Imperfect

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On most days,
Real and perfect seem to me as opposite sides of a coin.

Baby, I try to give you all of me.
Blood and sweat.
Roses and sunny days…
But sometimes,
My scars get the better of me than the constant desire to be perfect.

Today that I have hurt you,
I want you to know some snippets of my sadness.

It is hard for me to forget people.
They are not things.
They have hearts.
And sometimes when they leave me like things.
I doubt what I feel about people.
I try to convince myself that it may be my fault…
I close my eyes sometimes.
And sometimes I look in mirrors to find that loophole
which made me just like something loaded by mistake in their life.
Either way,
It is hard to let go of them.

But it is even harder to forget the girl who is always there for me.

My love,
Sometimes I have days without light.
I don’t know when the sun comes out.
I don’t know what to feel on those days.

But since you have been here now,
I don’t mind the darkness. 

It may make some days to pass by like calendar dates
but I will never ask you to fit in, in this world of mine.
I won’t ask you to complete me.
I know two unfit pieces don’t make a puzzle.
But as long as we are in the same puzzle box…
I am okay with it.
But baby,
.
.
.
.
Are you okay with it?

Tonight, the haze is draping around my neck
and it is getting tighter with each question.

I accept you for every thing that you are.
And i accept you in worlds where we don’t belong.

But
Do you accept me for who I am?
Do you accept me
when I am

Imperfect?

 

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Out of sight

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People…
We admire them for a number of reasons.
On most days, Attraction finds anything
but the soul.

My love,
When I met you…

It was not like the movies.
Neither was it like a sad song.
(At least this time).

It was a journey
i did not intend to travel for.
I only knew i had to go somewhere…

I kept getting lost
but only to find you.
And me…
To find me.

Funny because I have seen a lot of eyes.
To say, Hence, a lot of people.

But what appeals to me the most
in this entire universe
is a dreamer.
Dreamers call you to see their worlds.
If not them,
Then who will open the box and let our minds out.
If not them,
Then who will endow our hearts what they seek.

When I met you,
I saw those starry eyes.
NO.
I did not know it was you by then.
BUT…
I certainly knew this is the kind of people I like.
Thus, the reflex.
I crawled my eyes back down to the floor.
You know the kind of guy I am.
I tell you things in a blog post…

Gradually,
very much like a plant grows into a tree.
very much like a caterpillar turns into a butterfly.
very much like the universe expands every second,

I felt you and I saw you
through summers and winters
and autumns and springs.
And I understood this.

There are a lot of women out there
who will appeal to a man for several reasons.
But there is nothing else in this entire cosmos
like a woman with ambition.
There is nothing more beautiful than people with dreams.
You were magic in the face of reality.

Every time when I see these starry eyes
that dream like a child,
They keep telling me that I am more adamant
than my life.
And i keep learning from you
that even a child is a soldier
when it comes down to protecting a dream.
That’s when I know I have to live. I have a purpose.
For me. For us.
And I have to stand ground by your side in this battlefield
against all those children eaten into men by the world.

My love,
It may not have been a love at the first sight…
But It took me a while to realize
that with you,
It was love at every sight.
And it was love

even when You were out of sight.

 

Chance…

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But the thing is
My love,

We are all petrified.
Its a test and no one wants to walk through the fire.

It dawns on us. Flattens us.
To give someone the key to our heart again.

But it is worth a chance.
Life is itself a chance, my love.

I know how the sky breaks apart and the soar sunken world heads into the sea.
What is worse than a breaking heart when you know it…

Sometimes, all of us are unaware
that we are waiting for the things that are never going to happen
and sometimes we know it right in our bones.
We wait for people who are never coming back.
We still wait don’t we?
The person who has decided to go…
Only sees that door.
Not the person behind.
But we wait.
We still wait.
.

.

.

.

Until we don’t.

I understand that you have been there.
I have been there too.
The place where you wish that the death may take us.

You hate now don’t you?
The voice of shutting doors. I do too.

I know that there is nothing that I will say
make you believe that I am the one.

But the best thing that I have learnt from life
is that the most wonderful things happen
When you put your faith in people 🙂
When you lend them a hand they never expected
When you give them a chance they never got.

And most of all, I know you.
You are beautiful.
And you are brave.

This time I hope,
You walk through the fire
just one more time.
This time for me.
I’ll walk with you and
I promise my love,
Every second when you are in there…

My hands will be under your feet.

The Stethoscope

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Remember the time
when we were hanging out with friends at Rossco’s?
You appealed along with the group
for me to tell you guys
about the girl I like.

You even got me to call India.
Only to ask if I had a girlfriend there.
Then all you guys started to hunt down my Facebook friend list.

Fun part,
You grabbed a stethoscope ‘N’ just bought for her second semester
The initiative was to check which name will get my heart on fire.

And hence it started…
One of you guys kept throwing names one after the other.
I was innocent till proven guilty.
We had quite an audience that day at the restaurant.

You seemed curious with a Litmann 3M
right to the left of my chest.
You only doubted the arrhythmia
when I yawned at the name of my teacher.

The session ended like every other weekend.
Friends ranting at me for arousing their suspense.
Giving them a power cut at the climax of a movie.

They still didn’t have that one name.
That one person breathing in between the lines I am writing.
The one soul that painted all the corner in my art.
Honestly, even I was craving to say her name.

But you were still there… STILL.
Between the clamor of the crowded restaurant,
And my reviling friends.

With a head bowed down,
holding the ear tips,
Listening…

But you never noticed
And i wish you had…

My heart was beating over 100,
every single minute. It was not usual.

Because that girl was not in my Facebook friend list.
Neither back in India.

She was right there
listening to my heart.
We kept staring at each other
all this time.

It was no one else, but you.
It had to be you.

The girl with the stethoscope…

 

 

 

Everything Feels Worth It

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At times,
Heat of the cruel world burnt him so fiercely
that he felt he has become one of those old deteriorated things kept in the store room… beyond repair!

The fire soaked up his dreams.
Dry eyes… tired of trying to teach the same lesson of kindness
over and over again every single time with a vision that someday
people will understand… They are not the only ones having the ‘rough day’

Overwhelmed with madness and intervened with experiences
that leave scars as life gets scraped with tragedies,
He became a fusion of anger and disappointment,
The fusion that is harder to imagine and even harder to take.

The world tore him apart
like those pages you once keep in corner of a drawer
and tear them up questioning yourself if they were ever a necessary.

The dark side, exposed to the heat,
often came out… making him labelled as ‘Insane’

But for good and bad
THINGS CHANGE

Life is never the opinion of an eighth standard school boy.
It is like those questions of calculus where surprises wait for you at every step.

He met her one day.
The day melted into night differently that day!

She saw him tracing out his pain in ways a beautiful heart would never do.
Yet she danced with his demons!
She became the reader of feelings rather than words.
Somehow with time, it became a question to him how she could listen to the unsaid.
Rather than extending a bow of frown,
She managed o stretch a smile…
An innocent one indeed 🙂

At the end of the day,
He just had questions in those starry eyes

“Why after all this time…everything feels worth it?”

 

The Beautiful Tragedy!

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“Once upon a time
In the flow of rhyme,
Two souls met in eyes
and connection was sublime.

Where else you fell together!
Perhaps always in love
Time speckled them with colors
From down under and above.

Alas somewhere… amidst the elation
cuddled the baby fingers,
A thousand promises overnight
And destiny held the trigger.

Broken apart in the distance of words
And one promise then, a piece of mirror
In all darkness with bowing in corners
No heaven bestowed the shimmer.

Being all alone in crowd
in their invisible cloaked shroud
They spoke of their love
But silence covered the loud

Of what beauty then promises…
that break people with fallacy
evaded by their own soulmate!
They live ages beautiful but in tragedy…”

 

 

 

 

 

The Mirror

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Lights are out
The diary is lost
But I pick up the canvas
And a few crumbled pages

I hear the pen yearning to write
I see the colors painting the white
I spread my arms,
Smell the rain
Pierce my bones!
Its craving to hold on
to the window pane

I look up to the sky
It drops me the words I desire.
And in this cold

it ignited the fire

Memories are ready
Nostalgia is chasing
Euphoria is rushing
Writer cuddles the metaphors
The painter blushes

And the shackled voice
Frees itself…

in the name of silence
in the sense of poetry
in the form of colors
I paint sensation,

The nail biting news

And all of our lives…
in red and blues
Couplets of promises
knocking my door 

demanding their dues.

All the clamour

Amidst the glamour
Shriek and shimmer
for you my enamour.

Obliterating the darkness 
rises a glimmer
Poetry and shades

Intertwined to make a MIRROR.

Every night
in the splendid moonlight
You read in that mirror
The Universe speaks
of those shades again,
It sings of you
counting the stars…
It listens to your feet
dancing magic in the rain!

The writer, The painter
Deep down you know him.
You open those yellow crumbled pages
You caress the shades
with tender touch…

But when will you understand…
The crumbled page speaks of you!
The shades are all the colors of you.

Do you ever recall us ?
Do you ever realize
All this time
in the mirror

It was You
It has always…
been you…