My Faithful Friend (Collab)

Counting down the days gone by,
Ticking off dates on a calendar page.
I lay back and breathe a sigh,
Wondering when I will leave this cage.

Amidst this madness, as my every innocent dream dies,
My faith walks on broken glass… For a thousand miles.
I contain countless burning tears in my eyes
As I hide my pain behind my fake smiles.

That’s when your calming presence I begin to see,
As you rise to be my beacon of hope amidst the dark.
You raise me up to more than I can be,
As gently you heal my bleeding heart.

As my demons evolve in dreadful metamorphic forms,
You hold my hand and become my guiding force.
Together we confront all the dark unforgiving storms,
While standing side by side, a light within me you enforce.

We stand in stark contrast,
like a rainbow in a ghastly gray sky.
Though the distance between us is vast,
I know you’ll wipe my tears if ever I cry.

Things may fall apart from pole to pole,
But I hope our bond will never end.
Your benevolent fragrance, I carry in my soul,
For you complete me… my faithful friend.

Note: A true friend sees the silent tears in your eyes that you are holding back & the pain in your smile that you hide, which others fail to understand. It’s such precious people who support us when we feel vulnerable. Through this poem Marie & me aim to capture the true essence of friendship. We aim to highlight that our personalities may be different, we may be miles apart but if the emotions & intent is genuine then it can blossom into a blissful bond. I had the great honor to work on a collaboration & witness the creative brilliance of Marie as a blogger. She often calls me Sensei Sid, but honestly she taught me a thing or two about poetry as she shared her beautiful outlook towards friendship. Please show some love & visit her blog on:

https://lalunapoetica.wordpress.com/

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Mirage (Collab)

I had the great privilege to marvel the magnificence of a splendid blogger: the girl with a puzzled mind as we brain-stormed together over this poetic collaboration. She may have puzzled mind but she can make your heart melt with delight with her magical words. Please do visit her blog on https://thegirlwithapuzzledmind.art.blog/

We’ve worked on the collab retaining our original writing styles. Her’s is a write-up, while mine are a bunch of rhymes.

Puzzles Mind’s Version

It was a silent night. In a starless sky, the moon was unusually bright. It was a night of solitude and no one was in sight. Everything was dark and still, glistening with the silver glow. In this dark silver night a restless heart was roaming amidst the whisper of the past, in an attempt to see the unseen.

In the midst of the dark agony, out of nowhere a silver mist appeared. The frail heart thumped with a flicker of hope. A hand moved forward in anticipation to look beyond. Just then the dark veil of clouds appeared and wrapped the glowing moon. All the silver light was gone and once again the darkness was born. Like some shivering mirage the silver mist vanished. The shadow of sorrow was visible again. The silence of the night was now echoed with a painful cry.

My Version:

Reminiscently I reel back the old times
When your heart seemed as pure as the winter’s first snow.
I remember how I wanted to immortalize you in my rhymes
But now you are just someone that I used to know.

There was a time when you quenched my soul’s thirst
As I fancied your love raining in the desert of my heart.
But now those memories trouble me the worst
For you abandoned me when things started to fall apart.

You turned your back on my tear-stained face
As for help, towards you, when I outstretched my hand.
That’s when you saw me as a pathetic disgrace
& the bitterness of your venomous soul I began to understand.

Perhaps angels too have their wicked schemes
For you butchered me, with your intentions like a knife.
Now entranced in a spell of my searing silent screams
I realize the worst people teach us the most valuable lessons in life.

I see the false promises that you keep
While an illusion of you burns in my eyes.
I see you lie through your teeth
& from your black magic, I now intend to rise.

Awaking from your spell I have nothing more to say
As realistically things, I begin to view.
I turn away and I’m on my way
As darling, I realize my mistake of loving a mirage-like you.

Note: “All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream” – Edgar Allan Poe. Everything is an illusion, but nothing hurts more when such act of deception comes from a loved one whom we trust the most! This collab tries to emphasize on that sentiment & is dedicated to those who have been broken in love or ever had their expectations shattered because of a mirage.

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She Loves Broken Things

As the moon malevolently beams
My nightmares blossom like roses during springs.
But tonight, I hope to meet her in my dreams
For, I’ve heard, she loves broken things.

I’ve heard, in her eyes burn countless constellations
While that winged seraph plays her harp’s strings.
Hopefully, she’ll quell my horror laden hallucinations
For, I’ve heard, she loves broken things.

I’ve heard, her voice calms the restless oceans
& she out carols all the nightingales when she sings.
Perhaps with a lullaby, she’ll soothe my raging emotions
For, I’ve heard, she loves broken things.

I’ve heard, with her humble divine grace
She wraps dysfunctional tragedies in her wings.
Perhaps she’ll wipe the tears too, from my face
For, I’ve heard, she loves broken things.

I’m broken but I consider myself blessed
For some ruins, hold treasures more than the wealthiest of kings
& I’ll outpour my hidden treasures on her heavenly breast
For, I’ve heard, she loves broken things.

To satisfy her abstract compassionate art
With my last breath, I surrender somethings.
I give her my shattered soul, my broken heart;
& perhaps with love, she’ll mend those broken things.

Note: At various junctures of life I’ve often felt ruined beyond repair, this poem is dedicated to people who have often felt broken due to various reasons in their life. In this poem, ‘Broken Things’ is a metaphor for emotionally broken people. Just like mystic treasures are often hidden in ruins similarly divine emotions are hidden within broken people, & if you value a broken person he/she will subliminally pour out his/her heart for you. So if you ever come across a broken person then don’t be judgmental about their past & don’t mock at their scars. Be compassionate & see their scars as spaces that you can fill with your kindness & understanding. For, there is no greater joy than making a broken person feel complete once again. ❤ 

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Kintsugi – Broken is Beautiful

There’s an angel that dwells in the hills,
Whose aura makes every mortals’ heart swell with delight.
Even the moon blushes as it experiences heavenly thrills,
& spell bounded it marvels, her serene smile every night.

 
Her scented shadow conspires to blossom the flowers
More than the blazing bright sun in the skies.
Seraphs in heaven envy of her angelic powers
For it seems a million constellations glitter in her beautiful eyes.
 

In her heart, she paints her innocent dreams
& her mind is a plethora of poetic paradigms.
Though she’s been a victim of life’s unforgiving schemes
But with her divine grace, she outshines her hard times.

 
Often she outgrows her own sufferings
As she listens to others with a genuine intent to understand.
Sadly her kindness gets taken for granted
among other things
Yet she always extends her helping hand.

 
Sometimes she mulls over the futility of life laying on the bed
As wrapped in silence, she feels broken.
Countless memories burn inside her head
Yet about her agony, she gives no token. 

As I witness the shattered hopes of her heart
I intend to use my words like Kintsugi for awhile.
To convey broken is beautiful even if things fall apart
& I hope she’ll smile as big as the river Nile. 

Note: Kintsugi is the Japanese art of mending of broken things by filling them with gold. It is perhaps to remind all of us that if something has suffered some damage or is broken, even then it still has the capability of being something beautiful. This poem is also dedicated to Vanya, a dear follower of mine who unfortunately injured herself a few days back. Today happens to be her birthday, please join me in wishing her a happy birthday as a way of driving the positive vibes for her on her birthday!

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Home Alone

It was a glorious day in mid-December,
When my mother went on a vacation for a week.
Those seven days I vividly remember,
For each day I evolved as a freak.

Dear God would have leaned down from his throne,
& even the angels of heaven would have stared down.
For a careless creature had to manage the house on his own
As like a free bird his mother, flew out of town.

The wild child in me lost his sense of inhibition
& called my friends to party each night.
The delirious degree of madness that used to transition
Made my house feel like a club in Ibiza under the moonlight.

Till the fifth day, I managed things surprisingly well
Until I discovered a recipe book
The demons must have smirked down in Hell
As ultimately paneer tikkas I decided to cook.

While cooking I was calm & composed like an ice cube
Despite never boiling water in my entire life.
But courtesy the recipe book & some videos on YouTube
I sliced paneer like Gordon Ramsey with my knife.

But while cooking perhaps I overdid many spices
Because in the bathroom, my friend had to stay.
My paneer tikkas hit his intestines like some catastrophic crisis
Because suffering from diarrhea he ran to a doctor the next day.

Alone in deep thought I sat in my room
As the trash in the kitchen I forgot to discard.
While pondering on the chaos I caused, I experienced gloom,
& I failed to realize, my kitchen had turned into a junkyard.

I noticed the mess too late as I welcomed Mother with apprehension,
& sensing the impending doom, I didn’t go near.
For I witnessed her turn into Thanos in 8 dimensions,
While my heart crawled down to my bladder in sheer fear.

My mother screamed “How can you be so carelessly wild?”
“How can you even withstand the kitchen’s disgraceful view?”
Smiling sheepishly I said, “I’m careless, but I’m your child,
& perhaps that’s how unorganized I am, without you.”

Note: Don’t misunderstand me I’m rather independent. It’s good to be independent in life, but it’s also good to understand that we will always be children in the eyes of our parents no matter how old we get… I accept that I can be rather clumsy at times, but I also want to emphasize the important role my mother plays & silently ensures that I embrace an organised approach in life. Today being her birthday, I thought of writing this poem to express that if she’s not around then I’d be incomplete without her. This poem is based on a true incident.
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My Nightingale

There was a nightingale in my heart
& sometimes it out-caroled the chaos of the universe.
Whatever sufferings, within me, my fate did impart,
My nightingale soothed my aching soul with it’s symphonic verse.

My nightingale’s eyes shined like an innocent child
& it rested in my heart, as babies rest in their cribs.
But I knew my child, was tenaciously wild
& so I hid it in the cage of my ribs.

My angel of hope sang to me in the dark
As it protected me from my every shattered night.
It quelled the restless beating of my helpless heart
& calmed the war in my mind amidst my plight.

Whenever the moon would blissfully beam,
My nightingale used to look into my eyes.
It sang beautifully like verses from a poet’s dream,
& its awe-inspiring songs made my wounded soul rise.

My nightingale wanted to fly freely like the west wind
But its only sin was selflessly loving me.
For the burden of responsibilities made me blind
& my nightingale’s desire I could no longer see.

My remorse no mortal could ever understand
As I walked alone through the passage of time.
I felt as if I killed my child with my own hand
For my nightingale’s song had lost its rhyme.

Note: Remember when you were a child? How each day you had a new dream? As life moved on, as you grew older & were burdened with the weight of the expectations & responsibilities, you changed. You lost somewhere, you started ignoring your dream & your earnest desires. The nightingale in this poem is a symbol of those dreams & through the medium of this poem I want to reach out to the dreamer in you… There is no greater loss than losing yourself & there is no greater sin ignoring or killing your dreams. So live in the moment, protect your dream & if required be ready to fight for it! Sending love & positive vibes may all your dreams transmute into reality. ❤

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Worthy

Starlit scarlet shined in my teary eye
As in darkness, I fell apart.
I helplessly watched my hope die
While fear impaled the blooming dreams in my heart.

Others saw me as a delusional dreamer in the dark
& to them, I was the unwanted enigma.
They ignored my soul’s symphonic spark
So I quietly carried my social stigma.

Like a Rubik’s cube, I was a beautiful mess
& the complex algorithm of my life none could understand.
Feeling worthless I carried my stress that I couldn’t express
Until you entered my life & gently held my hand.

The autumn breeze gently perfumed the air
While under the shade of a tulip tree, one day we met.
The blossoms glided like snow, upon your jet black hair
As you said things to me, that I will never forget.

In terror, my helpless heart used to shrink
While others’ stripped my confidence from pole to pole.
Yet you told me not to care about what others think
As with your unconditional love, you healed my aching soul.

Having lost everything in life, insecurities slithered underneath my skin
But you came as a blessing from high heavens above.
By losing your heart to my rhymes you
immortalized my solitary
& I felt worthy… felt worthy of your divine love.

Note: Heard the song Creep by Radiohead? Well that’s how I felt for a long duration of my life, I’ve tried to fit-in & be accepted by people around me but I terribly failed in that… I was a cynical scoundrel (perhaps still am to some extent), but regardless of my darkness when I started this blog you embraced me with your love & understanding. I may not be able to express the true extent of love for my followers but hope understand how grateful I really am , towards you all. Through this poem I also want to express is that everyone is worthy of something special like this & those who believe in your goodness would support you even when you feel lost in your worst condition.

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Let Go

While the moon blatantly beams
She waltzes on your dying dreams.
I feel the sorrow in your soul that streams
I hear the agony of your silent screams.

Your soul is shattered & you feel broken
As from a beguiling dream, you’ve now awoken.
You shrink, about your fears you haven’t spoken
For she has given you a tormenting token.

I know your love was true
I see the pain you went through.
In the journey of life as she abandoned you
You did, something that you know, you shouldn’t do.

Perhaps in her heart you lost your place
Perhaps with someone else she had you replaced.
But don’t spill the acid of your venomous words on her face
For I never want your inner goodness to be misplaced.

I know things didn’t go as per your plan
For love’s an enigma that disobeys our planned command.
Remember that in some way she made you a better man
But now you deserve someone better, I hope you understand.

In love more than the outcome, its the memories that matter
So don’t overthink the past & bitterly cry.
Don’t let your selfless soul ever shatter
For, someone else is meant to be the sun in your sky.

I know, you loved with a pure heart
So gently live & let your being’s beauty glow.
She may have caused your world to fall apart
But don’t beg her to stay, instead gracefully let go.

Note: Few days ago, my friend was dumped by his girlfriend & with the bitterness that burnt within him, he said stuff about her that wasn’t justified in anyway that disturbed me personally to a great extent. I agree she might have been heartless towards you & that goodbyes are tough to digest but we all come from a woman, so how can we say nasty things about another? As they say love knows it’s own depth only at the time of separation… through this poem I offer my sincere support to all those who have loved & lost. I also want to emphasize that don’t let anyone’s actions displace the goodness that I know breathes within you. Someday we all will be reduced to mere memories, so lets do our best to be remembered as a good memory in someone’s mind. Always remember in the end, only 3 things matter: how purely you love’d, how well you tried to sustain it & how gracefully you let go of someone, who wasn’t meant for you.

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Priceless

They say some of the most priceless things are often found in ruins. Perhaps, that’s why Vincent poetic gift of words would often get lost in his macabre melancholic outlook towards life. His dark perspective towards life was paved by his traumas & insecurities that impaled the most innocent fragments of his tender soul. Though his mother tried her best to sustain his happiness, since childhood, while dealing with financial vows, Vincent’s innocent dreams were often crushed under the burden of responsibilities. He always wanted to be a poet, but to support his family financially, he chose to be a banker. All his salary used to go towards the household expenditure managing the monthly expenses.

Vincent was a quiet gentleman, who always had a storm of emotions swirling in his soul. He preferred to write rather than speak as a way of expressing himself. Every fortnight after completing his shift, Vincent used to take his poems to publishers, but the ignoramus publishers were prisoners to their limited paradigms & hence they failed to comprehend the beauty of his mind, which was splendidly drenched in darkness.

Perhaps it was this constant rejection from publishers & the sense of deprivation of dreams that made Vincent obsessed, he began to lust over the thought of getting his book published. He knew he had the capability of transmuting his nightmares into symphonic arias of faith for others. He wanted to bleed his heart out on the pages of his book. He wanted to galvanize the souls of many silent suffers like him. He wanted to be the voice of the voiceless. He wanted to be heard, he wanted to be understood…

In the wake of destruction, recovering from a depressing day at the bank & another frustrating rejection from an imbecile publisher, Vincent decided to meet Sonja at twilight.

The world always saw Vincent as an emotionally complex individual. To some extent, Vincent also saw himself as an agathokakological animal, for he knew the saints & sinners that swam in his soul. Yet Sonja was perhaps the only person who cwtched Vincent’s storms with a heart full of unconditional love. Sonja truly was the light to Vincent’s darkness. She was the beacon of hope that healed his aching soul with her kindness. Every time they met, their hearts connected & conversed a language of love that was more than words.

As the night unfurled its splendor, Vincent & Sonja laid down on the green grass looking up to the sky that floated like melted blue sapphire, inflamed by the fire of countless stars. Sonja noticed a tear drop from Vincent’s eye, she knew that he was a man who would take his grief to his grave rather than cry in front of others. Hence out of concern she asked what was bothering him. In a dreary voice, Vincent said “It’s rather tragic something priceless lies within me, yet I can’t attain it”.

Wiping Vincent’s tears, Sonja motivated him to save from his salary to publish his book rather than rely on some senseless publishers. She inspired him to dream again. It was the sincerity of Sonja’s faith in him through which Vincent dared to dream again of publishing his book.

With a renewed sense of belief and a resurrected vision, Vincent decided to save money by skipping one meal a day in order to fuel the fire of his desire. In time, he managed to save a little for himself. He did overtime at work to get extra money. Sonja was deeply moved by Vincent’s will power & had searched for a suitable publisher who was willing to publish the book for a fee. After doing the calculations, he realised that if he continued this way within five months he would have saved enough money to publish at least 200 copies of his book on his own terms.

Starving in order to feed his obsession, enveloped in the eye of the storm, Vincent used to close his eyes and witness the days & night silently pass by. As the wheel of time carelessly moved on, seasons changed the beautiful summer sun was replaced by the frail winds of autumn. Apart from the season a lot of things, within Vincent changed fundamentally as well. As Vincent struggled, survived & evolved in this self-assigned journey; subliminally he went down the memory lane & was able to understand how hard it would have been for Rosemary, Vincent’s mother, to save money to meet his childish demands. He imagined what she would have gone through to make the ends meet.

Rosemary was an angel in disguise of a human being. Due to the financial struggles in the family, she herself had to sacrifice a lot on her aspirations in life. Yet with her limited resources she never failed to make miracles for Vincent. When Vincent was small & there wasn’t a stable source of income, there were nights when she slept with an empty stomach in order to ensure that her child had proper meal. Often just to satisfy her sense of fulfillment she used to wear a fake Swiss watch, perhaps that illusion of luxury made her humble heart dance with joy. She was a dreamer who often found herself in moments where her aspirations would wither away. Yet rather than lamenting about dying dream, she used to silent smile; for she felt its better to hide some heartaches behind a smile, rather than explain them to others.

Vincent had managed to save the money required to publish his book & this process of going the extra mile for the sake of his dream had resulted in emotions that now erupted in his heart like lava from an active volcano. Vincent hadn’t forgotten Rosemay’s selfless sacrifices; they might have been dormant memories, yet they were bone-deep memories that were engraved within his being. Rosemary’s birthday was around the corner, & so before Vincent went out to meet the publisher (to fulfill his priceless dream), he asked her “What do you want for your birthday, Mom?”. Rosemary who was looking for her fake Swiss branded watch turned to him & replied with selfless grace “I just want to see you smile, your happiness is the greatest gift for me.” Upon hearing this Vincent’s heart melted with delight, for a moment it felt as if time had frozen; for that was the most poetic emotion that he had felt in ages.

Sonja was restless that afternoon, she had received the message for the publisher that Vincent never arrived for the meeting. She was both perplexed & concerned & she wanted to know what caused this change of heart. When Vincent arrived he was greeted by Sonja’s endless questions to which he smiled & said you’ll know all about it tomorrow. He handed the bag to Sonja and requested that she doesn’t open it. Vincent also asked Sonja to give the bag to Rosemary, without telling Rosemary that it was from him. Sonja was intrigued but respecting the bond that they shared & agreed to abide by Vincent’s request without much questioning.

The next day, Sonja went to meet Rosemary. Vincent called Rosemary as he preferred to view the scene from a few steps away. Rosemary was pleasantly surprised that Sonja came to meet her on her birthday. Sonja offered the bag to Rosemary, Rosemary pulled out a leather case with a tag that stated: “Because you are timelessly priceless.” As soon as, Rosemary opened the leather case, sparkles from a shining original Swiss branded watch streamed in Rosemary’s eyes. She was speechless, as tears streamed from her eyes she embraced Sonja with all the love in her heart.

As Sonja hugged Rosemary, she saw Vincent, the Mozart who orchestrated this magical moment. Seeing him smile, Sonja comprehended the epiphany of Vincent choosing to fulfill the life long dream of his mother, over his personal goal. She realized that his heart was freed from the desires of this materialistic world. Vincent now valued the visions & aspirations of others more than his own. No paper, no book & no words were capable of capturing the poetic paradigm that streamed from Vincent’s heart. Sonja clearly saw the light of kindness & humility that now beamed in Vincent’s soul. For he was the man who had discovered & attained the true meaning of priceless.

Note: I’ve always felt that it’s only when we live for others rather than ourselves when we understand the true meaning of life. It is when we are willing to contribute to someone’s smile, rather than selfishly trying to work solely towards our own happiness that we discover the true meaning of joy. Teaching my loved ones to dream again by fulfilling there desires is something that gives a priceless feeling to me. It’s a feeling that I can’t describe in words. This short story intends to highlight that sentiment that there are emotions which are more meaningful that most of the materialistic things in this world. At the end of the day we all will be reduced to a memory in someone’s life, so do your bit to do something priceless for them so that they remember you as a good memory. A special thanks to Leslie with the editing for this post!


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I Survive…

After completing my dad’s funeral at the cremation ground
In darkness, I sat alone on a chair.
While within me this sadness floated around
I cradled my shattered thoughts, that I couldn’t repair.

Abandoned in this aporia I felt cold & dead
As dark thoughts, crumbled my composure.
There was a vicious war inside my head
While the devil smirked sitting on my shoulder.

My demons screamed “There’s a knife in your sight
Use it! For your sufferings would never heal.”
“Choose your last words, in your plight;
As an endless agony, your soul now begins to feel!”

Just when I geared up for the brutal bloodshed
I envisioned a vision of my mother pleading;
I hallucinated her helplessly holding my head
While screaming “Help my son’s wrists are bleeding!”

Although emotionally countless times I had died
Yet in that moment I chose to throw away the knife.
The marauding madness seemed invincible, but I survived
As for my loved ones I chose to embrace life.

I’m only human & I too have some fears
For some untamable nightmares still stream in my eyes.
Yet amidst life’s battle cry I hide my tears
I survive… & to protect others now I rise.

A dream for a better future I hope to harbor
As rising for my loved ones seems worthwhile.
For them, I hide my traumas underneath my armor
I survive… & conquer my demons with a smile.

Note: On 17th June 2014, in the morning my father had expired & it’s one of my most traumatic experiences of my life there were other things too that triggered me to try & commit suicide that night. This poem pertains to the traumatic events that took place that night & how I overcame that. Please don’t get me wrong I don’t want to glorify my real-life nightmare, instead, I want to share about it in an uncensored way with a sole desire to motivate other suffering souls to express about their silent battles. We all break and feel lost at various tormenting turns of life but we must rise & rediscover ourselves for the sake of people who depend on us. We all have a responsibility towards our loved ones, if not towards our own self. Lastly, please be kind & compassionate to others because none knows what battles they fight & survive on their own.


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I’m The Fire

They say I’m toxic & they turn away
For darkness dribbles in every word I say.
Although the tears in my eyes I try not to display
Yet fear unfurl within me in a mysterious way.

My demons smile witnessing the darkness I’ve designed,
And they say “We are two of a kind”.
They enjoy my unsettled melancholic mind
& in this thought my aching soul chooses to unwind.

We waltz under the pale moonlight that blatantly beams
Gradually they smother me with their wicked schemes.
Nightmares are born from my innocent bleeding dreams
As my demons escalate my insecurities to new extremes.

I’m left broken on the ground in a vulnerable state
As in my head I suffer, I suffocate.
But with a rebel spirit my broken self, I integrate
ferocious, furious & fearless, a fire within me I create.

Now, I’m the fire that romances with the horrors of the night
Perhaps the rhymes I write, fills your heart with delight.
But I’m the fire that burns everything, that’s in my sight
I’m the fire that carelessly rages & blazes bright.

I’m the fire that was born from a feeling of disdain
As my horrifying sanity made me insane.
So darling please don’t try to understand my pain
For I don’t want you to burn in my flame.

Witness from afar how I take my traumas in my stride
As none of my bleeding scars I hide.
For every day a new death I’ve died
But now I’m the fire, that burns its melancholy with pride.

Note: Have you ever felt closer (on an emotional level) to your demons as compared to the people around you? Well that’s the dark place my mind is right now & honestly it’s in such situations when I prefer to be alone rather than talk with people. I don’t want to hurt or burn anyone with the fury of my emotional vulnerability because I feel like the fire that rages & burns anything that’s in its course. I appreciate your support & understanding but this internal war of emotions pertaining to the poem that’s due on the 17th June is something I must fight it out on my own. Thank your for your love & support, I hope you understand that I’m not turning my back on you instead I’m addressing some of my past demons & I wouldn’t want to drag you into that emotional mess of mine. I carry this dwelling darkness of mine with pride, as I see it as an opportunity to shine & evolve. ❤

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She’s My Moon

Countless wars rage inside her head
As she’s destined for another sleepless night.
Yet she gently smiles even when she feels dead
For she’s my moon, shining in broad daylight.

She dazzles & decorates my sweetest dreams
While ignoring the pain of her plight.
On my dreams her seraphic aura streams
For she’s my moon, shining in broad daylight.

She’s gracefully surreal, gentle & kind
& in my darkest hour, she’s my light.
She’s my guiding force whenever in the darkness I go blind
For she’s my moon, shining in broad daylight
.

The light of infinite stars can’t match her luminous soul
Because her soul glows so blissfully bright.
Yet modestly, she makes me feel complete & whole
For she’s my moon, shining in broad daylight.

Sometimes her heart breaks as she falls on her feet
Yet she sparkles & says she’s alright.
Like a crescent, she shines even while feeling incomplete
For she’s my moon, shining in broad daylight.

She conquers her darkness, taking her sufferings in her stride
While she heals my scars being considerate & polite.
She’s my inspiration, she’s my pride
For she’s my moon, shining in broad daylight.

Note: This poem is inspired by a particular friend of mine who is really close to me on an emotional level but I further extend this dedication to all the wonderful women who have graced my life with their understanding & kindness. I’ve used moon as a metaphor and as a symbol for kindness, gentleness & selfless love that a woman’s heart contains within it. Like the moon, I often feel that women(while playing various roles & carrying on with their responsibilities) outshine the darkness around them with the divine light that dwells within them. So this one poem is meant to highlight this angelic trait of women & I personally want to thank all my angels of mercy for inspiring me with their blissful brilliance. It is your selfless love & understanding, which has taught me that, one can shine even when they feel incomplete. ❤

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The Underdog’s Fight Song

I see a wounded underdog cry at night
For his traumas scream in his sleep.
If only you could witness his nightmares take flight
Perhaps you’d join him for a weep.

His demons like crouched tigers corner him in the dark
& the silent suffer, has his back against the wall.
His fears rage a storm in his heart
As he breaks, his soul begins to crumble & fall.

The endless expectations crush his shoulder
As failure rapes his confidence from within.
The madness of the moment rattles his composure
While his insecurities slither wildly underneath his skin.

Victimized by his fiendish fate’s violence
He lays vulnerably, in a pool of bloody memories & tears.
Yet the underdog licks his wounds in silence
With an earnest urge to conquer his fears.

His head bleeds but remains unbowed
As he slowly crawls up back on his feet.
With a spirit of redemption, he roars aloud
For the underdog knows, he wasn’t born to accept defeat.

His scars bleed songs of glory
As a metamorphosis is palpably visible in his eyes.
Perhaps someday, people will know his story
But for now, the warrior in him begins to rise.

The serendipity of this agony seems surreal
While towards a war, his pride makes him march on.
Against his demons, he may bleed, but he’ll never kneel
Because till his last breath, he’ll sing his fight song.

 

Note: There have been countless instances when I’ve had my back to the wall & the odds were stacked against me while I constantly found myself trying to justify & rediscover my true capabilities in life as an underdog. This poem is dedicated to everyone who at some point in their lives felt like an underdog. As an underdog we sometimes fail, the level of expectations of other loved ones seems unreal & we are often plagued by our fears but it’s precisely at this juncture that I want you to believe in your potential even when things don’t seem right. Please always take a stand to protect your pride, honor & dreams because “I failed” is more honorable than “I quit”. Hail & embrace the determination of the underdog that breathes with you! ❤ 

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Maa, Do You Remember?

You nurtured me in your womb
& till this day you keep me in your heart.
Though most of the times I stay in my room
But our intertwined heartbeats, shall never part.

Today, before the crack of dawn
I want to say how much I care.
Sitting in my room for you I wrote this song
Hoping some old memories together we can share.

Maa, do you remember? How lullabies, you used to sing
& upon hearing them, how I used to rejoice?
Even with limited resources, you made me feel like a king
Whenever you blessed me with your priceless voice.

Maa, do you remember? How you used to hold my hand
& how I used to see the emotions in your eye?
For even as a kid I used to understand
Your silent pain, whenever a dream of yours used to die.

Maa, do you remember? A random depressing night?
When we were haunted by our nightmares?
You used to say everything’s going to be alright
While you mentioned my name in all your prayers.

Perhaps you’d forgotten all this being so selflessly true
While walking on broken glass, as life’s been hostile.
But Maa, I’ll never forget all that you’ve been through
& now I just want to see you, always smile.

Note: As the wheel of time carelessly moves on, mothers often forget their acts of kindness towards their kids… They don’t aspire a batch of honor… the smile of their child means the world to them, but I feel we should address & be grateful to our mothers, for all that they’ve done for us. I know for a fact that I will never be capable of repaying her for all that she has done for me, but I wrote this poem to express, appreciate & acknowledge the divinity of her selfless love towards me. Happy Mother’s Day to mothers across the globe. ❤      

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The strongest warrior isn’t a people who carries dreadful weapons… The strongest warrior, is a mother who is determined to sustain & protect the smile of her child. That’s how my mother protected me when I was born. 

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Quote: Don’t Cry

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Note: As a small kid I had this fear of losing the people I love… Gradually, people left, but that childhood fear didn’t. There were countless instances of people (whom I cared for) chose to abandon me. I guess as they say the saddest thing about such betrayals is that they never come from an enemy. Being wrapped in such emotional insecurities, I realized the importance of being the prophet of my own happiness. Don’t let your happiness be dependent on someone else & don’t shed tears for someone who destroyed the sparkle of your smile. Never compromise on your lovely smile because of anyone or anything. You do matter! ❤   


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I Wish…

Behind the comfort of my locked door
Tonight, your memory sparkles in my tears.
The agony of your absence, I can’t handle anymore
As I helplessly drown in my fears.

None of your haunting horrors, you had revealed
None of your nightmares, you shared.
Behind fake smiles, countless tears were concealed
Perhaps as you felt no one truly cared.

You quietly suffered maintaining your composure
& often walked alone, the depressing long mile.
I wish… I could’ve taken the load off your shoulder
& walked with you, to hopefully see you smile.

You selflessly sacrificed yourself in life’s battlefield
As you protected me from every sadness.
I wish… I could’ve been your shield
That saved you from all that madness.

Fangs of regret now pierce my neck
As vividly the visions appear of that depressing day
Vulnerably, I shrink like an emotional wreck
Recalling these words to you, that I couldn’t say.

I try to help others, believe me, dad I try
& I think of you, whenever my heart cries.
But I’ve immortalized you in my soul’s inward eye
So carrying your legacy, like a phoenix, now I rise.

Beyond the tangents of time & space
Someday, somewhere, I shall meet you.
I wish… to wipe your tears from your face
As together we’ll smile, while life shall blossom anew.

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Notepad: As a child, when I was sitting on my dad’s back I truly felt like the king of the world & that nothing could ever harm me. Such was the charisma of my dad, he didn’t give dreamy illusions; instead, with his limited resources he quietly was the architect of my dreams. Despite our financial crisis, he ensured that there wasn’t a single thing on which I felt deprived of. He was not just my dad, he was my guardian angel. Almost 6 years ago he was terminally ill with lung cancer, seeing him vomit blood on his death-bed made me feel helpless. I wish… I could have done more to save my guardian angel. It’s this regret, that’s like a tormenting trauma that always dwells within me. Yet carrying on with his legacy, I try to help others around me, in whatever way I possibly can. I try to be a guardian angel for others, with the intent that perhaps someday if I ever meet him he’ll see me more than just a man whose hollowed by his regret & his emotional trauma. I’m not perfect like you, but I try to make you proud & smile. Happy Birthday, Dad! With every heartbeat I miss you. 

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because every individual is a bundle of stories & I’d like to know you better. 🙂

Quote: Wings

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Note: “It matters not how strait the gate how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul” – from Invictus. We may not be in a position to control a hostile situation but we certainly are in control of the way we respond to that adversity. So in such tough times, I urge my readers to not lose hope & continue to generate positive thoughts. We all are born to fly like the eagles in our own skies of happiness, so why do you choose to crawl into a spell of negative vibes. So spread your wings & conquer your fears. For me personally April ushers in a lot of melancholic memories (some of the upcoming poems may be a bit sad)… I too will try to implement this notion, as I’ll try to decorate my sadness in the form of poetry to delight you, folks. Here & now we are infinite! ❤    

If you liked this post, then I humbly request you to like, comment & follow my blog. 🙂

You may connect with me on Instagram: gentleman.is.quiet

because every individual is a bundle of stories & I’d like to know you better. 🙂