Picturesque

She is a satin ribbon marking your way through the forest of doubts, a broken smile with dazzling teary eyes which make you want to skip your lazy Saturdays. A neon light in your sad empty town, a red wine to inaugurate your heartless personifications.
Her eyelids spoke amounts heavier than the seas, stories where she bravely chose herself over the sad stories people had built thinking it would make her worse.
She had a graveyard in her lips that died when she saw you.

The Caged bird sings

Looking at the blue sky she wondered with a smile,
Flapping her wings and discovering new places would be like floating on an aisle.
The iron cage reminded her of the present despair
Tears flooded her tiny eyes, the pain was harsh to repair.
Nevertheless the scars drowning her soul, she decided to sing
For the blazing Sun or the willow tree or for Samantha who had just received a proposal with a diamond ring.
“Do not worry dear,” the wind whispered softly. “One day you shall fly”.
Though the chances were bleak, she believed in that insatiable fire burning in her heart fiercely.
Trying to break through she hurted herself, with blood dripping down like a cascade.
Praying to find the key, hoping for the bars to disappear making her realise it was a facade.
Embalming her poise, she looked at the blue sky
Although it was hard to believe she knew, one day she would fly.

Dear Desert

Loving can heal. But sometimes it can hurt too.

The idea of exploring your beauty was not an honest mistake but a fervent desire. I started the journey with a lot of enthusiasm as if I had already discovered the ecstasies of your touch. The scorching heat of the Sun made me realise how difficult it is to get your love and how many illusions guarded me earlier. Thirst was at peak and I could not blink, one more step and one more breath I thought. Though I knew the odds were utterly improbable, I fantasised about what would happen if I could actually cross your horizon. Suddenly there was a sight of water and I rushed only to find an oasis inviting me to succumb to my injuries. Despite the conspicuous death which I was going to encounter I chose you over myself.
It was love. It was death.
Or both.
Yours,
Wanderer.

False God

Sometimes falling in love with the devil can make you understand how precious an angel was

When I seek into your ocean deep eyes
I try to tell myself that beautiful things are usually dusted with sugar coated lies,
Miles and miles, your fingers seem to feed your hunger and pride
Even if you wanted the moon and after
it would have been a privilege to let you borrow mine
My skin shivers to your touch as you call it your love,
little do I know pain is never titled ‘love’
and love is never titled ‘worship’

Love

I swear I tried. I tried to write positive things but I just couldn’t. I swear I tried very hard to be chirpy and bubbly but I just can’t.

After all every time it hits me in waves how much I cared and how easily he left. The thing which still scares me is I still do. I want so strongly to believe that I am over it but even I know that I am not. Every inch of me wants to turn around and walk away but every time I see his eyes and him smiling, you know it comes back all over again. I try to convince myself that maybe his hatred will one day turn into love but every corner of my heart knows it wouldn’t. I try to pull him up from all the darkness that he has fallen and he wants to step into the daylight by pushing me into the dark. I cry, trying to tear away all the pain that he gives me each day but tears make the pain even more real. I don’t know how or when I will be able to ignore this one person who is main reason for the sufferings I posses.

Some of you will call this love. But tell me honestly, with a hand on your heart, is this truly love? Does love mean you try to rip the other person apart and does love mean to give and give until you have nothing else to lose or does love mean to keep the happiness of someone you love before your own even though every part of you knows that his choices never include you..

Autoimmune

Sometimes what you think is yours, can kill you to the core

She kept wondering why
everyone that came across her
left without a single word exchanged.
Believing in finding true love
She kept knocking every door,
Not knowing love just can’t be strained
Waiting for the man to turn her
scars into flowers and tears to smiles,
She started trusting syllables coated with lies.
What she failed to notice was
her golden heart which was magnificent.
Searching happiness in others
For her entire life,
Little did she realise
Her heart that could love her miles and miles
Was shattered and bruised
Killed by herself with a knife.

Dormant

Before I saw the sunrise, I wanted to see you
For you always said, “broken memories could be turned into new”
As I carry the gift, I feel your heart calling out my name
Tears gush in as I remember our goodbye, I know I am the one to blame.
“Don’t leave us”,you had cried to my vanishing silhouette which chose him above all
Little did I know, you can only question a magnificent love when you have a miserable fall.
My soul was withered and broke, the pain reminded my heart we haven’t yet found our home,
Sleepless nights, constant fights made my love disappear like foam
“But why father?” tears swallowing every vacant void with noises began to clatter
“Cardiac arrest”,he sighed and I saw my only hope began to shatter.
As I walk through the abandoned field, I wish I could hold you one last time
To tell you that I love you and you were meant to be mine.
“Can you hear me?” I tried to fix my heart that was already into shreds,
It is the time that runs out, burying all the scattered emotions left unsaid.
I planted seeds around your grave, trying to revive every moment when you were alive
You keeping me away from monsters, protecting my tender heart which was once naive.
I know you loved roses,  so I plant them here beside you
“Can you come back to me mother?” is all I whisper to you.

*This is one of the most emotional poems I have ever written*

Fallen feathers

Sometimes even running thousand miles on your mind makes you feel that the journey is still incomplete, that what you seek to attain the ultimate level of peace doesn’t cross your way that easily. I have watched season one of thirteen reasons why show and maybe the aftermath of contemplating the life of a girl who seems somehow similar to you, makes you feel this way. I ask myself times and again that whether life could have taken a different course that maybe I could have fought back but then I realise maybe sometimes it’s too late to mend your broken past.

So I try different positions to make me relaxed.

Oh of course, it isn’t the kind of positions you have on mind right now. When you start to think your life is pointless you can’t really think about erotic things, can you? I hug my legs and try to deform my body into the tiniest mass ever possible by covering the least area, wanting to stop existence for once and all. Now you might think that my life is pretty good and that I am another show-off you see around and one of another Hannah Baker who killed herself for attention ( I know, you think like that about Hannah and very few people like me really think what she did was the least she could do to help herself from this pain). I make your assumptions correct. Yes my life is pretty well sorted according to the chaos theory, small changes do not happen at all and hence life remains predictable.

“I still remember that day” would be a cliche way to commence my period in high school so I would rather choose “My family and I shifted to a town which seemed ravenous for innocence “. Because of my intellect, I got admission in the very first try to one of a reputed convent which was I think one of the worst decisions I ever made.

If you aren’t regretting, you aren’t living

When I first entered the classroom I had a strong sense of relief for this wasn’t a co-educational school which meant I wouldn’t be bullied. Little did I know back then, girls could be more dangerous when it came to gossips, rumours and manipulative bullying. The first day went in a blur and all I could gather in a nutshell: the girls were very sweet and kind and generous (reminding you, first impressions aren’t the last impressions), teachers are hardworking, sincere and impartial( reminding you again, first impressions aren’t the last impressions). Although people were nice to me and everything seemed so outstanding I still felt like an outcast which explains why I befriended only Deblina Dutta, another newcomer with visions of non-hyper-friendship activities like me. The days of the seventh grade went adequately for I had a best friend and I was keeping up with my studies.

You do have things in your life to which you get conditional about and when those things are taken away from you, you feel that your breath might take its last leap on the earth. In the beginning of the eight standard, I had to face such a withdrawal which I had never expected. Deblina’s father got transferred and she left the town for the city of joy. She promised to stay in touch but after a few weeks she didn’t make an effort to reach out which gave the crystal clear impression that we had grown apart and she had found new friends. I was stubborn (maybe still am) so I swear not to call her myself. But some part of me still believes that one day she will definitely apologise for scattering our golden ties. Going to school was horrifying as I had no friends to sit with and no one to talk to. It’s not that I didn’t try. Everyone was just too busy with their old group of friends that they didn’t have enough space for an outsider.

Things started to change when I stumbled across this so-called popular girl named Swagata Mitra. A chirpy, bubbly, full of life creature was what you would call her if you would see her. There wasn’t any glimpse of sadness on her pretty face and she is absolutely everything that you could ever want in a friend. She can make you laugh on those boring History lectures, can make you laugh even on the monotonous schedule of your weekdays and can be there whenever you need her. Yeah, pretty shiny thing she is, or at least I thought her to be. She had a best friend Anindita Chatterjee and although they shared an indivisible bond, I was invited to sit with them at the lunch break every day. I didn’t try hard enough to be one among them and maybe that is the reason Swagata developed a fascination towards me. And there it was: I had found true friends for life. ( maybe that’s what I thought then)

You could have believe me Swagata, couldn’t you? After all, I thought you were all I had and didn’t it strike just once to you; how can you lie to the one person you think is your all?

Coming back to present, yeah there are bitter memories which do cross my mind on chilly nights and lonely afternoons but I wouldn’t bore you with all those in one go. So let’s wrap it up for today and because I gave you so much of depressing vibes let me unleash the truth about my blog: yes, it won’t be bright all the time and there will be spaces where I will pour out my heart to you.

After all that is life right? A mixture of sadness and brightness.Without knowing the darkness you will never learn to appreciate the light.

Create your website at WordPress.com
Get started