“Longing”

NaPoWriMo 2017. 1/04/2017

day one.

 

It’s not about how your hair bounces as
beads of sweat trickle down
your forehead while you dance,
or the way your rhythmic footwork seems like you’ve been tap dancing
on my heart the entire time,
crushing it with your heel,
then gently tip toeing, testing the waters,
suddenly bending down to rip it apart.

It’s not about how you’re always around
casually conversing as you sip coffee,
or the perfect smile that shows up,
lighting up your face, making
your eyes sparkle with delight.

It’s not about how your presence is
felt, in those you love, in their
chatter and mannerisms,
even in your absence.

It’s not about the happiness
felt at seeing you,
or hearing your voice
after a long, hard day;
and the slightly faster beating
of my heart at seeing
that sparkly, perfect smile.

Those feelings are just stuffed
to the bottom drawer of my heart,
desperately wanting to be ignored,
forgotten.

It’s about longing to be with you,
and knowing that’s its not
happening anytime soon.

It’s about promises to
clean out the bottom drawer,
a bit by bit,
just not now.

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Wonderment

I read a little something today,
the writing stretched to about
three pages, and I wished I could
pen something down, just enough to
fill the gaping pages of the notebook
I made by stacking pages together,
they somehow fit, not one page meant to
be there, but just being perfect together,
in that exact mismatched order.

I thought about the little something
that I’d read today,
and it let me to my own
jumbled thoughts, and unwritten
philosophies, a bit of humour.

It led me down the rabbit hole in my head,
and at the end of it there
was a huge mess;
unfinished pieces written
on papers strewn about
a littered floor, with an
‘Enter at your Own Risk’ board
hanging at the door,
and a ‘Step With Caution’ placard
placed in the middle of the cluttered space.

A little later, I wondered why
I couldn’t finish what I’d started,
or maybe why couldn’t I be proud of my own work.
And that gave way to the realization
that I hadn’t let it affect my soul,
or let it be shaken to the core. No,
it was superfluous, like my thoughts,
entering and exiting,
leaving a trace
like footprints on the beach,
marking only till the next wave washed it down,
leaving not a hint of it being there just moments ago,
deep imprints laid forgotten.

Home

Coarse black hair, and a
lopsided smile, or maybe a smirk,
Your eyes like a globe, I could see
myself in them, reflected, displayed.
I want to travel the world,
and seeing it in your eyes is not enough.
But now that I miss it all,
I want to come back.
Tell me when to come home,
and I’ll wait. I’ll wait at the door
and I’ll camp on the stairs, never
too far from hearing your call.
Because home is where you are,
and the way you engulf me,
like the flames of a candle to the wicker,
you are wanted, not to protect me,
but to stay and keep me company, keep me warm.
Don’t get extinguished, you are my only
source of comfort, my only place to call
home even if I sit
atop the mountain of wax, it will bring me
down one day.
Be that red sweater that fits me snugly,
and it isn’t always cold here, so I don’t wear it often,
But be there on the last shelf, never out if reach.
Because home is where you are.

Cheese and Grease

Lucky colours: blue and peach. 

Cool. 

I read my horoscope on the second-last page of Mumbai Mirror everyday, without fail. I don’t believe in it. It is only something I read. It kind of, gives me a feeling that I know what is going to happen during the day. Obviously it’s stupid, and it’s really really stupid, to just read it. Don’t believe, just while away your time. 

I didn’t follow the colours today, like any other day. I chose my favorite brand new t-shirt that dad bought for me just because he liked it. I packed my bag and left. I went to Malhar ’15 today. With my best friends. Who were obviously boys, because anyone who knows me too well knows that I don’t get along well with girls. Not having the slightest idea why, but I just find boys easier to be with. 

So, to get back to the point, they had separate lines for girls and boys. And the boys’ line was moving faster, and they got in earlier than me, by around 30 minutes. That’s a long time. They networks were jammed and we couldn’t find each other, but we did, somehow. My panic mode turned down a nock or two. 

The fest was good, great even, but super crowded. And that made it a nightmare. We were sweating in the afternoon heat, pushed around by security guys and the restless, sweaty, sticky crowd. Annoyed, we decided to skip the rest of it and head down to Marine Drive. 

That’s where we had fun, on the way. We stopped at Burger King, because we were hungry, then to Baskin Robbin’s, because we had money to spend on ice cream. We had fun there.  We just sat and joked around, laughing like retards. Then we took selfies with the Burger King crown on our heads, and just, had fun. There’s no other way to describe it. 

After stuffing ourselves with grease and cheese, we walked to the drive. We just sat there, enjoying the cool, amazing air and the calm, blue sea. The waves crashed against the rocks, and we sat there, just, doing nothing, staring out at the sea and cracking lame jokes occasionally. The sky was a light hue of pink, with some red thrown in from the sides, bringing with the rain, ever so lightly. Look up and you’ll see the marvelous colours, all merging with each other to form peach

Well, lucky colours didn’t only mean that you had to include them in your clothing, they could also be the little things in life, surrounding you, making you feel happy as fuck, because little things matter. 

We caught the next train home. Then shared the selfies on Instagram. 

I just replayed the beautiful day in my head and wrote about it.