Unrest

Find me a shade darker than the shadows
of all men, and beasts
Let me wallow in it, let all my agitated senses rest
Lend me a silence that surpasses that of the dead, and decayed
Let no voice be heard, no song be played,
Gift me the isolation that reigns over the stretches of the Thar
And let me the repose of soldiers dead in the war,
Let a bleak ambience take over my shape, and my soul
Make me a shade darker and stranger than the ghosts
Let me be forgotten as those trifle twigs that make up a sparrow’s nest
Find me a cocoon in which like an oblivious worm, I can lay myself to rest.

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Old age and youth

Lately, I have been missing you
Feeling the absence of your warmth
in this cold winter breeze,
I am apologetic
For when you were here
In the hot afternoons of the summer
I missed you out,
And I feel bad for another
Who had missed me so
long back in my youth.

Now I know your sorrow
I know that I have hurt you
But I hope you also know
That I love you like I loved the another
And still do,
And I miss both of you,
I miss my old age and my youth.

Oh silence,

Oh silence, my nearest and dearest
My only, and perpetual friend,
You stay amidst the presence of all
In my heart, hidden
Like the breeze is always upon the see
It’s a matter of if you feel or not;

Oh silence, my closest of acquaintances
You are there when no one is
Accompanying me when I am alone
And a considerate friend you are
Always awarding space to my thoughts;

Oh silence, my trustworthy and selfless companion
You never want and you never deceive
No misconception or misunderstanding
have I ever felt in your presence
You stay what you are and you let me be;

Oh silence, the medicine to all my woes
I never need an invitation,
And you always pay heed to my call,
In such statute-like stagnance you dwell with me
Yet never ask me to leave;

Oh silence, none but on you I can rely
And be at peace with the consolation,
You share all my secrets
And tell no one,
You embrace all the tears I cry,
And though I am a cripple at heart,
The day when I can no longer live
On your invisible wings, I shall fly.

 

Like Always

I just feel sad
So sad, and empty
As those ancient hallways,
Which are lost to ruins and cannot be walked upon;
an emptiness that is in front of the eyes and still unseen,
This silence that reigns over
is so silent, and dumb
That I feel as if I am a corpse
reposing, slowly decomposing in a coffin,
And though it sounds,
and feels disturbing
It is also only the usual
This sorrow, this emptiness
These hallways and the coffin,
This decaying existence- so usual
It fails to make a difference to me,
To me it just feels like run-of-the-mill,
To me this just feels like always.

Drugs and Ink

My life is like the ruins of Jericho,

Ancient walls, alien and catatonic

standing contorted,

A stagnant instance of time

neither moving ahead, nor behind;

My life is like the blinking eyes of a blind

A beggar unkind,

A ship that cannot sail, cannot sink.

All that I possess

Is a restless mind

and a heart that cannot think,

Sleepy days, wakeful nights

An abundance of drugs and colourless ink.

 

 

 

 

 

 

People to Talk to

I am looking for people,
To talk to,
I don’t step out every other weekend
But that does not mean I am an introvert,
Don’t assume so that I cannot,
But I fail to find people I would want to go out with.
People whom I could talk to in rhymes,
People who have a stable heart and an open mind,
People who are not chained to the bells
Not scared of their chimes.
I’m searching for people
Who are ambitious but not blind,
Who are brave at heart and though they believe in fear
Are ready to give up everything,
even themselves for their dreams,
I want to meet those dreamers, the mad hatter’s, and the insane jokers.
People who want to grasp every star in the sky,
But don’t mind if they don’t.
I am looking for people
With capability to probe a million bizarre ideas,
Yet free from influence except their own,
People who intend to grow forever
And yet never outgrow
For people who are more than what they show.

To the tune of silent nights


Away from the world,
And it's deceiving ways,
I sit shrivelled up,
In solitude, and in her praise,
As the tranquil tune of the silent night, 
Plays; and plays; and plays.

Through the open window,
I gaze at the clouds,
Overlaying the starry skies,
Like a spotless shroud,
As my soul's unheard whimper,
Grow loud; and loud; and loud.

Until they are lost
In the silence that plays,
And whilst they depart,
The emptiness stays,
Amidst them the tranquil tune of the silent night,
Plays; and plays; and plays.

Therein creeps slowly her face,
Before even my senses yearn,
And utters to me in a mystical tongue,
That I try, but cannot learn,
And before even my eyes blink
It begins to burn; and burn; and burn.

And with it, burns my soul,
Tickling my heart with pain,
As I gaze into her fiery eyes,
Try hard, but fail to explain,
But my hopeful heart never fails to try
Again; and again; and again
.


Away from the world,
And its deceitful ways,
I sit shrivelled up,
While her ashes stay,
Amidst them the requiem of broken dreams,
Plays; and plays; and plays.