Sunday, 30 July 2017

Braveheart

Sometimes I wish
I would have known,
Of that strange town
That you once called home
And ran away from.

Sometimes I wish
I would have felt
That loveless regret
And that nasty heartache
That keeps you wide awake.

Oh and sometimes my mind wishes
Like those black and white fishes,
We should’ve snuggled and we should’ve cried.

But it was too late when we finally realized
That all our smiles and our sufferings,
All our temples and our coffins
Nothing was ever safe!
And all we needed was someone
Pretending to be brave.


Monday, 12 June 2017

Full moon in a cloudy night.

There's something so serene, so beautiful about a full moon in a cloudy night that it makes it nearly impossible to describe it in words. You just have to feel it to know it. The clouds – some white, some pitch black, skiing thorough a rather clear sky. And the moon, playing hide and seek with them – sometimes it decides to unveil itself, shining through the darker clouds, overthrowing their dominance, sometimes it hides behind the white ones making them glow like neon lampposts in a distant road, and sometimes it even tries to pretend to be crescent, only to surprise afterwards.

“Don’t you think we live in a world which was predetermined for us? Whatever happens takes us towards where we’re supposed to end up. And when it does, everything starts making sense. That job I quit, that city I visited, that risk I never took. Everything somehow falls beautifully together like missing pieces from a puzzle.” She said, still half dozed from the alcohol and the day long journey combined.

“But are you sure it was destiny? Was it mere luck that those decisions somehow aligned? Or is it us who chose our fate? Think about it, what if that day you never had said yes for the trip? Your life would have been the same. We would have never met, but your life would have continued. You would still be happy, maybe or maybe not. But my point is, it was your decision altogether.

I think life is a game of probability. You get to roll the dice, but the sides will always be six. You would have limited options to choose from. But you must choose. And whatever we choose, we own it, our achievements and mistakes, our smiles and heartaches.” I said, looking towards the sky.
The clouds now thickened. Covering every bit of the gorgeous glow. No matter how hard the moon tried, it couldn’t sneak a peek. Only thing that still reminded us of how beautiful it was under those thunderous clouds, was the moon dust, the afterglow that some clouds carried from the time when the moon still could breathe. And as it is said, you can only know someone’s worth when they’re not with you anymore. Same goes for the moon too, the only difference is, the clouds around the moon will soon go by and it’ll come back, unlike people.

 “Perhaps! But I still think that whatever is meant to be, will happen. It might take a shorter or longer route, based on what we choose, as you said, but it’ll happen for sure.
Tell me don’t you believe in intuitions? The feeling you get in your guts that you should do a thing or refrain from it? Can that moment of self-believe be derived with logic?  You just know it, you know.
I think that’s how the universe converse with us. It tells us what to do to shorten the distance between you and your fate. We all are a part of a bigger picture and we have our own roles play.” She said.

 “I agree with you to some extent. The only thing that I would add to that, is at the end, even the universe asks for our approval. It gives us that gut feeling, that intuitions, but leaves the choice to us. Would we take its advice, or we decide otherwise is our own call.” I replied

“Tell me something, what’s your take on relationships, do you believe in clichés? Do you think that someday someone will come and share your pain and your happiness?” She asked out of the blue. I stared right at her face, she was looking at the sky. I could see the stardust settling down on her face, finding peace in it, and her face glowed like a thousand fireflies captivated in a jar. The night might not have had a moon just then, but the chair beside me surely did.

“Oh I believe in clichés. Clichés are clichés for a reason. The truth within is what makes them clichés. But my clichés are different. I believe in suffering. I believe everyone has to suffer in their own way. It’s a matter of fact of time that you’ll get hurt in any relationship, but until you don’t, there’s nothing more fun than them.
See, I’m a wanderer hitchhiking from one place to another. That is how my life has been. Staying too long in one place scares me to the core. I wonder if one day I feel like to stop running. Will I be able to?  Some questions never found their answers.” I said I sighed and looked up.

The clouds that were fighting for their turn to hide the mood and feel proud of their darkness were long gone. The moon was still there, though it’s light dimmed to minimum. The sky came to rescue and was trying hard to light itself. The night was almost over, sun would soon overshine her and even though the moon will be there, no one will notice her for the next twelve hours.
I could see the horizon turning red, followed by an orange and yellow aura. The dull dark sky suddenly turned colorful like a painter had spilled all his colors over it. Like everyone else, it was time for the night to leave.

“I have a cliché for you.” She said. “What’s darkness? The absence of light. What’s evil? Absence of goodness. And what’s pain? Absence of happiness.
Don’t you think that if you believe in suffering and pain you, you’re also believing in happiness and ecstasy?  Think about it, you can only know what’s suffering if you have seen better days. Look, I’m not asking you to start believing in something all of a sudden. I’m asking you not to stop. And that being said, I want you to answer your question. You don’t have to do that right here, right now. You don’t have to share your answer to anyone. But you owe that to yourself, don’t you?” She asked.

The tiredness was evident on her face, still she somehow managed to look as beautiful as ever. I could see the orangish yellow aura slowly turning white and the redness around the horizon taking an oval shape. Somewhere near some birds chirped. The night full of thunders and clouds now slowly was turning into a dawn of songs and morning breeze. I saw her fighting hard with her hairs, which were determined to wash away stardust from her face and she struggled to save them. She caught me staring – “What?” she asked.

I pointed towards the horizon and replied – “Look, It’s a new day!’”



Source of the picture : here.