A Moment in the Moonlight – 2

Free me from these clichés. These movies and novels polluting our psyche. Ideas of this hysteria called love lasting forever. Transcending the realms of our lives and into our different incarnations. Let me capture this moment like a photograph. A photograph made, not of the usual playground of colours and light but just feelings.

Let’s free our minds from the dwellings of past, from the ideas of perfection we bought naively, from regrets and mistakes we still keep in the safes of our memory. Let’s break free from these insecurities and worries of being together forever. From our desire to hold onto each other like a prized possession. Let’s pretend the scars from our past aren’t engraved on us, because time is conspiring and it has sinister plans on its hands. But it wouldn’t take away this moment from us.

Let’s pretend the moon isn’t watching and let me capture you, bathed in its pale light. Bare nothing but your present to me and hold my hand we are going to get lost in this moment together, till it lasts.

Two Souls

There’s a Monster On My Back

It’s a beautiful day, you notice the birds chirping after so long. You notice the children in the park, reminiscing about the happiest of times you had as a kid. There’s a smile on your face, it’s a feeling that has become unfamiliar. And then a sense of dread takes over you, a smell of fear and despondence is around. The kids are there and the chirpy birds too but it’s your smile that has just vanished. The monster’s back.

You’re not even surprised anymore. It’s like being a prison of your own mind, getting visits from happiness once or twice a week and then you’re back behind its bars. You start accepting that these moments of escape wouldn’t last long, you start waiting for the gloom to be back with handcuffs. It comes to a point where being happy for an extended period starts making you feel uneasy.

Your shoulders are sinking, your words fumble on their way out. Waking up everyday becomes a burden. Even the thought of going through the day seems daunting. You’re drowning and that thing is pulling you down every passing day. You try to stay afloat by holding onto things that keep you happy. Some find solace in sleeping all day to dodge reality, some write, some prefer to get high from attention on social media, some party, some cry through their time here. You start overdoing these things to remain on a high, now that you know one bad day and it’ll be back to zero. Sometimes you just want to give up, wishing that the ground below you cracks wide and swallows you because there is no hope left.

Why are you sad? The worst thing that happened to you last week is that your phone’s battery died and you had no charger. You know your life has no problems, yet there is this feeling that something’s wrong. Something that’s making you feel wretched all the time. You seek help, you look for hands to hold, for ears to lend, for words of comfort to guide you out of this dark place. But will they treat me the same way if I told them all that is wrong with me? Will they understand? You ask yourself every time you think of sharing this mess with your friends or family. You wonder how will they comprehend something that even you couldn’t understand after having lived through it for so long.

You tell yourself It’s just some elements in your cranium pushing you down this hellhole. Nothing’s wrong and everything’s gonna be alright. You finally feel like you have some control over your thoughts, a sense of relief takes over. You know it’s over. You’re back to being what you used to be. You’re smiling, you’re buoyant, the shoulders aren’t sinking anymore. It’s the best day you had in a long time. And then you feel it, a tap on your back. The cycle is on, and the worst bit is that the monster is nothing but a part of you.

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The Farewell

Let’s dance, let’s smile for the cameras, and walk this road as students for one last time. Let’s sit on these benches, ornamented by years of graffiti. Let’s break into dance in the middle of a lecture, because this is our last chance to cause chaos as one. Let’s pet these dogs we have seen growing up, let’s call them by their nicknames they will never understand. Let’s check the attendance to keep above the magic figure of 75%. Let’s make plans for Goa, never to materialize. Let’s say things to people we always wanted but could never say, because there will be no next semester to be afraid. Let’s hug our friends as tightly as we can, because we may never see them again. Let’s sing with each other as we remember the last five years, the memories we made, the lessons we learned, the person we were and the person we became. How we came as strangers, as just names on a merit list and how we are leaving as a part of each other, howsoever small.

We have always wondered why the bell wouldn’t ring, why the lecture wouldn’t end, but we will all dread the ringing of that last bell. It hasn’t happened yet but we’ll be dancing, we’ll be cheering and in the middle of it all, it will hit us, and it will hit us hard. It’ll choke us, it’ll make our eyes moist. It’ll make us all cry before we accept it and with our eyes still moist and hearts still heavy, we’ll walk away for one last time.

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Stole a page from her Diary

“Dear Diary,

Sleep has been my drug these days. The darkness, the emptiness it brings has me addicted. I can stay up, face this unpleasant reality or just sleep and let silence take over. I can’t help choosing the latter. Every time I stay up I end up having pointless conversations with him in my head. Asking him questions, hoping that he’ll change his answers, he’ll tell me it was all a prank. Mind’s playing tricks on me, projecting moments of dread into my imagination constantly. It’s like it wants me to cry and empty my tear sacs out but they bloody don’t. My hands keep shaking at times, I swear it’s not the cold. We painted our picturesque dreams together, all it took was one moment and the colours were all gone. All that was left were black and white outlines, mocking me in my newfound loneliness.

Friends are trying to help but I can’t figure what they say, it’s just all too numb. They tell me I sit here and stare into nothingness all day. What they don’t know is I am talking, still talking to him. Wishing for the times when one ‘I love you’ would end any fight. Wishing that this is a bad dream and we’ll wake up all happy and together like we have always been. They ask me to keep doing what I love, but at this point of time I just love crying. It’s my last refuge to find solace.

Maybe because it’s my first time? They tell me we all get used to it over time. We keep falling in love, no matter how many times our trust is broken, our spirits shattered or our faith in them taken for granted. We always pick the pieces of what’s broken in us and walk this road called life, looking for someone who wouldn’t break but keep them safe.

I understand that, I really do. But what will make these tears falling on your pages understand? Who will tell them to stop flowing because that’s how the world supposed to be ? Who will tell this heart to calm down, these hands to keep from shaking ?  For once I want to smile and feel like myself again, without this burden of dead dreams and broken trust around my neck chocking me. But that’s a blurry and distant dream right now, so I am going back to my newfound love. Good Night!”

Diary

 

A Moment In The Moonlight

The sombre moonlight is irradiating her face, barely making it visible. Her hair dancing on the whims of the night breeze. Eyes with a brownish hue, through the depth of their vastness are saying things. Things that words can’t contain, things that you only understand but can never articulate. Her smile starts from the corners of her lips and your heart knows it’s its time of weakness. The smile runs and blossoms in a moment, taking your heart for a run full of palpitations. A gush of blood has risen up in your streams, you can’t hear the rattle of crickets anymore. Even with all your might you can only muster to hold her hand and pray. Pray that the moon remains perched, guarding both of you in this murky night. That the wind wouldn’t stop playing with heavenly locks of her hair. That these stars would keep twinkling, as if applauding her grandeur. That time would stay still for a while so you seize this moment, before you run out of time.img_6846

Meet Me At Our Funeral

 

These hurt but they’re lessons not scars.

Spring’s long over, welcome to our fall,

We needed darkness to savour the stars.

 

We were meant to but meant to fail.

These cosmos conspired and played us,

Sent to star in someone else’s fairy tale.

 

Welcome to the funeral, guests just two.

Hold and guide my hand for one last time,

As we word this eulogy that’s due.

 

Lost alone in the alleys of dreams we built,

In the ruins of promises of eternity.

Your company the drug and I, an addict.

 

We are dead but aren’t you and me reborn?

Catharsis of novated souls from our cadavour,

Croon the Happy Birthday song, don’t mourn.

 

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Hey! Can we talk?

As a kid I yearned for people to talk to me. Every night I wished for a friend who would just talk, listen to how my day went. I was that weird kid in school. Had big hopes about growing up. Thought things would change, I would grow into a normal man who would have company. A man who would not spend nights sobbing into his pillow and seek answers that were never coming.

Now things are better. Wouldn’t call it normal, but at least they talk. And they talk a lot. I mean I didn’t change much, just crafted this wooden table. When they wake up from anesthesia I just tell them that their hands are tied because that’s how the rules of this game are. You can’t really blame me, I didn’t get my fair share of games as a kid, Did I?

Now they have to keep talking, like anything and everything they can to talk about. Usually they try to convince me how we should stop this game and how they are gonna die. It’s lovely having some chattering company I swear. I never interrupt them, see I am very serious about the rules. If I say a thing they would stop talking. So I let them speak for hours and hours. Until their voice is gone or they stop for a pause hoping that I would be lenient with the rules. But they always end the game with a loud shriek, every one of them. Sorry, Did I tell you the guillotine drops when it can’t detect speech?