The pangs of an early riser

Struggling to emerge out of
that soft cuddly white blanket
fat and fuzzy.
It is a fight every single day..
The nose red and numb
watering due to the incessant cold.
No,it is just time for the last metro,
but my mind sways in favour of my bed.
I want to merge into sleep
so tempting and so needed
in the shivering winter mornings.
Alas,time keeps chasing me into reality
and I jump out of my comfortable paradise
to a morning,
full of traffic,angry abuses and
a fear to catch up on my attendance.
And,you say men should follow their dreams!
Hah,only in their dreams,you mean!!

Agony Aunt

Ripping through the last of the letters
addressed to my exhausted memory
I pray for a little bit of closure.
The sound of salt water trickling
annoys my senses
I let my tongue touch the moist waste
flowing like they will never stop.

I want to look into your eye
make them burn
pierce your soul
make your heart swell up in guilt
I want to stab that fake smile
that unending spirit in you
I want you to feel the way I did
'cos you deserve no less.


Will you please tell me why?
Why I wasn't enough
as a companion, as company.
As there are still a few letters left
in my sadistic brain
and until you confess, why?
I Wont find the closure I need.

Beast

They were right about her,
all along,every time.
They claimed.
She hid well.
Well enough for her to last.
Last long enough
for the damage to be done.
She had a certain glint
in her eyes,
and a smirk. very unusual.
Even the constant allegations
were neglected.
She was playing her part
naive,talkative and intriguing.
She scripted the acts,
directed them accordingly
and sabotaged several
who confronted her territory.
She was greedy now,
for the taste of victory,
as every win tempted her more.
But,time came for loss.
Loss was not something
she knew of, it turned her mad,
wild like the hurricane.
She attempted,
to finish her story,
struggling to come out clean,
but in the tiring hassle
she ended up killing
her very own self.

Venting

How many times have you heard,"nothing can be done about it,""it is not in their hands," "they have too much to handle." If the authorities can't handle a situation,we are accepted to let it be, cos, they have too much to worry about,or if you want to not accept it,too bad,then you need to solve your own problem. The most common answer given to any citizen who complains about the lack of services that they are entitled to is "why don't you stand for elections and change the system." Why will I stand for elections? I will vote,hell yes I will and I will remain a citizen and make them do their work cos I have my own work to deal with as a citizen.


I am a citizen and Irrespective of whether I am the majority or not I am to be served by the government. I am here with a bigger task to form the government,so if they can't even perform the task of working the government,they don't deserve our money,they don't deserve taxes.


I admit every branch of the government have work piling up everyday,but if I walk into a police station I deserve to be attended to. I am not going to walk in with evidence and finish most of their work. It is absolutely disgusting to find that most of the police authorities would like proof for a complain,now lets get this straight,should not this be like I complain you get the proof and catch the bad guy. Or a citizen is supposed to meet their harasser, chit chat with them,get their photo,identity and necessary details for the cops,so that they could get a medal for their bravery and courage and efficiency. Sounds ridiculous,right?But that's the whole real deal. What could be even better if they are waiting for that particular harasser to do something big enough with the citizen so that they could start working on the issue. Now I thought the police is supposed to protect us,and not take into account whether the harassment is big enough for them to pay any attention to it. Unless its a rape or a murder,you don't lift your head to find the offender.


India is a democracy or so I heard,but it is sad that citizens themselves belittle their importance. We have forgotten that if you are a citizen the government is at your service,every branch of it is at your service. Unfortunately the notion of the government being of the people,by the people and for the people has lost its relevance amidst lethargic and indifferent citizens.

Time flies.

It was put back in the closet,deep down under a load of clothes,books and scattered papers.It was dumped back in time,long ago.She missed and longed for it. Sometimes,she would even look for it through the messy heap,but it was gone. Hidden so well that it stopped existing. She would miss those memories etched,but now gone forever. The furious stupidity of that grumpy boy or more the instant vivacity of that wide eyed girl or even the eccentric lunacy of that frizzy haired female.
They were so much of life for her,now they were more than dead. Sarah stared at the Pink cardigan sticking out of her brown closet and laughed with a tear in her eye.

Solitary

Rocking the chair to and fro,
swift and sassy.
Not one morsel
the empty vessels glaring
questioning her about the spaces,
the cracks in the wood
and the walls staining.

Every twilight would pass
and her bronze earrings would vibrate
at the sound of inviting footsteps.
The door,empty,
a cold hard breeze rushing in,
and her fingers reaching the damp switch,
commencing the end of another time of hope.

She screamed at those curtains,
the ones hanging loosely
on the big window near the balcony.
Red,rotten,entangling her,
entangling her fingers.
her veins.
Twisting her bones,
choking her blood.

She would let those curtains, abuse her,
because they alibied out every time.
She would be left,
with the empty vessels glaring at her,
the cracks and the stains.
The vacant doorway,the window,the curtain,
all the same,all mundane.

Soul searching.

They say twenty years of life is nothing,it is just the tip of an entire ice berg. Funny,considering how only a tip of that drowned an entire ship.I have lived twenty years and a little more,I have lived in hell and heaven. True to common belief life is a roller coaster ride,it's schizophrenic,bipolaric and the rest too.


I have exams in five days,this time in particular makes me think a lot.With so much to study distraction sweeps me off my concentration easily. I have thought a lot,about people. I have thought about life without them and with them.This instance there is a heart break and u absorb,yes,human beings tend to absorb. I have absorbed. I feel shaken. I wish my mom would have never taught me perspective,because implementing it is scary.


You wont believe me,when I say it is scary?It is horrifying to hear tears and even more horrifying to have that person trust you with them.I will be beside you fails to work when your heart is pierced with the expected impending doom. You know it will kill you,but you wait,holding your breath,your faith,for a change of mind, Only if life were a movie. The dagger is slashed across the soul eventually,and you collect those bits and pieces and sew them together,but you are never the same.


A beautiful monster rips the cages of your ribs and you let it happen.

When people poke fun of Sarah
she just smiles and shows them the mirror
and to their horror,
that would be all. :)

A tangled chain.
A dark tunnel,
and pitch darkness..
What you lose?
becomes your gain
and you build your world.
Light up the grey corners
and you let in a visitor.

What follows?
A journey,
through the tunnel,
piercing through that pitch darkness
and one breaks free.

Sara needed a shoulder
a shoulder to cry on?
In the midst of a bustling market
smelling of fish liver
and rotten potatoes,
she struggled for a glimpse,
a glimpse of that shoulder?
She dashed through that dingy lane,
shadowed by the dimness
of the awkward evening.
Sara still looking...
for a shoulder to cry on?
She climbed up
those winding iron stairs,
she noticed,
what she was looking for?


A pain pierced,
her throat,
like a needle.
Not enough time,
to scream...
A shoulder carried her
to the cemetery.
Sara needed a shoulder
a shoulder to cry on?

A short Story.

We met,
on this windy afternoon.
I asked him
how do you do?
he gave me
a cold stare
I asked him
what do you see?
He showed me
the empty road.
I questioned again,
why is the road empty?
He nudged away in disgust
I looked,followed him
as he walked past away
he paced his walk,
galloped,almost running,
he looked back at me,
a fear,so crisp and clear.
I stopped,he slowed down
but he didn't stop,
he went along that empty road,
alone,cos I stood where I was.

Tell me that you gaze at me
the times I fix my hair
tell me that it hurts your eyes
every time I whine
I like it when you wake me up
from my fears
You do it so well,and fast.

Your eyes gleam like the sun
and makes my eyes glint with the glow
You let me get away with all
my whims and sobs.

Like the rainbow falling down
on the valley so deep n brown
I hear the birds chirping around
drawing circles on the pale blue sky
I am not the evil saint here
nor the shallow devil
I am just in the midst of slight agony.
My pulse throbbing against my wrist
is strangling my restless heart,
I am not afraid of anything,
even love.

There is so much left to feel,
but I can't even hardly breathe,
my mind is getting throttled
by your sight.
but,
I am not afraid of anything,
even death.

Girl and Boy

Helter Skelter,
every bloody place,
bumping into every brick wall and pillar.
Inviting a mess every time.
Extra tons of flesh
worries her
screaming,screeching shouting her way
for herself and everyone else.
A little sane a lot insane
Always Impressed,hardly ever Impresses.
Lost in her own world of Prince charmings.
She,
a bunch of mad impossibilities.



Cool and Calm,
everywhere.
Never in the wrong path,
or the wrong way.
Invites others into mess,
never in one himself.
Fierce,known,aware
not one screech,scream not even a shout,
believes in being firm.
Basks on the epitome of sanity
Impresses,hardly ever Impressed.
Always finds himself in bitter sweet reality.
He,
a bit of a charming perfection.

The two met,
fell in love
and hence begins,
an excitingly odd love story.

A silent ache
lots of salt and moist
a fragile pain
consistent lump in the throat
but those fingers running through the uneven fringes
does wonders to the dent in her heart.
Maybe it IS a miracle...

To My Lil Mischief

Next time,
my Lil boy
I will hold you're hand so tight
that never will you decide,
to make us face the tough path
to realize you're true value.

And,next time,
my Lil son,
will come very soon :)

Conversation.

You always find biased supporters for the wrongs you have done,
even If you don't find even one when you are correct.
Many come to applause a bold expression of selfishness,
being selfless is just stupidity.
An act for sympathy
an old and decadent concept
good only in scripts for amateur movies.
Amazing it is, but you will find solace in no one
not a bit of acknowledgement for a noble act
only the one with greed and ambition have many takers.
Just turn around and see so many pointing fingers at you
cos being a martyr is not a good thing anymore...


What is good?
A hot cup of coffee
for a bad cold,
A handful of good music
for a tired mind
and a comforting corner
in the damp rains.

A Lost Friend.

The giggles,the laughter,the madness
the discoveries,the understanding,the concern
seem to be over.
A warm and beautiful company lost,
as times and reasons,rational and logic
fades the bond.

but,it is not like every other heart break,
it is a loss of a friend :(

Colour-Fool.

It is insane how these flood of thoughts
surround the crazy mind
one loses the way to the solutions
through the infinite maze.
You walk,you observe,you chase,
but you keep going around
the same circle,the same road.


The paint from the portrait is fading
and very little time has been granted
to search for all the colours
to finish the picture of her life
frantic,tensed,she is
looking for this shade
slightly paler than turquoise blue.
She,also needs...
a bit of peach
a splash of bold red
and plenty of grey.

She is adamant,
the colours will sort her times
it will bring fulfillment
to her desire,
which has been
cheated by some,
wounded by many.


Alas...
dust gathers on her incomplete painting
as the poisonous colours
throttle her fragmented soul.