A lost diary 📖

 A night of silence, hits you with 

a wave of nostalgia
Tonight, such a night dawned on me, 

evoking the bittersweet melancholy of past. 
Turning thorough pages of what was there and, what time shredded. 

Wouldn't I call it a fate's charm that 

once made life dance, 

pages by pages in rhyme.
But on nights like this, realization strikes deep. 
No sound of ripping pages,

 just pictures fading slow. 
A diary I adored, now bows before time making something inside ache with a sense of loss.

 

https://open.spotify.com/track/0EiZCuVOP3E9MobSidssSC?si=ZIZ2FuSVRSyTjdrI6fOBrA

To all the friendship that we lost on our way.....

Conflicts and contradictions

 There are days I wake up early enough to greet
 the morning sun,
feeling boosted and ready to spread yoga mat,
 and then there are days,
 when I am straight at the breakfast table the
 moment, I open my eyes.
Some nights I feel incompetent and drained, and
 then on the other moons when positivity and
 energy overflow.
I often talk about love all dreamy and shimmery,
as if it's the ultimate source of a meaningful life,
but then every cell in my body screams with
 practicality, skepticism and utter disbelief.
As the year pass, I've learned how we can
 gaslight our own feelings to the point where I
 believe it's all a mind game, yet I've also have
 tasted the bitterness of helplessness and
 surrender.
I can confidently stand on a stage and stare into
 hundreds of eyes, but the next moment,
I'll be completely silent and red on a table of
 two.....

When admiration and envy coincide.....🍂

 Can we tell the difference?

One day, it occurred to me that although we are so 
different from one another, are we not similar when we break things down?
Indeed, you and I are not the same. You have
lovely curled hair, whereas I have straight, boring flow.
You remind me of the high and low rhythmic
notes on a sitar, whereas I am simply straight
forward and lack any twist or turns.
Yes, you resemble the thousand pages of an
amazing philosophical book, much like your thick hair, while I am down to few pages of 
unfinished tasks.
Our hair alone may tell a narrative about how 
diverse we are.
However, it dawned on me one midnight.....would we be able to detect the difference if we chopped off our hair in to tiny pieces such that it breaks your curl and hides my boring straight flow.
Will we be able to tell the difference then?

(written long back....)

If I were to have a lover...🐾

If I were to have a lover...

it would be a bold and vibrant affair, a neon splash on a canvas of black, impossible to ignore and utterly captivating.A storm in the clouds, with shimmering threads of words, comforting my lover, in a world where less is heard.          

Whispering eyes, spilling temptations and desire, lost in a swirl, keeping worldly judgements at bay,                                                        

Or else, might it be a tome of thousand pages, cover hard, with secrets and mystery engaged, placed quietly in the corner of a shelf, which stands as an antique, with stories to itself.

 And if I were to have a lover, if I were to fall in love and if love were to find me...

"An Ode to Delhi" 🖋✉️

Dear Delhi,

It would be a lie to say that you weren't my American Dream, despite all the odds that made you less desirable, my friends and I would often manifest you during our 12th board exams.

After spending my whole existence in my own comfortable bubble, I couldn't think of any other place where I could have taken my first step. Suddenly, we transitioned from a peaceful haven to the midst of hustle and bustle.

You broadened my perspective, and to this day I adore you and your flaws.

     -Your beauty never ever scared me.

My wild little spree 🦧

I'm quite amused at my spontaneity that's been erupting in me since the last few months. Just the other day, I moved to this new place, which could've been a nightmare for my old self, given the numerous familiar faces I'd have to confront. But to my surprise I am quite enjoying it.

Lately I've been also reading lot of books-off track from what I'm supposed to be reading. I mean, I am becoming obsessed with the idea of reading lots of books, having huge collection and having piles of interesting ones in my possession. 
It's ironic though, more often than not, I don't even remember the authors name or the books title after finishing it. Yet the thrill to turn pages only intensifies. Perhaps I am caught up in over romanticizing the idea of reading and books, which I confess that I think it's pretty cool, so maybe I am trying to look cool/smart or something, Idk. But reading a book, sometimes just in a day gives me this different kind of thrill and satisfaction. Even if I forget the names of the author and the characters, going through pages and different stories gives me a thrill of different emotions at that moment. 

So I'll just let this wild little spree continue.🦧  

Fragments from my diary....🍂

Maybe this is the ultimate misery that any dreamer can be in.....but then how can I just be a half-lover to your abundance.....? For I shall be consumed by the overwhelming weight of guilt.

   Alas, the lovesick ones: when the night falls, cruel and dark and the ticking of clock gets loud and clear. Life then gets lonely like the last leaf hanging in the autumn's end.                

 Now and then, poor heart trembles and goes frail, yearning for the warmth of words and closeness of souls.

Metaphysical reality and mystery of death🦋

        5.2.2025

 If I slit a nerve and lay on the floor, soon enough I will go in mystery and dark. 
My skin will wrinkle in a day or two and I will wait motionless till the 'me' that is no more. The flesh and bone, which I called me was so fragile that it collapsed like a sand castle. 
And if soul exist, then where does it go next?
A body that it left was nothing more than a matter, doomed to vacate space that it had taken. But the years that it lived, books that it read,conversations that it had......
All those days that turned into nights and thoughts and emotions which lingered and grew giant, so does a torn nerve and a pool of red washes away all that it had?
It feels like there's more to it, a veil covering a window big, keeping secrets and ignorance wide.