog, who loves you, unconditionally. Or having a huge group of friends who think you’re super cool or a virtual community online, where you feel like you’re at home.

I think I’ve tried them all, well, except for having the dog. I think it might be the answer to my search of filling the empty spaces in my life. I’m not too sure whether I have turned into a maniac already or if there’s still hope for me.

All I really know is, I am out of a miserable relationship, ready to enter into one. And this time, I’m not going to try to find the right one. I’m just going to not be in a relationship for as much time as possible. I’m not going to succumb to the innumerous perks a relationship offers – insecurities, misunderstandings, restrictions, loyalty and what not!

Ah, who the hell am I kidding! I love it all. I love it how it feels when you’re sharing your life with someone. I think it gives a lot of life to my life. I love the attention. I love taking care of someone. I love it when pretty dates happen with pretty drives. And don’t you just love the way it feels when you kiss someone you love. I think there’s nothing in the world that can be a better thing.

Guess, I’m just a sucker for love.

Getting by!

It’s time I let go.
It’s time I see the end of my pain
You’ve made your mistakes
 Over and over again
You’ve made a fool
Out of us and what we shared
For the things you’ve done
I found a remedy which is only fair.
I’ve decided to forgive you
I’ve decided to move on
I’ve decided you’re not worth it
I’m sending you back to the world you belong.
I gave you all I could
And I took none
You don’t think I always knew
That I was always better that you?
But I let you be
The most important thing to me
And now I’m dropping you
For you’ve fallen down
To be a person I could never expect
Long ago, you’d lost my love
This time, you lost the respect.

Ruchika Pandya

I ain't so weak.
I ain't need to go back to someone who clearly lied.
For no reason stands tall enough to make a lie, a betrayal, reasonable.
I need you for life maybe, But I need you with honesty.
A man who falls in the trap of lies,
a man who knows your weaknesses right
a man who excels at taking the true resort to tricks,
can improve, can become truthful, if he wills to,
but is still sitting at the cusp of deceit at all times.
I ain't meant to deserve deceit.
He may or may not be true again,
but the benefit of the doubt belongs to the true heart.
It comes not with hidden motives.
Its man who makes mistakes.
Its a stronger man to own them up,
and these thoughts haven't ever been strangers to me.
Yet how can giving chances to a man,
whose entire foundation lies on mistakes be reasoned and expected?
A man whose every effort,
knowingly or unknowingly, goes for wrong,
cannot hold the torch for me.
I ain't that blind.
Sometimes, more than him,
I try to explain myself his mistakes.
Why? I ain't that foolish.
His mistakes may be not be culpable,
may be pardonable, may be forgive-able,
but it doesn't mean that I still need to put up with them.
I ain't meant to suffer all my life.
So to keep my heart clean, I ain't going to fill it with hatred for you.
I forgive you. I give freedom to your wings.
But I won't accompany you in the flight.
I ain't so weak,
that I can't find my way through the clouds.
I know how to fly, and I know my own way in the sky.
I ain't so weak.

When someone goes away

If you're sitting and still wondering,

"What went wrong?"

I'm with you, I wonder the same. 

If you're still thinking,

That you could've done more and taken the blame,

Lay back and relax, I feel the same.

If your heart is in pieces - millions too,

If the pain in your head is making you insane.

Forgive yourself, I am doing the same.

Are you figuring out and connecting the dots?

Thinking of songs, places and names?!

Take my hints, I'm learning the same.

Are you searching your mind for memories - 

To only find empty photo frames?

Make some new, I'm creating the same.

Are you still asking - 

If you were good enough for the game?

Trust me, you're the best, I'm trusting the same.

And if you ask me, the feeling is so old.

The moral of the story is long gone.

All that is left is you.

Love yourself, and move on.

Alive

Sitting back.

Pale Walls.

Rise and falls.

So much I've won.

So much more that I've not done.

Sitting back.

Fingers crossed.

What did I gain?

What was lost?

Will it ever have a rebirth?

Or was it too a leaf in the sky?

Falling down, dying in earth?

Did it mean, anything at all?

How long is the journey?

How long is it gonna be?

Change is a child playing.

Reality is an old saying.

Belief is dying, ideas deprive.

Hope is still alive.

Hope is still alive.

No moon to hold

A dream you watch and make it happen,

Takes everything you have and leaves you barren.

Memories, true, but for how long?

Tomorrow is singing, and it's a sad song.

Not what was expected, not what was told.

I wish I had some stars to look at, 

I wish I had a moon to hold.

So this is how it ends?

Couple of notes, couple of beers,

Couple of hopes, a lot of fears,

A journey of people on the same route,

You end up helpless in the end, barefoot.

I wish its more, I wish I feel it soon.

For now there are no stars, there is no moon.

Oh Dear!

Oh dear God! You’re so handsome,

I feel like taking you to a circus for some fun.

Your eyes are like my whole world at a place,

I feel like wrapping you up and sending you to space.

Your lips are like a sugar coated chocolate cake,

I think I’ll put you in a hot oven, allow you to bake.

You’re so incredible – you should be at the cover page of a vogue,

I feel like cutting you up and feeding you to my dog.

Your walk is so manly; you make the world want you,

I want to take you to a corner and beat you up with a shoe.

Your face is sunshine; you’re the best pick,

I think it makes me all feverish and sick.

You’re oh-so-unique; your kind is a few,

I wish I could kill you now, cuz the world’s better off without you.

Just this night

No reason.

None sought.

Faces in masks,

It’s a cry in the dark

Stay close to me

Just this night

It’s a festival here

Of dreams and assassinations

Dipped in your color

I want to pass this

I want to make this real

It has happened yet again

Listen to those words

They’ll tell you my story

If you hold my arm for threads of trust

And reveal all questions

I might just live

In your shadow tonight

Just this night.

Success and what not!

When one comes to think of it, what really is being successful?

Being in the last year of college, worries and fears are crawling up and making me realize that the real world awaits. A series of What ifs bar my mind whenever I think of the future. I guess the prodigy of 'Follow your dreams' is somehow overrated, though I am a keen believer I do not know if I can do the same.

Hell, how can I, when I still haven't concluded on the avid topic of What exactly is it that would make me happy!  I somewhat lack a dream right now. Although I have other dreams, related to the work I do, which is mostly AIESEC, to establish the fact that I am good at what I do. But what exactly is it that I wanna do?

Last night was a reminiscence into the past. Again. Though it is so painful that I hate going there. The direction in which my life is steering right now feels okay. I feel okay. Not happy, not too sad. Okay.


How much more could I take? I have no answer. Like my best friend said, how much more can life push me? And more importantly, till what limit will I fall and rise?

Its good to fight. Its good to stand alone. Its good to see people thinking, wow, she's strong like a rock. But somehow I wonder, being strong has lead the world around me to believe that nothing can shake me down. I am afraid that a breeze could shatter me right away. But.

Yes, the admission that I am going to need someone is pretty obvious and frequent these days.
But.

Land me somewhere where I am happy, a prayer, as always. Enough.

Weird things they are.

Take you back to the time where you belong,

Some cried, some laughed.

Some just were there to walk along,

Some moments that bring tears to your eyes,

Some moments that tickle you, like a feather,

Written words of smiles and friendships,

Or unspoken promises of tomorrow,

Now you  turn back and see.

It was never meant to be.

A mother's smile, a father's wit.

A sister's hug, a lover's split.

But most valuable of all above,

Pictures, bring back people you love.

Black and white, or splashes of red.

Remind you of the things unsaid.

Of people and feelings that die never,

A picture is a memory forever.

Life, that bitch.

Life, that bitch.

The stolen smile that lives for a day

Secret woes, some hidden pain,

The numb feeling, a cruel itch

It never stops, Life, that bitch.

Eerie as darkest, sinister night,

Fake as the moon in the sky

Frail as the Caesar who was ditched

It never stops, Life, that bitch.

Happy colors, shiny names

Passing pleasures to play the game

One day beggar, next day rich

But it never stops, Life, that bitch.

Death is ugly, but death is true

Life is vague, life is blue

Baffles your mind, the bloody witch

It never stops, Life, that bitch.

Hide the scars, live insane

Time you lose, moments you gain

All the wounds get them stitched.

Because it never stops, Life, that bitch.