Thursday, 25 June 2015

Sunshine of your Love. (Prose)


The night has endlessly fallen again to the bosom of my sun kissed lather skin, and once again I feel my heart shudder at the fragrance of your touch, so bleached, so tormented into my mind, that you haunt me...everyday....


A new beginning, a new dawn to my soul and I feel rejuvenated by your memories folded and preserved in my notebook, which has dried but never faded. I can feel your warmth wafting around the once lost fragrance of my rose and I smile, while the rays of amber shines through the thin veil and blink a giggle on my shoulder and cheeks, making me feel weak in the knees.




Once we bonded this strings of trust throughout our crimson heart and waited till it ripped our heart into accurate half and you weaved your half into mine and throughout it all, we laughed between the pain and you made me paint butterflies with our scarlet hope.



this torn blanket has been shading our window and the sun peeps through those slits making me wanna play hide and seek. I opened up swiftly and I stretched my arms as the heavy explosion of orange delight struck on me and I exhaled a big sigh with loads of giggles and the cold breeze picked up the puzzles you broke and placed it...in my heart... the breeze then playing with my bristles and I let them, to tangle themselves and untangle, I managed to make it happen, so why not them.....I let them tickle me and prick me and stick on my forehead, but my arms was now drooped, into the vague of our space


In the corner was a pot, dried and dusty, a small plant frolicked and I watched it sway, it was our one another trust, watered and nurtured. Lazily, I caressed it and I saw there was a stub which once was a bud, like the one which signed our relationship. But, like the one it is gone.


Into the infinity I gaze and I fine nothing, but the feeling of warm entwining through my back was not the rays of my charmer but you, who walked out from my life and who was not strong enough to stay out. And you came back with those old smiles making last night nothing to believe and we stood there, in the ocher beams, refreshed and being one, we stood there....


Formidable passion ghastly demised, and in this dawn of fresh possibilities we etched a beautiful morning with those dried roses lingering fresh in our notebook once again....

Friday, 14 March 2014

My hurt inside.

I stoop my head for the hurt that nags at me!
From the moment I opened my eyes- no that wont be as intense as I know the depth. From where I could remember the color has been black, or grey and white... I wondered if this was what others see too.

I have heard many of my friends say they are depressed and are hurt like me, the moment I hear that I wonder if they are going through the situation of encircling visions and gum bursting dreams of affliction. They seems to be seeping pain through poetry with words of wonder. I search through their depths and find the sorrow, but my words doesn't even gain that strength to throw some light for the hurt. I try to imitate others and when I fail I realize I'm not them, so I write in my own perspective and hear, it was not so good. I don't mean to intensify the critics that hurt me, but my own feeling cutting deep scars even when I say, "Honest critics are appreciated". Again, am not complaining about the words, but the feeling I go through when I know that I have failed again.

Life always helped me to find moments of embarrassment and failure. When I look back to find the flashbacks, I see the one where I have failed or moreover, when I am laughed at. I roll my tongue to bite the end, slap my head and blink my eyes. I smile at myself for those memories but with tears prickling my eye-lids and I not allowing them to fall down to tranquility. I tie them back with my eyelashes and I fake a smile. I wrote this feeling in my poem "I Smiled"........ Poetically speaking it is not raw, but it is from my raw heart.

I question faith but what has faith got to do when all that matters is from the God, who summoned us. No use of questioning him as he own the right and we only need to follow. When we are not following him, he punishes us. Everyone will be having different notion to say about what I said right now, but this is what I believe. And I trust my experience. And, this doesn't mean I am not gonna listen what others have to say. So, I let them be as it is.

All that is left if the thing called HOPE, or is it an emotion. I'm not sure, but that is the only element that throw some light against the obscure curls of faith....But, like I read somewhere, "hopes die last"

Tuesday, 27 August 2013

PROSE- Addicted to Nature.


Wind hustled through my hair whispering soft melody of lost love. I watched the leaves plummeting in the zephyr, piling up leaves of red, green, brown and black to the wooden fence of my garden. I leisurely stirred back and forth gazing into tranquility.

The orange glow scattered radiance of ocher crystals making my heart swing through moments of yesterday and today, constructing thoughts of bafflement. I watched the boughs of my sturdy oak tree gleaming to the rays of energy.  I wonder whether trees of yesterday connected by roots of today have contemplations of young love when they were just sprouts of optimism.

As my heart swing through hues of perplexity, I whispered a soft melody of bleakness. Golden chariot of thoughts took me from reality to fantasy, where my heart yearned for enchantment.

Silently nagging through flashes of dusk hues, I brood over the swift zephyr, where they take the desiccated comatose leaves. I dance with the song of sheer pleasure as they take me back to the memories of long lost love. I pushed back the leaves from declining and thumping the fresh soil, as I fear they might get allergy. I failed to remember that they grew old sucking the same soil I fear of getting them perished.  I inhale deeply the air of fresh dew and mist that I often forget is my source of living.

Frantically, I dreamt about a place with headless trees hugging fresh grass and crushing them back to the same soil they break open to pull their body up. I woke with trembling fingers to perceive soft breeze howling through the boughs of the brawny oak and transporting the chill of night whispers through the white satin that veil windows.

One afternoon, when medicating with the hushed nature I initiated how handsome the sun sparkled in the yielding varnish of yellow melting ice cream, not too harsh to suck the ice and get skin wrinkled. I contemplated why the condemnation fell over the pale body of ocher glow, who themselves found overwhelmed by the unvarying smoldering all the time.

Watching the flapping wings of birds that humbly dominated the heavens as their own sing a song less known to men but better know to nature, smearing legacies to the skies with stars of wisdom and wind of epilogues.
_________________________________________________________________________________

Saturday, 1 June 2013

Prepare now, so you won’t be overwhelmed later.

Prepare now, so you won't be overwhelmed later.

These verses has touched me deeply for what I always do results in this title.


What does this actually mean? The urge for me to write something for the title was so strong that I only remember smashing my keyboard to write out my heart... But, the question lingered to me like the clouds of ash and smoke when we burn something. The curtain to my doubts and questions seeped in making me think deeper. The more I think of it, the more I feel a vibration in my legs. I hope there may be sometime when someone else feel something like this.......


Prepare now, let's look about it. Is there a time when you postpone your work always? I guess the answer would be a big no. And this is for the time when you are doing something you are passionate about. I say this because,  now I am on my computer and when I saw this title, the urge to write made me do it now, and doesn't make me think for a better tomorrow. It's because from what I have got the urge resides within me this moment and it may vanish the next moment you wake up from the reality or fantasy of writing your heart. Same, is the case when you are passionate about anything. Yesterday, I bought a chocolate powder and the passion was too strong that I forgot that my tooth was pulled later that day and I need rest. But, I walked up to the kitchen and prepared a steamed cake. Alas! I had to throw it away cause it turned out to something that doesn't make even my cat to have a taste.*Giggle* What I am saying is that, even if the results didn't come out as I planned, I did what I want to do. Was there a better tomorrow?


So, when does this, tomorrow happens? Have you ever thought about it, or maybe I have to ask this to myself. As this tomorrow urge comes only when I am not passionate about the feeling. For instance, everyone feels or most of us feel a step away feel for studies and when the exam is in the coming week, we think of "Ah, we have time for tomorrow", and alas! the week swoosh by like water in sink and we regret for the past week and we sit blankly at the paper. So, why does this happen and not on the case of something passionate?


I am not a psychologist or a what should we call about it. I'm just a typical bachelor student hailing from a small country which has now transferred into a small city, yet the country taste lingers like resin on barks. From this small part where English is not the first preference, I read some articles that attracts me and know a little like 'how we should connect A B C to form words and sentences'. This is my condition. So, I seriously think of the reason why!


Anyway, this may be true or not, but, what I think is that, the reason for this laziness is because we are not aware of the sweetness from the exterior. Like the bitter guard, god! I bet you cannot drink this, but what are the medicinal benefit? This, is the reason what the elders provide. But, what I want to say and what I think is that. Everyone does have a .................................


See, this is what I was talking about, I lost my muse and I can't carry on from what I was talking about.....


Anyway, I believe whatever and how much passionate we are of, we will do whatever was fixed as on, there wont be no better tomorrow!


Thanks for reading! 

Friday, 17 May 2013

If only you knew!


Star ablaze in the crimson aura

of aubergine shy smile and
pink glazed lips.

I watch with perplexity 
how the sky change patters
with hues of sterling
thrift.
As I watch the clouds puffing
poetry if silver lining
on golden ink with the paper
of love and adulation

I was awe-struck for the beauty
of that diamond you 
breathed to make.
I was enchanted by the glare
it blew the life out of my eyes.

Now, as the shades change its path
and contrasting images fights
on canvas to paint
masterpiece.
I was yearning for the love of yesterday
that glimmer powdered promise
for tomorrow
and now as I stand watching the stars
I wish,
I wish if only you knew
I sacrificed my heart for you
not to cheat on me for her.....

Only if you knew
I am the star above you
twinkling for you to show it to her
and to kiss her 
in this twinkling night!

If only you knew!

Sunday, 12 May 2013

Cascading driblets of colorless hues.

melody of parched dreams linger
  with a hum of death and malevolence
I hear them all day long and I can't
  stop humming it from my throat

Death could have been better
  if it would flow through the crimson crevice
of my heart like hot wax melting with ire
  that wouldn't hurt me.

Than with the fact I had to go through
  with only sleepless nights
and soaked pillow with patches of tears
  stained like dried blood of pain.

Life has treated me pretty badly
  with sunken eyes and torn lips
I pray to the almighty for a better day
  without tears and sleepless night!

Music the healer of wounds!

 
Inspired by the QUOTE
When the world tightly closes it door

         slamming right on our face without any mercy
                    there are times when we wish, Oh please!
                    But, there wont be no ears
                    to listen our pain and hurt
                              that will be only the eyesore of other's
                              and, a pain on our eye that needs help.
   All the colors wait their time,
         to fade away from this wonderful worlds
                   and then goes by our favorite color
                    sinking in with us
                             deeply wounding the open wounds
                             and reopening out closed wounds
   The scar and pain, left by the pain and affliction
        will not fade away other than be pinned in the scars
                   leaving behind traces of the pain
                   and we pushed aside into the lonely trenches
                             of hurt and pain
                             and enclosed in the grid and maze where we can't
                                                         get out.
But, as time helps us heal the wounded anxiety
       there is a place where we can cry out loud
       inside our brain it has left a place
                 where we are not alone
                 as long as the strings of violin keeps beating
                 with the melody of black and white piano
                 and the flute that creates the most pleasing tune
                            that makes us alive
                            and heals the timely scars into beautiful melody
                             dusting away into the stars
       gleaming in the solitude of cosmic separation
       and bringing lively feature of corona and galaxy
                             Beating the undisputed drums of eternity
                             and music singing the song of
                             delightful pleasure
                      Making us feel enchanted
                      and making us feel alive!
                                           Music,
                                                    Bringing wild tunes of soliloquy
                                                    enticing our world with hums of music