Uncensored.

Just save me from the anguish
The lies and woes 
Of a new world.
Take me to a place I'd know
As my own.
Take me somewhere 
Where the happy winds
Overwhelm my soul's desires. 
Let me be free and loved
Away from the betrayal of those
Who said they mattered before.
I'm a naked soul
Stripped bare off my life's doings
Lessons not needed, learned
While pain still traps my chest.
Tears for fears seem untold
None who'd ever understand..
For comfort and love is my want
Not just a sentence of incompetence. 
Shivering in absolute rawness
Fatigue now upon my eyes
A deep slumber, an uncalled escapade
To the one's who's arms keep me warm.
Thresholds crossed beyond explanation
Zombies come and go
I stay like a lingering shadow
Hoping for my day to glow.
Lost drives and strength
A want to just cocoon
No intoxication. No skin. No touch.
Just a place.. a little too much?

Chimes.

Innocence looked up in awe as she twirled her dainty fingers around the delicate strings of a bronze wind chime. She loved the tingly sound of the wind blowing through the thin woven metal strips wrought in detailed patterns. The sound reminded her of her mother's laugh-so simple and pure.

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Mama was away on a vacation, they told me. They said she needed to be away from me. I never understood why. Who would comb my hair then? They said aaji would do it, but only mama knew how to tie my blue ribbon in a perfect bow.

"Your mama is sick, Laila", they'd keep saying.

I always knew mama was a little easily upset, but aren't most adults? She used to change her voice sometimes, and sometimes, I never knew who she was. She forgot me too, but I still loved her. Maybe mama also forgot things, just like I forgot my ABC in kindergarten. They still kept saying she was ill.
Late at nights she used to say she were going to bed, but I saw her shadows in the kitchen light, looking for something frantically or just crying in sheer sorrow. I never knew why she was so sad.
When I would go up to her, she would beat me up and tell me I was a bad child,  but I still got her flowers hoping she would love me the next day.

That's when they took her away.
She cried and screamed. She broke all my dolls and toys. Her eyes were so angry and red, that daddy and the doctor had to tie her down to a bed with tight ropes. I saw her face as it convulsed in grim torture. "I love you, mama", I whispered softly, hoping she would remember me before they took her away.

I never cried, because I never knew. Only a gloomy darkness of grey towered me, and often I'd wake up feeling a pair of eyes on me. But soon they died too, just like a part of me-when mama was buried. 

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Now, the beautiful butterflies still hang on the wind chime, rusted and fading. As each part of them falls, her mother's grip fades.
Her eyes moisten.
Her heart fills.
But, she smiles.  

Pristine White.

There was ambiguity in her reflection

The clear waters seem to bluff-

They hid a tale amidst soft waves,

The sort told in the epoch of caves.

Clad in soft, pristine white

Silky black hair falling on her face;

Her expression seemed calm and knowing

A life of love and happiness showing.

The Stuff of Dreams

Everyday I wake up feeling like the past 8 months of my life were just a dream, nightmare or whatever you'd like to call it.. and in reality I'm still sitting on my study table preparing for my 12th board exams and clearly having fallen into a deep slumber of vivid dreams.

Funny, isn't it?

What if all we're living is just a premonition of what's going to happen?
What if everything we are right now is just a sign for us to take the right decisions once we wake up?
Maybe that can explain the stagnation in our lives. Explain why sometimes we feel we try to hard, but reach no end.
Isn't that the stuff of dreams?

You feel like you're running a great marathon to reach the pot of gold at the rainbow's end.. but actually that idea of gold is just a reflected mirage. You still keep running.. directionless now.

And when you suddenly stop in fatigue, and fall flat on the ground with a large thud; you then snap out like a camera flash, and figure how the blueprint to your future is simply in negatives.
You wake up, wipe the drool off your face, and either go develop the negatives or maybe just throw them in the bin.

As you like it!

Renewed.

I haven't been writing much. In fact, I haven't been writing at all; except those moments wherein I've tried to squeeze out all my creativity to only land up with something demeaning and dark. Guess it was indeed a long drawn phase of unnecessary withdrawal..but now, it's time to take complete charge of myself, and my life. What I always stood for and believed in, has been completely washed away in the past 8 months. My life has changed in such a large manner, that I can never really identify with who I am. While I still watch myself slowly float out of this indecisiveness, a few things about me are clearly for the keeps. :)

PS: I've completely changed my blog style. I want my blog and my writing to reflect on who I am, not on only the negative aspect of instances in my life. There's a lot I'm taking out of life around me, but sadly not giving it the sort of importance it deserves.

You've got to embrace the change.
Stand up for yourself.
Fight the system.
Love a lot.
Live crazily.
Feel happy.
And above all, never ever in the process, lose your true identity. :)

Two.

Two. 

We're two. 

In a world of fear. 

She loves being cared. 

And I, I love my tomb of silence. 

I stay and muse on the ghosts around. 

She's an undefined part - one I'll never get.

I'm just her harlot. Her slave. Her faithful minion.

She doesn't know where she'll get. What she'll become.

But me. I know. I know it all. I'm there at the back. Forgotten. 

When the clocks strike, and the moon disappears. She'll turn to me. 

And I, I'll silently whisper words of resurrection. For, we're one. Always. 

Lies.

Soft mellow eyes. Hurtful truths.
Why would you want them to be,
An epoch in your memory?
Wrathfully sewn and carefully silenced.
Illusioned to love.
Illusioned to lust.
An underlying ghost of past shadows.
Nothing concrete.
Nothing strong.
Just a string of indelible words.
Shattered minds of a thousand lives,
Cracked reflections of broken mirrors.
Yet they defy who you are,
A mystery to the mind's soul.
As simple as black or white,
Dark moonlit river of lies.