Libran

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Aphrodite is my patron,

of my kind, the doves.

we’re meant to be,

indecisive.

we do not tell half truths,

with such dexterity.

we confess sometimes,

with an open heart.

we’re best at keeping secrets,

and also the worst.

we love to love and want to be loved,

but rarely find it like we want.

but once we do, we cherish it forever.

and, never, never can we forget.

we see hope, the point where others give up.

cannot move on, if a bond we haven’t ended ourselves.

cannot take it when without a fault,

without an explanation, some bloke breaks us down.

we want peace, beauty and harmony,

doesn’t mean we submit,

to anyone, putting in a little pressure.

we’re guarded by the Goddess of Love, after all…

we fight. we love.

and some day,

one day, we make it

our innocent world in our innocent way.

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It’s how it’ll always be.

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My Promise.

I’ll always love you.

I’ve always loved you.

And I will always love you.

Others will come into my life, like every morning is new, and we try new things, every other day.

But every night, like I put on a different set of clothes, to sleep away the lonely, tragic hours,

I drink you in like an exotic wine, some magic potion…

that erases every thing and rewinds time back to the day we met.

The day, I traded in my soul to the devil,

That I may remember you as the only man in my life.

And then I remember everything.

Oh, and with love…

Wish

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Dream of starry nights, on a fresh lawn,

You’ll wake up to a dampened dawn.

Wishing for love, friends and shooting stars,

Hurt you’ll be, never think they’re made for thee.

 

Dream, dream, within your gilded soul,

Sweet princess, so alien within this world.

Where nothing can touch you,

With a feather, nor ever a sword.

 

Within your spirit, you live, you rule,

You create, wonderful worlds.

You live for a greater cause.

Others just don’t get there.

If not Anything, You Make me FEEL Young…

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Feels like suddenly I’m helpless,

In the wake of the minute hand of the clock,

One evening not talking, not laughing with you…

Feels like heaven’s broke and rained rocks.

Why is it that so suddenly in just seven days,

You’ve become so important to me?

Why hadn’t we met before?

Now you make me think.

Is that what soul mates are like?

Like one meets the other half,

And then, suddenly, they’re one.

So much has changed since the hour we met.

And ever since then, I haven’t been myself–

But a stronger, bolder and wiser me.

Then can I call us soul mates?

I don’t know of that, as of yet.

But it was exactly a crowd that we first met,

So, maybe my epiphany still counts…

And we just happened to stumble upon each other.

I had a hundred reasons ready,

Excuses that spare me from going that day.

I overslept, and then my dress too wasn’t ready.

My hair wasn’t washed and poor me,

Instead of a petty-coat, I wore pajamas under my saree.

But still it worked, until it rained bullets.

My heels raised on five inched blocks,

I was forced to hunt for three wheelers on foot.

Windblown hair and dancing stupid unskilled bihu.

I don’t know how it started, but the way you guarded my heels,

Letting me dance as much as I wish, sure did touch my heart.

That you weren’t much that into the stoner den, like I was,

But kept experimenting with your camera, like I do with mine.

And now three weeks have passed,

But that memory’s still alive.

Like a little sixteen year old, you make,

My heart go out, on a roller coaster ride.

Little, little jokes, and secrets, planetary homes,

Like a game of snakes & ladders increasing in progression.

With your little innocent smile, you made me grow past

The pains I have endured in my battle-worn life.

Maybe that’s what soul mates are made for,

To stitch each other’s sore wounds up.

– – one soul mate, that is me – –

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As I see myself so happy, I am hurt.

There’s no reason for me to be happy anymore.

When my lips wouldn’t stretch further in a fake smile,

I find something wailing, unbearably loud, inside.

That shrill noise goes on breaching all my fortresses,

Setting to fire, my mighty monuments of fantasy,

And, ah, hope after all these years of pining in the inferno.

Sometimes I wish I could just pull it out of myself,

The deadly masque, which like symbiote,

Sticks to me, plays hoaxes through me.

The masque, that has slowly started,

To imitate me, but in subtle ways,

So very different.

 

Dreams that are never going to come true,

Why, O’ why, my dear heart,

Still so busy weaving them?

Why, wait for imaginary footsteps,

While living in a palace of glass,

In the middle of a desert lake?

 

At last like your only well wisher,

Like a hopeless Knight in shining armour,

For you, he never will be,

I wish to tell you of a few truths,

You’ve already always known as have I–

In the end, you will be the one, starkly alone.

Only your joy and blood will be hurt when,

Which already is too late, you decide it’s time;

To see the clear truths, that had been untouched all along.

That now you pretend to see and ignore.

Breaking Free

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Had been locked up inside my own mind, as if,

Tied by rusting chainmail to the icy castle of night.

So, didn’t even have to  really struggle, to get out,

My spirit, unbound, just by mere thought, broke free

Like a canon-ball of shiny metal set to blaze,

Just shot out of sight…

 

Dashing past the clouds of mist and ghosts from the past,

Unholy things, those were, by inches, couldn’t touch my light.

Everything burned along the path I trailed in my way,

The purest form of energy, like fire, now flowing through me.

Firmly ridden on the back of the mad, mad wind,

I reach for the haloed sunbeams pouring in thick abundance,

Through distant holes in the wide blue-white sky.

 

My quest for peace, finally sated for a while,

I wait at the gates of heaven, to open up.

I haven’t seen my God, and it’s been quite some time.

Thrill of being Free

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Life is morose and life is dead,

Worries screaming in your head.

With lost hopes and all things worse.

 

From dawn to dusk,

Living and eating norms.

One smile, you wait, you die,

For a touch you’d fight and cry.

The sweet company that you crave,

Until freedom flies you to your nest.

 

Awkward first meetings around family and friends,

A stranger sits, trying to peep through your veil.

Cakes and cookies you never knew to make,

You put forward for your clients to take.

Furniture and cars accompany you to the grave,

In the baleful sound of trumpets you slowly break.

 

Thrill, you want when you step in the door,

Taking a hand and flowers on the floor.

Thrill is what you want all that first night,

Your stranger, for you, might not be right.

By the time morning leaves its shadowy cave,

You’re well into the unhappily married club.

 

There you wish that you were free,

Because there are sickles to your feet.

 

Or the thrill is when,

Zooming through posh streets late at night,

In the back seat of a little perky bike…

The air cool from late spring showers,

You throw your hands up in the air,

And leave the past with all its woes,

Behind.

 

I’ll be Me, and You’ll be You.

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It’s the fact that it’s you out there, is the only thing that keeps me going.

I don’t know how else I could’ve gotten past my laziness and thought of all the good I can do.

All I could do by myself was sit inside my warm room, indulging like Hypnos himself,

Or flutter around settling my scores with all the people who wronged me, like Nemesis.

You took that from me forever, with the gifts of humility, forgiveness and patience.

With your persistent rejections, you filled me with stronger determinations.

I’ll be Artemis – I’ll hunt you forever, and You will be Apollo, in your blazing chariot.

Racing across the skies for all of eternity, and though I know, you’ll never be mine,

I’ll be content to see you for once, every day, at dawn…to start my day with.

Aged

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The morning light touches me with a twinge of guilt,
When my sunken eyes peer through tear splashed glass.
The night of mighty dust gales had hidden stars from me.
The tempest of last night, has left my courtyard wet,
The rains washed my glasses clean, also the last tears.
Messed my hair, but smoothened out many other things.
The storm has passed now, now that morning’s hit the streets,
The winds, I had learned to tame, have blown me back home.

IN LAMENTATION: SONG OF THE DAWN

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The moon spends her last moments for the day,
Watching, mournfully, her forbidden lover, the sun
Heartbroken at their most lamented, transient union,
Even the winds of heaven moan…
Beauty lies bare, tears refuse to quell, stay clinging to eyes which empathize…
The only solace which is lost upon their grief.
For eons they have travelled an eternity, distraught, barred from love,
Yet facing each other every day for a little while…
But who’s got a say in this unfair judgment…
It’s written, forsaken is their fate to create our dawn…

In Transition

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**NOTE: Read it with empathy.**
Tonight, my hand shakes.
I cannot hold my pen,
Nor can I type.
I cannot write!
.
Tonight nothing can help me,
No, I am not drunk, not even a little.
I am not high, and the ones who make me
Aren’t here. Cheers on their divine names.
.
I and hypocrisy have a long nemesis,
Tonight I am avenging my cause–
All those nights of tempestuous overtures,
And torments for self containment.
.
Hot, prickling, irksome — tears moisten my cursed lashes.
The broken dreams, like glass, jabs mercilessly into my flesh.
When I think and realise, revenges are going nowhere,
When it comes down to those, whose against I stand.
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Love, that once washed inside me, like a flooded river,
Is slowly molding into a separate earth. Of cold stone.
But still in the deeps, love boils and spits, like an ominous volcano.
One passionate quake, and the rocks would all collapse…
.
But I cannot lose this war, I cannot!
Cannot let the rocks collapse…cannot let myself hope again.
(As if I can hold back such a phenomenon!)
Because, it’s me, and it’s always been me, I cannot write!
.
Untouched. Forsaken, I’ll remain, frozen.
Waiting for my love to die. But also hoping, he’d give in,
And the cracked earth will soak in the tempest,
Slaking the eternal thirst of the dry, scorched rocks.
.
Smothering the love…
Dammit, fantasies again!
I cannot write!
I just cannot.

Sunday Morning without my Glasses.

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Through saffron washed shades,

My sleepless eyes peep at the bright Sunday sun.

My familiar green purse with my stock of change,

I set out from home, this Sunday morning,

Without my glasses, my weekday eyes.

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The damp trees all stand, towering over me…

Smug and sated after drizzles for the last few nights…

Like a witch’s prickly hair and pointed hat,

The willowy branches seem to point at me.

Forming black curves against the whipped blue sky.

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Colourful paper squares soar overhead,

Tied to invisible cords spinning from spindles,

Held by unseen hands, all children out of sight…

Hazy lines of gleaming pinballs come rolling down,

The flyover down the road that draws towards town…

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Something special is happening  today–

Some kind of campaign, some race-like procession.

Horse drawn carts racing along with motorbikes;

Car windows shooting out overgrown men,

Scarves tied on the heads, flapping behind.

.

Signboards I cannot see, my eyes are not with me.

But logos, and symbols I can make out.

I see the big M of McDonald’s, ’coz that was my destination,

As the hot aroma of butterscotch pancakes hits my sense of smell,

I cannot delay, my empty stomach affirms in a grumbled rebuke.

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Hmph! Again a queue, this straightened out morning!

Probably BPO employees were out now, for dates after shifts,

I fake an accent, to pull the attention to me, a lonely visitor…

Only later did I notice, by far, I do not look anything

But a plain, fat, native, DU student out on a morning stroll.

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A Sausage McMuffin, French fries and coke combined,

I have a decent meal to name on the roll at last.

Cuddling couples stare, I stare back; they don’t know, they’re not my eyes.

Like coins in my purse jingle, their accusing glares bounce right off me–

Never leaving it, like change, just piling up more and more…

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Sadly, now that the morning’s passed,

And without my glasses, I’ll have to return back.

Gems put out on display catches the light–

I look at the shiny jewellery shops as I go,

But no eyes here, to watch them shine.

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It’s broad and harsh daylight now…

And I have to get back home, before,

While crossing the wide road,

I’m trampled by a truck or a van,

I mistook for a shiny silver pinball.