Semblance

They peeked from corners and winked at me through mirrors,
the eyes that saw everything.
And everywhere her eyes looked
they shattered into shards of agony.
The pieces reflected small holes.
Or small wholes perhaps.
She didn't know which.
They lay unobstrusively on the ground and glittered
with her glory.
In them she lay hidden,
Reflected for all to see.

Bright and Shiny

There are some ties that are made in an instant. There are some that are broken and repaired so many times that they're unbreakable even if you want them to be broken. There are silly moments when you want to sit curled up on someone's bed with a newspaper and do the crossword with them. There are rituals that were meaningless before and have become something of a keepsake.
One shouldn't have to escape within oneself. Mornings before college is when I do that. I indulge myself. I walk barefoot all over the house with my cup of tea and then stand alone at the window nursing it till it's lukewarm. The window that used to be a balcony. It used to be the place where I searched for playmates down below. Now I just look across to the other building and beyond that towards the horizon. At nights too I stand there. Hiding behind the curtains. Listening to conversations meant for me and without me. I thought I was bright and shiny. I'm not too bothered that I am not. The ties that I make are not bright and shiny either. I'm very bothered about that.

Take Heart

Far beyond the never ending expanse of grey

there is a bit of amethyst

I have been told,

"After the fog and obscurity,

a beautiful yellow

you shall behold".

hIM

It made the mornings worth it. Just to see him saunter in like that. Of course, in the end I wasn't pretty enough to be his anyway.
Over the past few days I have come to the sickening realisation that I look for others to define me. However, despite all of that... I would still give a lot to be acknowledged as good looking by him.

Silver Screen

There's no one like you in this whole wide world...

It's true. I kid you not.

I mean I swear.


This is why bollywood is stupid..

Smother

You give me the life I live and yet you take it from me

breath by breath, sigh by sigh

When you succeed, perhaps I will leave my anguish behind

as a small token of my gratitude.

You, so smug and triumphant in your make believe of past lifetimes

are mine

through and through.

As your nurturing hands slowly strangle the life out of me, I wonder if you realise

I may not have another to even die in.

Your trying to make me live in dark smoky chambers

stifles me so.

Resent you I do. But then you grudge me no less.

The Dream

Once upon a time, when the sky was still azure and not grey and red was simply a colour used to describe poppies, there lived a man on the edge of the world.

He was speaking to me. He told me things that were obvious but had never occurred to me before. He said that my happiness could not be created by someone else. I could be the only one to create it and destroy it. He held a secret in the palm of his hand. As I stared into his eyes, they crinkled into one of those comfortable smiles that I had begun to love. The promise was secured by my putting my hand into his and choosing to walk those miles that had been the distance between us. Now they were simple roads of companionship. It was beautiful. It was a dream. I wanted to wake up and smell the fresh air but not the reality. He told me that I needed to stop looking for approval from others for the means I used to attain my happiness.

I told him I wanted to fly. He asked me if I had tried. I said the ground held me back. He said I was scared of the skies. I took off, circled once and tumbled into his arms. He laughed and held me tight. I was restless, too restless. One's own restlessness becomes too much sometimes. It's almost like a heavy object that one is constantly carrying, but not holding. You can pour it back and forth in some place in your soul. Solitude sometimes, is the only reason a mind gets chances to reflect. I wondered if babies cared. Then I was running. I broke free of his embrace and sprinted towards the sea. I took off right before the waves could get a chance to lap at my feet. I soared out over the blue. He had said I could create happiness. I wanted to do it for him. I wanted to do it for me. I didn't want it for us. So I set out on a fruitless search of happiness for him, which only I could create.

Now, the skies are grey. My wings are covered with tar and red is the colour of blood.

The Battle

A couple of them are sulking in the corner. I try not to be distracted because I'm too busy battling it out with those that are around. There are silver swords made of tears gleaming in the moonlight and they slash right, left and centre. I hop around and try to quieten those that are silently screaming at me with faceless voices. I understand. That is probably why the fight I'm putting up hardly has any heart in it.

Either I was stupid to throw them down the well in the first place, or the stupidity has just begun. There was no need to come down looking for them but a few hours ago that's what I was doing; travelling down the dark cylindrical walls of a well in a rusty metal bucket that hadn't been used in ages.

A few years ago, when I threw them in, they drowned without a splash and it was a clean death. Now, I am wading in murky waters with an algae eating turtle swimming dolefully around. I have to win it. I have to make them come back up to the surface with me because if I don't then we will all die at the bottom of this well in anonimity. They don't want me to win, but if I don't, they will never forgive me for it...

Search

Last night I dreamt of all the people I have loved, miss and will love. There seemed to be a lot and then none at all.

I found my dreams, hopes and wishes at the bottom of the ocean in a wooden box with a padlock on it. I wondered at the superfluous captivity because the water had seeped through the wood and all my belongings were simply a dirty mess mired in a bog of salt.

There was a blue boat on the surface and each bob on the water was a promise of the future to come. The sun's rays beckoned, shimmering and twinkling like a diamond net that one could swim into.

And then I saw me, with one leg firmly tied to an anchor buried deep in the sea bed, trying to repair the box with a few of my last breaths...

Laboured Dreams

Is it necessary for a person to have dreams? Is it so vital to our existence that we must hold onto something intangible to be able to achieve the zenith of the heights that we create for ourselves? What if someone had kept telling us from the moment we could make coherent sense out of language that dreams are just futile thoughts whose base is desire that will eventually bog us down into mediocrity?

Is it so necessary to know what to want and how to go about getting it? Why can't I be told that even if I don't begin to worship a thought or a castle in the air I will still be able to attain what I imagine I deserve?

It's difficult living up to expectations that you never got a chance to create. It's like you came into this world and forces were ready to mould your thoughts and beliefs towards a set direction. Without a dream you were supposed to feel like a fallen leaf from a tree in autumn whose fate hinges upon whimsical gusts of wind.

Why isn't it ok to be clueless and unsure? I feel stifled and foolish. I can't explain the wind's path and yet if I can't seem to be able to predict it then I am nothing but a useless leaf fallen from a tree simply because that's the natural order of things. I wish dreams were the stuff that guts are made of. Not like silly wisps of smoke that vanish the moment it's time to battle with the demons of reality.