Drink

Love seems like a rainbow,
Filled with colors of the Sun,
It drips over me like it does over the others,
Slips down my shoulders when I am not looking,
Sometimes falls down my eyes over a memory that was pure,
An emotion true, an incident tragic,
It reflects the piercing, sharp parleys,
Off of my chest and into the open air,
For Love brings me life,
Reminds me that my heart is not made of stone,
And my skin that breathes slow symphonies,
Onto this canvas that I create,
Piece by piece and that changed colors with each gray of my hair,
If Love was perfect, it would be like light,
Simple, colorful, white,
But Love is not perfect,
It is the same as a falling down a waterfall,
Only to be caught by a branch thin,
That breaks off too soon,
Until someone holds on to you,
And keeps on choosing you,
As you fall together,
Infinitely, together,
Love is organic, slow, smooth like a fine whiskey,
You gotta keep on drinking…….

Real

I slowly walk towards you,
Following your footsteps,
Etched on pathways golden,
Petite, almost unnoticeable,
And follow your scent among all the unknowns,
For it takes a century of being,
To see what it is like to be a speck,
Amidst the dust that gathers on a runaway cloth,
I see you while darkness turns me upside down,
And inside out,
My fall and my rise,
My imagination almost running thin,
My ink that doesn’t spill,
They all ask one thing,
When would you be real?

Arms

I sleep with arms wide open,
For the air feels thin at nights,
When I am all alone on my bed,
That knows when I sleep,
When I wake up from nightmares that crawl over me,
As a realisation dawns upon me,
The bed is magnanimous for someone as timid as me,
I yearn for warmth that my sheets shall never provide,
The sound of rhythmic waves,
I turn on my speakers in nights like these,
For silence keeps me up,
And my bed pulls me down,
A crisis of the century,
An affair that must end,
Before I perish,
Or these arms through which blood still flows……

O mine….

O mine, O mine,
I wonder what it’s like to see,
To stumble down a stairway,
Of dreams, desires and all things sweet,
I cannot see the blurry eyes O mine,
Filled with clots if not ancient,
My insecurities, my helplessness and the shards of my ego O mine,
I sleep desperately over pavements,
To hear steps of strangers to sync with my heart,
But O mine, O dear mine, O sweetest mine,
They aren’t you,
For Dolus plays with my heart, my mind and my soul,
He finds happiness in sticking me with glasses sharp,
I bleed in snow,
I bleed in autumn,
And over days when the sun wakes up the little hummingbirds,
But my skin scaled, porous, heals my scars,
For new ones to grow,
I fall down the stairs, consciously,
O mine, O mine,
Can you catch me,
For just this once………….

I write….

A pain radiates from my ribs,
Slow to move, hard to touch,
The one my ghosts speak in days of my penury,
The cracks in my skin,
Ripples in my heart,
The pain usually subsides,
As Sunrises and Sunsets paint my room,
Over mountains ancient and over the clouds new,
Inches away from my bed I herewith reach for my pen,
Tuck neatly within pages of the old annals,
I sometimes write with my hands folded,
And sometimes with eyes that see beyond the stars,
For a pain that radiates sometimes through my umbra,
And onto the ink that fills my pen,
My words the lover, an affair of the century,
I write, I write, I write…..

New beginnings……

I rummage through the graveyard of dreams,
The lost desires and the will to see,
For sometimes I walk over puddles deep,
That source through my devils oh so grim,
The substances that had once belonged mine,
Determination, perseverance and that stubborn grit,
Sitting there idle gambling over the coffin of my skies,
I squat with them, shake hands and bulge them to take up their arms,
As I pick up mine,
For the world is mine and it is mine to see,
The roads traveled and the paths untrodden still,
My voices dumb and mute and unsound,
The frequencies lost in the shriek of the crowds,
For I shall shout and talk aloud,
The bastille of my insecurities shall break,
And bring back the silver in the skies,
And I shall see and see afar,
Farther than the fog and farther than the Equinox,
Till I can see thy self and say it aloud,
It was all worth it, the scars on my arms………

With this post I would like to inform you, my fellow writers of something that is really important to me. Another step towards my career. I have been selected as an inspector in the Customs and Excise Department, Government of India and will be serving the nation towards achieving a better taxation compliance and inclusion of better taxation literacy.

All of you have been really supportive to me and like an extended family that I’ve grown to know for the past 7 years since I had started blogging.

I thank you all for showing me the continued support and guiding me whenever I was lost.

This post is dedicated to all of you 😇😇😇

Thank you

बस आज

तो क्या हुआ जो आसमाँ आज साफ़ नही,
हवाओं में कुछ गुमशुदा सा है,
कुछ भीगी भीगी सी आस है,
मद्धम सी चल रही नदियाँ हैं,

तो क्या हुआ नींद नहीं आ रही है,
करवटें बदल बदल के तुमने जो रातें काटी हैं,
ना रात गुज़र रही है,
सूरज जैसे कहीं छुपा सा है,

तो क्या हुआ जो रास्ते उलझे उलझे से,
शक के धुएँ में मंज़िल नज़र नहीं आती है,
मैं किस और जाऊँ,
क्या यही मेरी राह गुज़र है,

मैं सोचता सब हूँ,
सोचता शायद कुछ भी नहीं,
एक ख़याल ज़रूर आज आया है,
तो क्या हुआ जो नहीं मैं जो होना था,
जो हूँ शायद नहीं भी होता,
मगर यह ख़याल आज जाने दे,
की आज मैं मुझमें कुछ रहना चाहता हूँ,
की आज बस सोना चाहता हूँ…….

Ballad…..

I bleed of the color pink,
The rose withered and mixed with dirt,
Of sometimes that brew a sharp cacophony,
That meddles with my mind,
My body already numb,
My eyes often plays games,
My fingertips as they lose their prints,
Sensations of crisp mahogany,
The freshly cut lavender,
That blooms over the crescent of the moon,
I sometimes hear your name,
And see a mirage over the oasis you left for me,
Water made of gold,
I am always thirsty,
As I bleed of the color pink,
My clothes drenched with my nerves,
I slowly bury myself,
With sand over my nostrils,
And ask my eyes to take some rest,
I dream of you,
And your dancing ballad……

Cold Brew

My words brew a cold stillness,
In the mornings when I am sore,
As insomnia scares away my sleep,
And insecurities cripple my legs,
I drip onto parchments made of skin,
My blood, my sweat and the ink in the color of my eyes,
I find you in my kingdoms of prosperity,
As reality burns me down…….

Peace

The wind that carries in it,
The cold of the distant glacier,
That melts everytime it hears your name,
A ballad of sweet symphony,
And the Oh so petite heart of mine,
Why do you beat so more,
The wind that carries in it,
Your perfume made of gold,
It breaks the chains ancient,
Rusted and crippled with dust,
The wind brings me peace,
Just like that kiss of yours……

Carnations

A flower slowly that hugs the air,
Opening up its petal for the outside world,
A melody that catches ears adrift,
And makes them wonder the soil it stands in,
Clenching the little pebbles like the hands of a newborn,
Its almost miraculous that nothingness creates something spectacular,
Out of things extraordinary,
That mingle around the dust settled,
A similar kind of love,
A man brings for his woman,
Sweet, discrete, wrapped in layers of lavender,
That slowly unravel and fills the air with fragrances eternal,
He holds her hands with the utmost sincerity,
Gentle and firm like the tendrils of Fuchsia,
How hard a man can love,
They are quick to ask,
Just like the oysters buried in the sand,
They bear pearls spectacular,
It kills them to love her,
They rejoice as she comes out pristine,
For the world to see,
Admire and fall in love,
He lies on the ground motionless,
For his love is complete,
For the world to see,
A man loves discretely,
Just like the air that hugs a flower slowly,
Its fragrance that travels around the globe,
Like carnations in the sea……..

Best friend

I wish I could hear you speak,
A sweet slow symphony,
Music to ears, the orchards that bloom,
Fruits incessant over the ledges of rainbow,
Brewed eloquently, just like a perfect rhythm,
But I carry you in my heart,
That sometimes remind me of you,
As I caress the winds and lay down my palm,
Thinking of you,
My old best friend……

Colour Red….

Her dreams were packed in his wrists,
As he flew too close to the Sun,
What would happen if I could touch it,
The Sun with my palms dark,
He would often tell her as they lay down,
On the fresh cut grass, burdened with mist,
Maybe you will burn your hands,
She would often think silently,
A thought malign, something dark,
Hit him while he tried to stay on the ground,
I will touch the Sun today,
Who will come to know,
He touched the Sun and it felt heavenly,
The Sun had skin so clear,
And beamed of the colour golden,
He came down unexpectedly,
Or some would say,
The Sun couldn’t accept incest,
He came crashing down,
His palms burning,
Smelled of rotten blood,
As she caught him,
Lay down carefully,
Looked at his hands,
Touched them,
Her dreams had vanished,
Tarnished by the colour red……

She breathes….

She slowly breathes life into me,
The otherwise mundane,
Decapitated meaning of rhyme,
Brings me news of places I had left,
In utter jittery, callousness of that time,
Carries me sometimes, pushes me the other,
The chains that bound my valleys of lime,
She surely knows her way around the rough edges,
Some of her and even of mine,
It’s hard I tell her when she inquires,
My head down, the weight of the unknown,
That shrivels my nails,
And burn my sky dry,
I sometimes look into her eyes,
For they sing me a sweet melody,
Bravo! my heart shouts,
The hands clap in applause,
And I lay down,
In her lap,
As she covers the sun,
With an eclipse golden,
Like a river that sobs through the agitating night….

Mighty…

She speaks of places,
Dipped in perfumes musky,
And skies of the color red,
Where oceans meet the mountains,
And rivers caress the snow,
Birds sometimes freeze in time,
Flowers bloom each second,
She dreams of lands,
Covered with mist,
Where boats sail on the land,
And messages are carried on the lips,
I meet her there sometimes,
When her storms calm,
When the tsunamis settle,
I hold her hands,
Cold from the incessant rains,
And hold her tight,
Pull her closer,
She sleeps in places like this,
In my arms sometimes,
I hold her head,
And move my fingers through her hair,
Sing her a song,
She sleeps peacefully,
For she already has the strength,
And I,
A mortal being,
Powerless in-front of her,
Lie down next to her,
She sleeps peacefully,
And I just see her…….