Clocks

NaPoWriMo 2017.

2/04/2017 day two.

“Clocks”

There’s something about clocks
tick-tock-ing,
steadily, as if nothing could ever
be out of sync.

There’s something about the way
the digits align themselves,
spaced so equally, as if nothing could
ever be out of place.

There’s something about the way
the wheels churning in the distance,
soothingly, musical even.

There’s a lot about how they align
in the illusion that is time,
as everything seems to fall into place,
and it all just seems so right,
rhythmic tick-tock-ing
calming the tides.

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Metamorphosis

Change is inevitable, yes.
But is it not untold that when
a caterpillar finally grows itself
into a butterfly, it completely
leaves everything behind. And
if I dare say, you have not broken
those ties, those rules that break
us apart.

When you recast yourself
from the person you were before,
to what you are now, those side-swept
bangs, banged you up like a rocket leaves
the Earth, out in a matter of seconds.

Our relationship has changed, from
a love-struck boy that I was, stealing
glances at you, at every chance  I got,
I dare say, I look at you openly now. I
stare in your deep black eyes, so much
like the black hole, pulling me closer
and closer as seconds pass by and I try.
I try so hard to stay afloat in the sea of
rubble that we created and broken promises
and cut-up wrists and goodbye hugs, with
mementos and memories.

Re-orientation has had made you better,
but not the better that was moulded to my
imperfection. We are irreconcilable. So
clashing, so… confusing.

Now here we are, incongruous to each other,
grousing to our friends when we turn our backs.
Poles apart, literally, may be, I contemplate,
what would my life be, if I did not be a cocoon
to you, as a caterpillar, throwing me into masses
in words and phrases?

appreciation

I tried to change myself
for you, hoping that one day you might
notice me and accept me into your clan. I tried so hard
to fit in your group of judgemental cronies
that I forgot how you had judged me the
first time I had walked up to you.

I  forgot to keep a part of myself hidden, one
that had been embedded itself into my soul was
exchanged for a part of yourself.

So starry eyed I was by you that I overrode those
little emotions that made bile rise up
in my throat when you asked me for money only
because my parents were rich and you were
too lazy to get them from your own purse.

I tried to look for validation in your eyes,
appreciation for my efforts,
I ignored the fact that you used me
and made fun of me when I turned around.

For when I did, you had these little snickers
that you made sure I’d hear.
But hey! Look, your validation
was so appealing and so mesmerizing to me
that I chose to forget what you’d done and made me do,
only to be accepted and appreciated and validated.

Melt

I have never been one to relate to those moments, where your throat is dry and your mind is blank and there is nothing you can say or do about it because your brain is not functioning properly and your mind doesn’t form thoughts coherent enough for you to voice them out loud, and you are just standing there, dumbstruck, opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish.

No. I think I belong to the other category, with the lesser percentage of people, where hundreds of thoughts are whirring inside your head like hundred clocks ticking and you don’t know which one to pay attention to because, according to you, all are important and you have some extra one’s like, ‘hey! that could have been better if it went like this’ and I anticipate your and my reaction to the situation already contemplating how to act out my reaction because I’ve already guessed the outcome of it all.
Hell! I’d even thought of an escape plan for covering up in case I speak out loud a wrong thought out of the hundred ones buzzing through my head like electricity through a silver wire.

I don’t associate myself to the larger population, who’s mind, when kissed, stops completely and you feel weak enough to not be able to stand on your own to feet.
Two seconds into the kiss and I’m thinking of what it would feel like if you did not have that little stubble and if your lips were fuller. Another thought buzzes past and is already forgotten and then I’m staring at your closed eyes, marvelling at how your lashes brush against your cheek and all I want to do is to reach up and stroke your eyes  but then you’re already pushing your tongue on my lips seeking entrance into my mouth, and when I taste you, I wonder what you had eaten last and how your tongue tangles with mine and there is so much more going on inside my head when I’m gazing at the soft freckles on your nose and under your eyes and then I feel your hand sliding down my back and onto my butt, squeezing it, while I’m now thinking of what I taste like to you, and then I lose myself completely when you open those pretty eyes and gaze into mine, waiting for me to say something, whether you should continue or stop, whether I like this or not. But then I find myself standing there, completely dumbfounded, no words escaping my lips even if there are a thousand thoughts swirling inside my head.

 

>title goes here<

You look at the pictures

on the wall, stuck using tape

and smiles on those faces.

Radiating happiness as you remember

the mirth and your carefree selves.

Broken teeth and hands around

each others shoulders,

as if relying on each other.

Those hands slowly slipped away,

Leaving you leaning.

You feel the weight loss, slowly

not all at once, as distance grows.

You yearn for those hands to be there

again, to have them back in your arms.

Crying whilst accusing yourself for your loss.

You’re in pain, but there’s no one

to support you.

And maybe you feel

that you’re losing

everything that you love.

Everything that you ever relied on.

Everyone that ever supported your weight.

And you cry to sleep every night.

But don’t forget this my friend,

You lose what you once loved

only because

You cared enough to feel the loss.

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.