Waning Moon

Every day is a heavy step forward. The mornings are not so welcoming but eyes open on their own. Waking up in the morning I turn off the alarm even before it can ring. The days are occupied with work and life rests on the back burner.

It pains me to know of the reality of relations. There is no sweet nothing, no reminisce and no memory. When you miss someone, you should let them know, or should you?

We are not slaves of habit, we are slaves of comfort. The knowledge that we can go on with this monotonous life and nobody will care enough to ask you if you are alright.
My heart desires to hear.. Everything will be alright.. But it has been ages since my ears have perked up to it and my heart fluttered to the feeling after. 

As the years add up and we grow old, it's one step closer towards the unavoidable heaviness. Heaviness resides in the mind, heart, body, attitude and slowly makes way to the ephemeral soul.

Is it so hard to care? To love? To give company? To just be present? Maybe my longings and desires have always been flawed. It hurts to know but i can see the waning moon from my starry night.

Listen. .

I wish i could leave you my love

But my heart, is a mess.. 

And you keep making it messier. I want you to stop pushing me away from you, I don't say it in words. My tears tell you that all the time. But you don't listen and instead tell me that I don't listen to you. Do you pause to think why would I not listen to you? Is it my brain which has by default adapted the mechanism from your actions? Do you hear my tears? Do you understand them? Why don't you listen to them? Why don't you just do what they want you to? 

Push me a bit harder make me jump that cliff so that I don't stop at the edge and retrace my steps to just stop there. I may fly, I may dive or I may just vanish. Who knows? Maybe there is an ocean beneath the cliff or just air or just emptiness. 

The lights they reach to tease me at times when I feel I am going towards the haven and not the cliff but alas! It's a mirage. Mirages always break. 

Consider the dried lips an adieu to what could have been. Don't hold my hands the last time I leave, don't hug me Or kiss me. I will be lost in the oblivion and you will be blissfully ignorant. 

This is a modern fairy tale

No happy endings

No wind in our sails... 

Turmoil

"Tune mere Jana kabhi nahi jana"

Softly crooning to the guitar chords and empty beats.

The pain and despair is evident in your eyes as the song plays on loop.

The love and anguish are moving hand in hand, neither can you be and nor can you leave.

Those moments make or break the relation.

"Oh heart of mine with a song and a whine you're harsh and divine like the truth and a lie."

The persistent reminder of a heartache and faint smile from the backdrop of it all as life unfolds.

You are holding all the cards in your hand but the player in front of you is controlling all your moves and the player in front of you assumes vice-versa for you.

It's hard living with a single decision everyday and then we ask that do we have a choice. But in reality it is the choice we have made. To be or not to be.

In the tough times you got to hold and move on.

"Wake me up when it's all over, when I am wiser and I am older."

Pestilence stricken

How many times you have opened and shut the balcony gate. The heart is tired and the mind yearns for some space.

The constant ticking of the clock and monotonous routine. This is the caged feeling where your head feels heavy. Round the clock, every second, every minute, every hour and this eternity that seems to be going on.

The body is rotting from inside and senses are shutting with constant bickering all around virtually. You know because you got to stay home.

Hobbies have become shackles and the mind is bogged down with the same pattern. When will the breeze of fresh air make the heart feel light? When will we greet some new sights for the sore eyes?

All of a sudden they seem to be distant memories. The atmosphere is plagued and I have written here a pestilence stricken summary.

Warmth

Maybe it is for good or maybe not. When you left, the warmth left with you. I thought of borrowing a little of it before you left but I was late. Maybe it is my stupidity and asking for more is what has led you to go.

As far away you walked from me, the winter came in stronger. The blankets did little to save me from the cold my heart was beginning to feel.

Thinking of you sometime, I felt angry at myself. Why should I visit the doors that are closed? why should I suffer to thinking alone?

I didn't have any answer and you wouldn't share the burden of the questions.

The tree I loved to smelt at this time of year, felt no good either. I was there but I wasn't, I am here but I ain't.

I cry just like that, I feel too much all of a sudden, sadness adorns me and I stop thinking. This goes on like a circle.

When you left I felt the warmth leaving. Like the last flicker of a glowing candle before it blows off. And the cold runs through my spine everyday.