Tuesday, 30 September 2014

Unsaid Apologies

Dear ***

I diluted much too many apologies  in the ocean of my fragile words.  I'm sorry they were beyond your reach-and mine.

I promise you- they were engraved deep in the rocks of my  heart that I little realized was  weathering.  I'm sorry there were no remnants in the sediments that reached your shore.

All I ever wanted was for you to know how much I loved you. I am sorry my meek words were overpowered by the tone of my voice.   And I apologize for the further pain inflicted by the shattered pieces of my heart on your delicate fingers as you tried to sew back my broken soul.

I'm sorry,  I should have known better than to carve  illumed words of joy while you sat in the   darkness  waiting for even the feeble rays of my sunbaked world to rekindle the stars on your skin.  

I'm sorry about the devils I failed to tame- the  claustrophobic darkness in my  shrinking heart tried too hard to escape.  I apologize for the scars their explosion inflicted on your already wilting soul.

Believe me if you can,  I awoke every morning wanting to wash away the remains of a hurtful past from my memories- and yours.  I'm sorry the force of my waves disintegrated the hazy remains of your fading silhouette. 

I promise you,  I have cried myself to sleep on too many starless nights. The dying moon knows. If anything, I have only wanted to be better. For you.

Tomorrow will be the next devil I attempt ceaselessly to tame.  And conquer. But if I fail,  I hope you know everyday has been a struggle- a battle I lost to the goodness of a wounded queen who didn't have to try as hard- you.  

You are allowed to decipher the strength of  my double edged swords differently.  For all I know,  they assumed different shapes from what  I had intended to sculpt.  Like a  beautiful painting turning disastrous by the wrong mix of colours.

But know,  please know,   I will die trying to be the person I think you deserved to have in me. 

And when the scales are set to judge my final abode, maybe the scars in your memories will weigh well over my intentions.  But,  I died trying.

         Shershada (the way YOU pronounce it)

Thursday, 11 September 2014

It was either brimming joy
Or hidden pain
And at times,  both
They were always glistening- her eyes
And how he spent nights trying to decipher
The secret worlds that dwelled in them
Worlds her words didn't vindicate enough! 

Friday, 5 September 2014

In an incomprehensible darkness
The clouds ignited, burst open
The pain wouldn't hold anymore.
Peircing. Fighting. Hastening.
Inflicting more than it freed.
Yet, void of remorse, the freedom exultant.
Still, a ray shined through.
Amidst all odds.
Peircing. Fighting. Hastening.
Only, harder.
And just as she lit the darkest corridors 
Of his dismal, brittle heart
It shone with a light brighter than the sun.

Monday, 1 September 2014

A Thing Called Love.

Let me paint you a picture.
One that transcends all known divides. 
One that speaks of love, of all things beautiful.

I'd paint you the picture. I promise you. But love needs colors, rainbows, and far too many auroras of congruous harmony for me to do it any justice. 
I have drained all of mine in rendering the grey sky with my hues. 

And if I did, there'd be too many colors contrasting the darkness she left behind in your soul. 
Just too much light to blind your already flickering eyelids. But I promised you, to hold your heart dear.

I could say it again, and  a hundred times over. 
And a few times more- that you will be alright. 
And silently hope for myself, just as I do for you, that so will I.

But we both know. 

That when they leave, they take along with them a part of our worlds, that we little knew existed.
And we spend the rest of our days, unforgiving, recreating the lost worlds in others, with others.
Always, in vain.

I would tell you, the universe brims with enough goodness to set you free.  To set us free.
That it conspires to save the good people, our hurting souls. 
But love defies all logic, all science, philosophy. Everything that we know to be true.

You have seen more universes than the rest of the world have ever known to exist, in the subtle nuances of her very being.
Found too many worlds in the single person that meant the world to you.
The goodness of a million others shone bright in your one-in-a-million.
And blinded you to the rest of the world.
What science or logic could explain this love? One so profuse, so consuming. 

This is why my words are meek. 
Too fragile to hold on their own.
Why I fumble when I tell you you're going to be alright. 

Why when you fell back to the raw earth from your heavens,  you fell deeper than you imagined. 
Why at times, you were too numb to feel. 
Or comprehend the hoard of new feelings that now blanket you.
 Everyday. Every single night.
Why there isn't enough light in the world anymore.

You loved with a love you didn't know you were capable of.
You loved enough for the both you.

And when she left.. 
Well, when they leave.
We have enough left in us to indulge in darker sides of the night.
Enough for it all: 
Falling more in love with the ideas of our carved worlds. 
Ideas. More ideas.
Concepts. Scripting concepts of a redefined love. Scripting fantasies never to be true.

Growing too fond of the new found escape- solace- solitude
Of the dark firmaments, the studded stars velveting them. 
Of all things you have grown fond of as you drank away the hurtful nights.
Of vanishing silhouettes, piercing suns and fading sunsets.
Of all things that crashed your empire in the wake of the day. 

Of lost battles. Losing wars.
Lost causes. 

Once in a while, and to an unlucky few, very few times in a while a thing called love happens. 
The darkness of the earth consumes itself to light up enough new worlds in our souls. 
Love happens. 
And then, it is lost. 
Worlds are lost. 
And you have been blinded again.

A few more battles lost. The war too lost..
Lost ideas, concepts. 

Listen close, the universe still conspires.
You will hurt.  It will hurt. 
But in the bitterness, love happens.