I left you when the sun was shining and the dew drops , glistening.


//caption//

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It is ironical sometimes that
My words feel the connection
Only When i am Lost in my
Ramblings...

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Lost in my rambling,
I failed to notice the
beauty in the incoherence
of it all.

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People flip through days
Like weeding out greying hair
Questioning, “How was your day?”
Expecting mild returns,
Full of decorum expected.
(something always pleasant, in line with tradition, always)
“A good day in the shade.”
“A day done good.”
“A cakewalk through the cool pavement.”
Never locking lips with the glare of the sun,
Never getting bruised.
Meanwhile wounds appear (for those who dare)
And ripen and rot infront of dead eyes (since some don't care)
And pleas die out and fleas gather.

Step out of the curb, and risk condemn,
And they may assail,
“Saunter, ponder, your life in vain.
Aimless loitering, spiralling down the drain!”
They spew out in rage.
They fear what they don't understand,
Preaching wise words and what not.
Smothering love with no care.
Moist and sticky like the monsoon snail, (smiles are guiles, everyday.)

So, let's put it this way:
Those who can’t comprehend, let them shun.
And fuck off in another direction.

-

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There appears to be very little joy left in this world. The kind of pure unadulterated happiness that leaves you smiling ear to ear.
Everything is framed from the reference of tragedies. We are either relieved when tragedy doesn't occur or filled with hopelessness when it does.

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A piece of sky bookmarked

● in caption ●

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Like a portrait
that was painted in oil
and splashed on the canvas to dry,

only for the hues to later blend,
allowing the truth of it
to emerge
in a starkly contrasted colour pallete,
around an entirely different scenario

but miraculously ensuring
that the picture remained
one and the same.

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You care about people
You love them
You give your best
Is it selfish to expect the same love?
Isn't it unfair that you don't get a say in this?
A say in how much a person can give back
But who decides these thresholds?
Who decides when it's too much?
When you bring down mountains
Is it too much to expect
To be not treated like that very dirt?
Who decides how much to expect from someone?
They say, the happiest way to live life
Is with no expectations
But isn't that the most human thing?
To expect?

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We do not know how to love, but to fancy. We listen to music and consume it as noise that keeps us company, as scores in our musical-fantasies. We gaze at landscapes of life and simply take in everything just to placate our palette.

There are so many things worth their salt, but we always consume them ungracefully, spilling most of their essence.

I wish to be alone. But I’m not. My thoughts are always there with me. Most of them are those that I’ll never cherish beyond a day. But I thrive on them and they help me get through things.

I do not learn a skill. I remain stagnant. I rather start and then fantasize than actually live that journey.

It is cowardice and complacency. I always turn to my instant gratification monkey and ignore delayed gratification of ambition and hard work. I still haven’t learned to love the latter.

 

                                                                                             

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