I have turned off all notifications on my phone, except for old school phone calls. (I may or may not have watched The Social Dilemma over the weekend) However, this exercise got me thinking about… More
She wants to look for will-o-wisps in the darkest corners of the night
She dreams of places forming the most wonderous sight
She talks, excitedly, of passions
advocating with all her might
She gives up at times, yes, but never without a fight
You’d remember her whenever you see a burning ember of light
And she’d call you silly, while laughing with pure hearted delight
I’ll find my happiness
Where the sun shines
And I’ll share it with you
From noon till night
Under a clear sky
Where only the wind chimes
Can you tell me where dreams go to die?
In the dreamer’s tearful eyes
Or in the broken pieces of his still beating heart?
Or the soft sound of your receding footsteps
Silently tearing me apart?
Immortalised in poetry
Is that what you’ll have of me?
Do you also get anxious
When the sun starts to set?
As if, as if
It’ll repeat itself
In the solace of darkness
Under a canopy of dreams
On the very bed of your desires
You’d be killed all over again
Is the live long night
A living nightmare for you too?
The loudest noises don’t come from our surroundings
Sometimes they come from within
Jarring you awake
And painfully excruciating
The mirror of your self image
The one you thought you were
With immense pride
Asking it who the fairest of all was
And knowing it to be you
Yes, that mirror
From side to side
And the shattering glass
Pierces your heart
From where on
It’s a question of choice
To be reborn, rebuilt and live up
To your expectations of yourself
Or to wallow in self pity
Deriving consolation from your misery
Bleeding and festering
I hope when push comes to shove
When you’re shown an actual mirror
You show true fairness to your self
And choose to do the former
I could hear bells ringing in the night time
Tolling in another day
I could here footsteps outside my door
Restlessly trying to find their way
I could hear raindrops fall on my window sill
Washing off the stench of dirt and decay
I could hear
Even if I couldn’t move from where I lay
I wished the reaper
Would arrive without further delay
As I desperately clutched a coin
With which the ferryman I’d pay
There’s a lot still left to write about
But tonight I’m content with the way you feel
The sum total of all our desires
Is a broken heart skipping a beat
This quarantine I lost a few things.
The struggle of locating car keys in the morning got replaced by a quiet cup of tea while dad read the morning news out loud.
The scramble to cook and pack breakfast and lunch into multiple tiffin boxes slowed down into serene hours spent in the kitchen learning and swapping recipes with mom, getting a glimpse of the secret ingredient she never forgot to use (it’s love, in case you were wondering).
The mad rush of traffic punctuated with continuous honking horns gave way to leisurely hours on the terrace watching the world pass me by.
The daily excuse of too much work or connectivity error preventing me to even revert to texts from friends melted into video chats and online games, reconnecting over shared fun and frolick.
Yes, this quarantine I lost quite a few things.
And found myself anew.