chand lahwz...

Yadon ke kuch anchuyen panne chedti hun

Beete palon ki ik potli ko tatolti hun

jane kya baat thi us guzre kal me

jo aane wale kal ke aks bhar se muh ferti hun

Up In Smoke

Empty words in a world of empty souls

Smoke swirling from wet coals

Unseeing eyes, broken hopes

Dreamy abyss of reality's soaps

Feet on a table of headless freaks

Through this haze what my heart seeks?

Cracked mirror, arch lights

Ripping the sunlight from the dark nights

Empty feelings in a nightmare of empty roads

ghosts shivering from the memory of how life corrodes

Leather seats, a stolen kiss

a life of horror for a moment of empty bliss

Three a.m. Blabbers...

I sometimes sit next to my window at night, looking up at the stars and wondering...

what happens to relationships that die, do they go to heaven or hell like people, do they become stars like fairies, or do they remain here... cold chilly spectres of themselves...

ghosts that torment those who killed them?

Why hasn't someone invented the morning after pills for relationship control?

Like sex without the consequence... rather safe than sorry....

got too close to someone, not ready to be haunted...well pop a pill and stop an unwanted relationship from coming into this world

If only someone had come up with this, a lot of people wouldn't be sitting at their windows at 3 a.m. in the morning, shivering from the ghosts that refuse to let go... looking at the spectres of their making through tear glazed eyes...

as I cower in the cold

the misty tendrils surround me

as they refuse to loosen their hold

the past through their eyes I see

I wonder what went wrong

when right it had seemed to be

I wonder why they weren't strong

feelings that felt like the sea

I wonder why I wish for one more chance

when into pieces he broke me

I wonder why I wish for that single glance

why he still holds the key

I wonder if they seize him too

these ghosts of our past love spree

I wonder if he misses me too

through a cold night's howling plea

Love's Proverbial Tramp

I sit here under the yellow lamp,

wondering if I am Love's proverbial tramp.

Walking barefoot from cities to troughs,

through scorching passions and wintry roughs.

Crossed stars and tarot cards,

I sleep under, like those jobless bards.

but in my satchel I carry still,

A sneezing virtue, a leaking quill...

I sit here under the yellow lamp,

wondering why i carry this damning stamp.

Walking around in a forgotten daze,

weak from the ashes of blitz and blaze.

Foggy eyes and a swollen lip,

on the radar of love, but a fading blip.

But in my satchel, i carry still,

a breaking vow, a window-sill

I sit here under the yellow lamp,

wondering why my cheeks aren't damp.

Walking alone, for but a while so short,

running after trains I never could have caught.

Tattered books and unwritten lines,

a thirst unquenched, in a temple of wines.

But in my satchel, I carry still,

a begged hope, a glass mid-spill...

The lamp is gone, the light went out,

wondering what now to wonder about.

Walking along the crumbling roads,

as the frog by the side splutters and goads.

Mermaid hair and a dancing cramp,

what could I be, but Love's proverbial tramp.

But in my satchel, I carry still,

a tomorrow past, a fickle will...

Broken Butterfly

I would have fought till my last breath
against the very Goddess of death
I would have stood in the way of every rolling hill
and slain every monster with my sword, until
you were safe and sound
in dreams profound
in your bed tucked, away
from every drowning bay
yet, as I lay here crumpled, in a pain so fine
you sit on a high seat, laugh and dine
with the fiends who pierced me, with their fiery spear
I scream and cry, but you find nothing to hear
And as I wonder with my dying sigh
if you were my friend or was it just a lie
you flare at me, raise a hue and cry
how could I doubt you, how could I deny
that you had a life and a right to choose
whom you wished to laugh with, whom you wish to bruise
And as you laugh there merrily, on your table so high
A broken butterfly, I quietly die...

I lost my best friend today-- To betrayal, to love and to pre-set notions.

The people who know you are the hardest to convince that you are trying to change.
The people who tell you what's wrong with you and what you need to improve are the first ones to think you are mocking them or being sarcastic,when you actually take their advice and try to be a "better" person.
The people who tell you to give them space are the ones who tell you to FO!!! for being a snob, when you do exactly that.

Why is it that the relationships we cherish the most are the ones that we invariably end up losing?
Why is it that "baseless insecurity" is what often leads to broken ties?
Why is it that the one person we trust with every hidden corner of our heart, betrays us the deepest?

A december evening

a mist of words so silenced
an embrace so sweet so violent
bodies mute
playing like a lute
a heartbeat missed
an earlobe kissed
a dancing soul
a burning coal
an evening I remember
of a forgotten December
the love so warm
impatient yet calm
the memories remain
like a foggy terrain
here I sit in my empty quilt
as cold as the heart frozen with guilt

PS: This is inspred from Priya's post A love Poem

First ever award!!!

Hey guys, I recently got my first award for this blog thanks to Iggy!!

Its the Sumptuous blogger award. Unfortunately, there is something wrong with my blogger, can't upload pictures to it for some reason.

The recent Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations saw the entry pathway of our township decorated with lights.
Walking back from work one dark thunderous rainy night, with the twinkling lights on both sides, the following lines floated into my head...

I stand there amazed,
what a wondrous sight
darkness walking calmly,
through a boulevard of light...

Its a time for endings and beginnings... I have made some tough decisions. I wonder if I would ever be able to stick to them completely...
Call me selfish, call me mean, call me a bloody bitch, but i have decided to live for myself. No sleepless nights, no rocketing phone bills, no emotional entanglements... just me, my ebooks and my movies.
adios

Pitter Patter

I listen to the pitter patter of a silver rain
colouring the wan glass grey with strain
I feel the feeling of being headily drenched
and wake up to find, in a galss tomb i am trenched
With the whiffs and whaffs of crackers and tea
my wicked memory, restless, teases me
With a curl of my lips I watch them pass,
those wavy shadows of the greying glass
playing at being the thunderous waves of a silenced sea
a memoir of a bliss I can now only see
I try to remember, but fail
the potent taste of setting an unleashed sail
The wild cry of a free wind, so young
eludes me like some song I had once sung
I wonder why i am lying here like a vampire of light
interred by choice in this tomb of glass, fighting the flight
is this my fate?
to understand when its too late
the direction my life should have taken
to live in servitude of a glass, that can't be shaken

PS: I know most people would see this as a sad poem. But trust me, I was so happy to just be able to write something, that about wiped off everything else :)

The Funny Feeling

She looked up at the stars splayed across her ceiling
and wondered what was this funny feeling
that had left a snake slithering down her cheek
and an odd sniff, anything but meek

she looked out of her window at the children kneeling
and wondered what was this funny feeling
that made her feel so empty inspite of everything around
and wrapped her in blankets that blacken out every sound

she looked at the kiss the sun from the ocean was stealing
and wondered what was this funny feeling
that sent a tingle of memories chasing through her heart
and bred emotional hiccups that gave her a start

she looked at an old picture whose edges were peeling
and wondered what was this funny feeling
that made her laugh and cry at the faces in it
and wish they could have trapped time forever in a pit


PS: Listening to "kyu...phoolen ke khile khile se rang udd gaye" from kambakht ishq on repeat... wondering why my cheeks are so wet?

Broken...

The high walls of a coastless sea
The hidden power of a humble plea
The guilt born in the lap of love
The pain struck by an empty glove

The face reflected in a broken mirror

The distance that grows as you go near
The betrayal brought by an honest touch
The emptiness caused by too much
The tremble of an unshed tear
The bloodless death by a spoken spear
The story told with a silent face
The sorrow writ in a clown’s grace
The world destroyed with a shaken head
The faith that was left for dead
The reasons I look for behind
The pieces that I never find
The wonder at what has been done
The horror and I are now one…

No, I am not still hurt or in love with him, but now I know how it is to be on the other side of the fence... How it feels to break a heart...

PS: Office was boring today..not much to do except staring at a blank screen and listening to Bryan Adams on my friend's IPod. Not that I am complaining, I kind of enjoyed sleeping with the back of my chair pushed backward, my unheeled feet resting on the upturned dustbin and the earphones singing in my ears... , and yeah dreaming about the irresistably hot HR I have been literally oggling at during lunch hour for the last week and a half ;) ;) :D