" SABER "



Shrouded in steel he stood afar
Looking at the petals being showered at my every step .....
I walked along the fate that the world fashioned for me
Aversely with a rictus and danced into their obliged web.....

I arrived at the dark , being greeted by the metal
It's iciness getting drenched to my skin where only regret lies .....
Sweat is what I inhale along with brine
Both from the armour and emotions cascading down his eyes....

I was being traded-off as a dowry, for opulence of the pedestal
Rearing and reaping stories - I think power turn people into stone.....
Through longing and lives used tragedies as a medal
Because the law was unerring, that no blood could atone ......

-

To be a " WOMAN "

My elbows have gained barnacles
Rusted from staring out of windows,
Pocketing all the desperate wishes I'd take back into my jar....
Spoils from romance warfare....
My heart is nothing but a vestibule....
Filled with vinegared thoughts and soiled bandaids and granule....

My gosh, to be a woman in this desperately hopeful
Yet irrevocably hopeless generational pool,
Such musings you'd wander around seeking consolations
And feeding your ego for that one lousy approval....
When everything beautiful and tragic, becomes nothing more
But confetti on the floor, would you still love the woman that is me?

I've dangled myself as the vengeful waif who was to tame....
(the sorrowful trinket, the submissive hag, the apathetic lover and many other silhouettes)
That warmed the beds of people but never gained the ring or their last name....
I have brewed all the wasted sunsets I've witnessed alone....
In my mug and drink them in mornings that reminded me that another year had passed, and still I wait in this window, looking up to atone....

Is hurting ourselves while pleasing others still our hobby
Is this all there is, and why though?

-

" STRANGE CHILD "

In the ashes of lost times
A feeble breath find himself wondering of his past life sins
His existence that his own giver loathed, maybe
The loud pounding in his head
His heart capsizing in the furious streams
This life he meant was mean
It felt like bricks in his mouth
Like feathers in his throat
He gagged every time he spoke
Yet couldn't find the right words
So he Spat them out

His arms hurt from the weight
His belly hurts from forgetting to eat
His legs too big for that dress
His spine too inclined that feel like slipping
Out of his body and into the dirty water
Broke his bones and choked his trust
Lost the identity, as lake diluted the salt
Forgot he ever was himself
This disgusting thing
This beast
That was once unprotected , neglected, forgotten
Cause the hands which were meant to save, they gave-up ....

-

" NOT A DRUNKEN STUPOR "


In the hustled cambers of their bones
Stinks brewed, and shadows whispered
Presence of pulse - a lament
Latency in breath - a burrowed sigh

Soul wandered drapped in midnight
Who's the thief? Maybe time.....
Stealing laughter and withered hope
Leaving trails of echoes and faded songs ...

Yet in this grapple ...
A sense of flicker, a tender spark
The warmth of memory was felt
Still flowing in their vessels ....

The soft glow of a forgotten embrace
An unyielding wishper of pain....
Each beat- a rebellion with the ghost
Another day to be piled with skeptic stains....

-

" MENDING "

Folded red Alphabets of cinders and parched fire
Too late to realise, every moment was nothing but satire
Taunts of the overwhelming shadows and storms
Reminding them of the ignored advices and warns

Frost nebula,posed on the dampened eyes
Melting into fountain of misery and breakage
Cold war transpiring out of womb of the head
For all the promises that weren't meant to be shred

It was kind of trust that was built to be broken
On the table of vulnerability, was left the tear thirsty pen
Because the longer the guard is kept standing
The harder the exile of the emotion will be .......

-

" OPAL OF THE ORIENT "



Smouldering building - a backdrop
To the small stories and big emotions....
A sombre and serious scene flashing
Itself into the survivor's attention.....
Fully of human agony and hopelessness,
Hanging on by perplexity
The neighborhood was crumbling to yield
And fit in neoliberal urbanization ......

-

" MUNDANE "

She used to think giving flowers was mundane,
Lodging grandeur over simplicity, just to sustain...
Is now standing where the earth meets the
endless blue
Showering his grave with petals, in hues of every hue.....

Each petal a word she left unsaid,
Their missed embrace,
A testament to love's quiet grace.....
In life, she overlooked the beauty in the small,
Now, in absence, she is finally giving in her all.....

For what was once mundane, now holds the essence of regret,
A realization that love's not about the transaction one can get.....
The flowers, once trivial in her everyday bloom,
Became symbol of love that couldn't find its voice too soon.....

-

" RELICS "

Sanity has always been a figment of my fancy
Ignorance was bliss until I tracked my own tangle ments
I opened the door of life with Keys of monsoon
Only to find a hungry world clinging to sunlight
For every crumb of warmth ....

Fed on morsels of my chimeric settlements...
(Wandering ......)
Do I need to belong or can I just live in instalments ....
Fragile sentiments are lethal, defect in our sense...
For this generation is Infected with ambivalence ....

Mind wins, when the heart becomes abstract
Diffidence habitually covering up the motivation
Letting the pipe dreams down came with difficulties .....
But atleast I won't wake up chafed and weary to insecurities .....

-

" KNITTER "

Clamorous chaos in the corridors of my mind
Habituated in waking me up to their words
Sound sleep satirizing the spurious concern
Fairness was never upheld & faith remained delusion

My hands winded up and weasand throttled
Making me fall down in a glass vessel
Like golden grains of sand that dribbles towards gravity
Still unable to conclude if people are evil
Or it's just me who lost my sanity

Tired of weaving my own existence with varied strand of moments....
Shivering hands, howling eyes are just laughter's to some
Fruits of their immoral statements....
Yet every wound didn't bleed red, they just left tyrannies
And the aftermath of thunders were bound to be blemished memories

-

" INERT "

Shadows forged by the cycle of fleeting times
The ground for the loss aversion were the cold declines
We are afraid to fade away like some reason that are lost .....
A nameless echo, a silent cost ......

Lesson learned through tears and strife
Whispering to us " embrace the gift of life "
For in the end, it's only the attention that we craved....
But not the moments we shared or emotion that we saved....

We witness time dissolving in pattering sound of the rain
Yet grant a second chase everytime but end up in pain
Still efforts made were paid as homage in exchange of comfort.....
Surfeit of words and zillions of actions still the worth is inert.....

-