Category Archives: Poetry

Silence

There was anxiety.
Uncontrollable anxiety.

It was vicious. I couldn’t understand what it was about. I was sinking; into a well so deep, it seemed impossible to come out. Underwater. Breathless. I kept trying to bring my head out to the surface to catch some air. My lungs were under a penetrating pressure.

I thought I was underwater.
That’s exactly how it felt.

I felt stuck, so suffocated, so trapped. Yes, trapped. That’s what I felt. There were moments during the day when I tried so much to move, to get up and on with life. But I didn’t have the strength to do anything.

I wanted this feeling to end.
I felt irrelevant. I wished I didn’t feel this way.

The world around me silently kept telling me to not worry. This feeling wasn’t going away any time soon. What I wanted was irrelevant. My infinitesimal dreams of existence meant nothing to the Lord up there.

Or was there even a He up there?

I clasped my hands, the pressure was so intense, I didn’t even feel it. But it hurt. I wanted to know where the hurt really was. The sting was deep, it stabbed right through the rib-cage and made my entire existence tremble with its force. I didn’t even know what I wanted. What would make it go away? I wanted the universe to tell me. What would lessen its power? What would give me the strength to be myself again?

I wanted the universe to just tell me.

There had been moments in my life when I had been the person I loved being. The happiness then had been so easy, almost natural. Now, the present numbness was my only natural. Had I ever been happy? Felt impossible. The life around me was a blissful life. I should be ecstatically smiling for the camera. I was smiling, only it wasn’t real. The sting down there made my sheer existence an act. Why did I keep sneaking away in corners to catch a deep breath and shed that weight that had been hanging over me for an hour? I couldn’t let anyone see it, they wouldn’t understand. How could they, even I didn’t understand myself. I knew there was something that miffed my existence. I felt like someone had pushed their hand through my chest, grabbed that pumping heart and was now squeezing it with such intensity that it made me dizzy. I felt a black cloud coming down around me. I wanted to be able to breathe. But that darkness just kept descending.

  It will not end. It will not end. It will not end.

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Fleeting

It was a rebellion.

A rebellion against humanity.

A rebellion against life.

A rebellion against what I thought the world was and what it turned out to be.

I thought about it long enough. Everyone thought I was over reacting. Maybe I was. But I really wasn’t.
I was reacting. I was genuinely reacting against the false impression I had had of life; the thoughts, the aspirations, the hopes, the desires, the failures, the heartbreak.

It was like a blackout for the longest time. I tried hard to understand what was happening, what had happened and what was going to happen. But it refused to make any sense. It was as if someone had wiped the chalkboard before I had had the chance to note it all down. Almost like a dream, it was unbelievable that circumstances could alter so fast. It was fleeting, boundless at one moment and a joke at the next.

I could feel someone standing there, pointing a finger and laughing at me. “Did you really think that would last? *laughter* Did you really?” I didn’t even know who that someone was. Or did I? Maybe I did at some point and now I didn’t. It was all so fleeting, so unreal. Someone standing in front me now had a solemn expression, giving me an unsaid lesson with those earnest eyes, so intense it sent me shivers through my body. I could also hear the raindrops. Fat little drops of rain falling on the shed, fat little drops of rain falling on the shed, fat little drops of rain falling on the shed. I had made a song out of it and hummed along. Suddenly, that was a moment that made me forget about my very grave thoughts, moving with the hum of my new song. It was a hit on the head when I got back, realized what I had become.

A hymn for the universe; the highs and lows; I was coming alive to being human, I was coming alive to it all.

 

Wonderland

Let me give you a route to go.

A window to pass from.

An arch to look through.

A broken wall to climb on.

What if the window is half your size?

What if the arch is big enough to house your entire city?

What if the broken wall is a hike up a mountain?

With close up, space expands.

The bricks peeked out at me. They came, like a sudden scene in a film, a dynamite of the tenth of a second. There was red and brown, a skyline of broken lines standing in sheer contrast against the blue.

It was floating, almost unreal; a physical interconnection in the suspended reality of its half burnt walls in the midst of its far flung ruins and debris.  The ethereal fragility of its soul just existing in the midst of consciousness; the past with its destinies and transformations all gathered into this instant of an aesthetically perceptible present.”

It gave evidence of the present I was a part of, the possible future it could hold, and a scattered image of the past that had defined it. Time had gnawed on those walls and dragged them down to their brink. The crumbling walls lurking beneath those thick layers of overgrown foliage. Nature had taken its toll on them. Man was irrelevant there in the midst of grass ten feet high, trees forty feet high, a river of fast flowing water, fishes of golden color, melodic chirping in the background.

So Dark

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I was trying
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I wonder if I should have asked.                                                        16
Asked for directions. Asked for routes.                                           17
Asked for possibilities. Asked for probabilities.                             18
It would have been so different.                                                       19
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Because it was dark,                                                                            2122232425
So dark.
So dark.
So dark.

But what about the directions?                                                                         26
I picked up the keys.                                                                                           272829303132

So dark.
So dark.
So dark.

But what about the keys?                                                                                                        33
I headed towards the door.                                                                                                    343536373839

So dark.
So dark.
So dark.

Her face expressions changed                                                                                                                  40
But what about the door?                                                                                                                           41
I opened the handle.                                                                                                                                    42
So dark, was it not?                                                                                                               434445464748

So dark.
So dark.
So dark.

But what about what it is about?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               49
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Does that mean anything to me?
I kept walking down,
trying to avoid every living creature.
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I was heading towards what I had wanted to see all along.
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The lights were just very dark.

So Dark.

 

We are Okay

Often
I feel a sound thumping
in my ears and my heart.
It thumps loud enough
for the world to hear
for the universe to feel.
Blood pumps
through my veins,
waiting to gush
out of my ears.
Scenes run
in front of my eyes,
speeding past,
a montage of its kind.
A bullet train,
getting derailed,
crashing into a tree,
collapsing across,
the edge of a hill,
rolling and tumbling,
down the slopes,
vomiting its passengers,
out into the abyss,
luggage disassembling,
to bits and pieces,
and shreds and tatters,
and scraps.

But let us feign,
sham the world
into disbelief.

For we are okay,
aren’t we?

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