dark

Blur

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Oh how they know how,

A dance of callousness,

A long silent stream of pain

(to the veins).

Oh it isn’t them,

It is merely your own

Stifled, tortured soul.

Soulmates?? Nah.

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I am lost for words currently. I want to shriek out about how I feel and yet I have nothing of how to put it in words. I am trying, I am trying to talk to you. But mostly I feel very weird and uncertain about stuff. I feel stupid how you know nothing about me because you never ask and yet the word love springs out multiple times in each encounter. We are supposedly people who are very close and yet when I need you to understand stuff, I feel you act selfish and think only about yourself. I want to tell you about bruises and wounds and I don’t want you to make a fuss about it. Why are we so different, why? There is so much, and yet its like there is nothing.

I read a post that we shouldn’t feel the need to be fulfilled by another entity and I have grown out of that phase to a great extend , I know I am complete. But what about all that value addition I thought was possible? I see myself utterly confused.

What am I doing? Some days it feel I am pretending a whole circus out of my life with you.

Annoyance and hurt…… annoyance or hurt? lol

Too much inconvenience in life.

Sweet nothings

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Who was I ?

Who was he?

I swore I loved him, and whispered soft endearments , breaking all boundaries of principles and years of building up walls, and he took it all in, like a hungry child takes in the piece of bread, gobbling it up and I felt empty inside.

And yet he demanded more.

And I broke with each impatient demand.

It felt like unwanted penetration.

But it was only a commitment.

 

 

 

The strange star-crossed lovers

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He holds onto her hand, either out of the fear of losing her or maybe that is what he has seen so often, and this last fleeting gesture of seeking comfort in the nearness of beloved, repeated countless times, is etched in his mind. He doesn’t know how much more time he has and it is impossible not to think of the looming doom upon his head. He looks at her and tries to keep his composure, so as not to hurt her any further and rather calm her down. ‘I want to be your strength, my love’ he thinks and traces his thumb gently over her delicate face.

She lies on the bed, pale, shrunken and like a ghost of the past already. Every breath she takes, make it sound like an effort pulling at the very core of her heart. The only part of her which still feels alive is her eyes. The deep blue of her eyes seems restless, as if a fish after being caught in a net. The very last of her strength is draining slowly and she opens her mouth to whisper some inaudible words.

He comes closer to her and puts his ears near to her mouth. She sighs ever so slightly, so patient even in her last moments. “Take care of Amile and …” she pauses and rests her hand on his head, “gain strength and grow well for the both of us, while….” He couldn’t hear the rest of it because he felt a sensation like an electrical shock crushing his very soul and he slips away from her.

He couldn’t stand the misery and disbelieve her words causes him, and does she not know? “Gain strength?” he sputters and looks at her incredulously, “How could you even ask that of me?”He stands rigid and decides that he can’t face her anymore; it’s too much to ask of any mortal.

He feels angry beyond comprehension and realizes that lava of burning hot fire is seething inside him. Something shifts inside the room, a very imperceptible turn but they both feel it because he hears her pleading for him to come to her and hold her. He doesn’t hesitate for a second and she is in his arms in a swift movement and he can feel strange wetness on his face. He feels silent tremors and is not sure which of them is shaking. “Sing me our song”, she says.

In a scratchy voice barely audible to anyone he starts to sing tonelessly but starts to make his way into the soft melody:

‘A thousand miles seems pretty far

But they’ve got planes and trains and cars

I’d walk to you if I had no other way

Our friends would all make fun of us

and we’ll just laugh along because we know

That none of them have felt this way

Delilah I can promise you

That by the time we get through

The world will never ever be the same

And you’re to blame’

He can see she is smiling that warm loving smile that made him mad the very first time he saw her and he was besotted from the word go. His family thought she was very plain and his friends, who knew the mystery behind her presence in the lands, openly condemned it as illegal and thought that he was a fool for following an ‘emagrati’ (a common word for immigrant in our part) and that they were destined to be star crossed lovers, and nothing more from the start.

He never cared much for her status as an immigrant or considered her plain because he was in love for the first time and whenever she was around he felt a strong magical pull towards her. A long forgotten elaborate poem by Yeats came to his mind whenever she was around and he still remembered the glimmer in her shining eyes the first time he recited it to her:

To Ada, my love:

‘Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,

Inwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams’.

They had danced all night long and the poem in itself has been a way to ask her to marry him and thus as was the cosmic plan, they eloped within a month of meeting each other, quietly with attendance of few close friends. They never even consider the danger that her illegal immigrant status might pose to their relationship or the terrible circumstances that now inflicted themselves upon them. They were young and naïve and thought that nothing could stand in the way of their eternal love, which obviously was foolish of them and he is amazed at how long they still got to be together without any suspicions from authorities. However, it ended one fateful day and all the others like her, who were considered nothing more than mere filth crowding this sacred land, were suddenly being specially sought after, so that they could be removed. He remembers how for months they felt a tight scrutiny around themselves and felt a paralyzing fear whenever anyone in official looking attire stared at them for a tad too long.

He feels a pressure on his shoulder and it’s Amile. They stare at each other and then he feels her shifting in his arms, fluttering like a bird, to hold her baby. She hugs him tightly and I can see fear and confusion in his eyes.

He feels as if his insides have turned to ice and the very prospect of Amile growing up without Ada is pure heart wrenching to him. Kevin, his brother, enters the room and nod slightly towards him and then says softly that it is time to let go. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out and he feels weak and thinks his legs will not support him to the place of execution. However, he puts up a last brave attempt and moves her bed slowly until they reach the place of execution. He can hear faint screams and sobs, while a strong smell of dying souls emanate from the place. From here on the moments stretching beyond take a dreamy or more like nightmarish quality and he loses count of time and remembers only faintly the dark reaching out and sucking his beloved Ada forever into an abyss, from where no living soul ever escaped.

……………………………………………………………………………………….

Samuel can feel a hollow feeling as he comes around and looks at the doctor worriedly. The doctor, however, smiles kindly at him and says that his liposuction procedure has been done safely and he can now live a more fit and happy life.

Samuel had gained a lot of fat over years of eating greasy food and living a stagnant life, leading to a massive weight gain. He tried to lose as much as he could but then the stubborn fat cells in his body refused to budge and a liposuction was suggested. He feels a calm settle over him and a drunken sense of optimism swell inside him with the idea of beginning a new, improved life from right this moment.

The spoiled youngest child do care about what you say, y’know!!

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Some days I wake up
to my mom rushing around
or my dad at his office table
or sometimes with both of them with a frown

And just while I am having
a lazy moment of haze
They throw something angry at me
and it will force me in this faze

It would be something like “You don’t care for me”
or ” You will only wake up when I am dead”
but these phrases instantly go all the way to my brain
and I leave my state of dreamy happiness in vain

I know that they might not mean it really
or have said it in a burst of temporary exasperation
But even for the most disobedient careless child
they could pierce all the way to the heart; these crazy suggestions

At night these thoughts and remarks make me uneasy
and I check up on them while they sleep
I squint my eyes and see their bellies rising and falling in the dark
and only with this daily ritual can I fall back asleep

No easy way around- A Reluctant Arsonist’s diary

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She smiles at me sarcastically

Demurely at first and then stead fast

Why are you tearing these pages drastically?

Why don’t you incinerate them?

like the past.

 

I looked at her; bemused

I smile at her quizzical look

And gravelly I add then

These are the words I wrote

with my heart.

 

I was a sadistic arsonist

and I loved the smell of burn

However these words,

I spend all my life to learn and spurn

If they burn, I will be singed too.

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Image courtesy: We heart it

Afraid- a charles bukowski influence sans being stoned

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Some days I fear,

that they will realize

they don’t need to hear

all what comes from my mouth

through my heart,

because of this pessimistic tinge,

and they will term it as whinning.

Some day they will

desert me and not look back

and I will be left behind

in the darkness and pain

of my own miserable thoughts.