Or no melancholy…

I walk lost… kicking no dust,

I avoid it unknowingly and careful

They deserve to not get kicked… as if


I walk on the footpath…  alone

Holding care, holding knowing-ness

Holding breath sometimes… unknowingly


Sometimes I hold tears… in eyes

Not to hide sadness, but waiting on smile

To stretch, to push eyes close, to scatter a few drops


In the dead of night… I wake up

I fix water tapping meaninglessly,

I fix a dirty little doormat by the door… carefully


I see the peach moist walls

They are not so disgusting after all,

The wooden swing in my balcony, I stand by it, sometimes


Hold a feeling of being me

Forgotten… long lost me, just seen

In a huge bucket of lost and founds… as if


The city growing on me…

I’ve learnt to laugh the thought off

It doesn’t grow, I’ve known this city for a while now


With things out of place

I am at peace, easy, unconcerned

The moist rejection, the anguish feels gone blur


Holding a thin smile in eyes

I walk alone, away from the cosmos

Connected yet… to me… more than ever before.



I walk, kick the empty can,

Crumpled and broken

Lying harmless on the footpath


I kick in the muddy road

Lazy lofty heavy lying dumb

Leaves a little stain on my boot


Kick the small dirty foot mat

In front of my door

Kick every time, without a look


Peach moist walls of my room

Continuous showers

The wooden swing in balcony


I kick the mess of wires

Under my office desk

I kick hard the connections


I think of you sometimes

Times when I felt for once

The city was growing on me


I kick away things as they stand

Those once made sense

And then ceased to, forever


I stand at door coming back

I think of you if at all

On the other side of the door


The keys slip through my fingers

I ring the doorbell

For no one to hear


Bend down to pick up the keys

I kick away the keys

Waiting to be picked up


I enter the empty house

With moist smell of rejection

Kicking me hard on forehead.

A part of you…

Few things fade pretty easy. Few die hard. Few never do. I do not know what category what falls in. I do not know what category this would fall in.

I once read somewhere, that everything that happens with you, every single event of your life, does a trade with you. A trade of you with a trade of itself. Everything that happens good or bad or plain neutral, gives you a part of it and takes away a part of you. A small part, a small corner, may be a corner of your diary or the pillow by your side… may be a corner of you smile or your heart. And when you have gone far away… forgetting the stories… forgetting the traces even… when you have learned to laugh it off… the part, the corner gone does not come back… neither the trace left with you goes away. It does not die… it lives there… inside the event… inside the moment… in the coffee lounge… on the street… in side you or inside the other person… somewhere… as if it was always there… like a habit… comfortable and home.

Going away is not brutal, leaving behind or being left behind is not… I don’t find departing brutal as long as you don’t destroy the part of me in you… as long as you don’t ask me to give you back what I have of you. As long as you let the trade fade in past… slowly disappearing but never vanishing completely… for it cannot. I will be hurt when and only when you ask me to undo the trade. When you tear off the roots… When you ask me to pluck out the moments of your existence off my existence…

… So don’t! Please don’t.

Let me believe in it… I won’t question it’s being truth or a lie… let me hear the memories… in the hush of every night… let me dream of you… let me feel you smiling in my smiles… let me feel you talking… let me find you in me… in each of my sigh!!

Sadness… How do you find me dear?

I am not having a discussion here… I am not sharing a thought… I am not explaining a logic… I am not solving a problem… I am not in a condition to…

I am asking a question… to you… sadness… how do you find me? So consistent! Without a fail! So efficient! How do you find me? Why are you following me? I don’t hate you… no I don’t… you are a part of life.. And a very important one… without you happiness is meaningless to me… I get all of that… but why so much?

I try to avoid… I try to overlook… I try to find a way out… I try to ignore the little hurts in the way and move on… I try so damn hard not to be sad… I bet my life to figure out smiles… I trade so carefully… every word… every letter… every breath… but why do I fail? So often? Every single time… every single step! I try to be happy at any cost… guilt surrounds me… I try to make people happy at my cost… heartbreaks surround me… I try to fight against the fate… failures surrounds me… and when I surrender it all to you and stand deserted yet smiling in anticipation of dreams… hopes ditch me… all your forms… all your faces… all on your side… none on mine. Nothing on my side.

Sometimes I tend to believe that even happiness is on your side… it dumps me to flirt with you… it stands by your side… enchanting like a mirage… and stupid and selfish I run for it… to fall for you. But amazing it is… how you… with all the powers in your hands… with flirtatiously beautiful success by your side… with  fates at your feet… await on me… looking awkwardly… ugly and dump… with pain of refusal in your eyes… you still wait on me…

Why do you wait on me? Why you can’t stand me not being with you? Why, when the whole world leaves me alone… you don’t? why you are so much inside me? Why can’t I just run away from you? For once! Can you just be by yourself? Please! I have tried everything… I have tried every single place… how do keep finding me?

You love me… don’t know? Will you do me this one favor… please! For once… will you please find me a place where you can’t find me? Will you please let me run away from you dear… please!!!

So… that was your best shot?

Not good enough dear! Just not good enough.

Your lessons have never been hard enough to stop me from making mistakes. Nor have your apologies been strong enough to make me numb. But all these times I thought you have your best weapons yet hidden in darks of some out of world caves. All these times I believed you could, you just don’t.

But today I think you can’t, today I think, you are not capable of wanting to hurt me. Today I think I have more of everything than you. I have courage more devilish than yours, I have love more feverish than yours, I have edges sharper than yours, I have promises way harder than yours, I have insanity way blind than yours, I have limits that you cannot push me off, I have wounds that you can’t heal, and faiths that you can’t break, secrets that you can’t laugh off, and a heart you cannot test.

You are afraid to hurt me to devastation, you fear that I will break and you won’t be able to fix that. You love me and that makes you weak, that makes your hurts weak, that makes you apologies weak. You love me and that makes you imprisoned.

I… on the contrary, I love you and that makes me free. I love you and that makes it easy to hurt you and fight with you and be angry with you. I love you and that gives me the freedom to break up with you and come back as many times. Freedom to cry and sob and laugh crazily in love. Freedom to push myself off the limits, off the edges for it’s your job to rescue me. Freedom to be blind and insane and feverishly high and low, for it’s your job to hold my hand and bring me home safe.

You can’t do that. Oh poor you! you can’t cry for me and you can’t smile in love, for you have to stay still in all my turbulence. You have to love me and yet not let me know. O My! You have to hurt me but not so hard that I break, you have cuddle me but not be so soft that I know you are falling for me, you have to teach me lessons that you know I won’t learn, you have to give me punishments after each of which I will wink at you and tell you that I love you! You hate to punish me… but you have to. You hate telling me that you love me, but you end up confessing. You have a whole lot to figure out, you have so much to take care of, you have so much to balance between, and I just don’t want to understand your cares, your rules, your limits… I like to believe you are limitless and I am stubborn in my beliefs. You want me to grow up and I don’t, you want me follow rules and I don’t, you want me to fear hurts and I don’t, you want me to be realistic but I have my myths dear! You try hard to break them and I smile back at you saying… so… that was your best shot?

The weak in me

It’s been days. Or say only a few days. I am too distracted.  I like to think I have my reasons to be so, which is not true. But anyway…

I needed to share this with someone, I thought. And I thought of you… as usual. But the thought went on… and it said… why do I need to share with you when I am weak? Why do we need shoulder to cry on or finger tips to shed tears? No, I don’t say everybody needs eyes to share tears, few of us are really strong, or at the very least portray well to be so. Nor do I say we don’t need faces to share smiles… few of us again… are very amicable. I am just going with the general trend… Or honestly speaking my trend.

When I am happy, when I am successful, when I am on the roof top, I think of you. I swear I do. But not so much. The thrill to show off… the rush of new plans… new dreams take over. I am light, I am fearless, I am adventurous,  I am open, I get caught in the wind… and I get taken away from me. I get taken away from you. When I am weak, when I am in a dark corner of the room, with head in knees, I am free of the winds and thrills and rushes… I am more me… I am more stagnant… I am more closed. I do not let it in… it being anything and everything… I cannot. And then you enter… through the closed doors… and you close the doors more after you… forceful and effortless… and I cannot stop you… I am helpless and weak… and in your arms…

I happened to read this little thing.

“With all my strength of personality, my goodness, my success or impression of these, there comes that little nasty thing… That bout of showcasing, that urge to be known that way, to be validated by others…

…My unadvertised weaknesses, my failures and their internal admission are my only saving grace, my only salvation… Only spots where I feel God has touched me.”

Pasted from <https://www.facebook.com/findkartikeysingh>

That right there is me. Taking you for granted for all the smiles and needing your shoulder for all tears…. That is so me. You are most mine… you are the nearest… when I am at my lowest self. You are so mine… in all the small big complaints I have from life. You are so mine… in those little jealousies. In the tears I shed sitting alone on stupid fails I earned… it is only you. In the feel of jealous… in the feel of weak… in the feel of guilt… in the feel of being hit by a bolt…. the feel of being wrong… the feel of being hurt… the feel of desperation… the feel of losing… in the feel of betrayal…in pains unbearable… I see you.

They say all that is good and pure and right is you. May be. But is that it? Are my weaknesses not a part of you? Are my troubles not a part of you… my grudges… my wrongs… are they outside you? Is a part of me… not you? How can it be a part then? How can you be the whole then? And how then that part could bring me nearer to you than all my good… my smiles?

O Dear! All the pure in me is you. I don’t deny. All the righteous honest paths I take are you. I don’t doubt the boundlessness of good that is you. All I want to be ensured for is that no part of me… however painful… how so ever impure… is outside you. No side of me… is on the side opposite to you.  Each of my smiles is you… but so is each tear. If each of right steps is you… then so are the wrong turns I took. If you are the love inside me… my hatred is equally a part of you. You are the giver maker and bearer of all the successes in path… oh you are… but you cannot be untouched by my failures too. You are the firmness in me… you are all the strength… may be… but sure the weak in me… is equally you.

I try… I quit… I loop.

I am waiting for the 60th second to tick… I know that the doorbell won’t ring since the 59th second… In fact I know it from 58, 57, 56th seconds… But I still wait. Against all odds… all logics… all rationales… all thoughts and theories and rules I wait for something to end… Something to occur… Clock to tick… Tick a whole number before I give up… And then to tick a few more numbers… And then to tick a few more…

Why is it so natural to keep waiting…to keep lingering to an old habit… to keep living an old life… so easy to keep on going… and so difficult to stop. So difficult to stop looking at the ticking clock and lock the door… So difficult to stop trying to listen for the phone ringing from under the sheets and go to sleep… so difficult to stop yourself from checking the old mailbox hundredth time…  So difficult to stop hoping for miracles that would not be. There is no door bell, there is no phone ringing, no miracles what so ever. Oh but I am waiting.

I read in books about keep trying… keep playing one’s part…  about hanging in there. Is that not what I am doing? Is to keep looping back again and again and then again not persistence… is stopping not giving up? Stories I believe in talk of retrying… of not losing hope… of not giving up… but for how long? Forever? None answer that. I can do that – keep waiting. I am comfortable doing that. But is that the right thing to do? Was to keep waiting the preached sermon? Was it not?

What is better? Facing it in face and keep facing till you break and wretch and mess it up… and continue facing post that too… or leave it before it sores?  What is better? Ditching the possibility of it’s being right some day… leaving it for the fear of failure or fighting for it with whole of your heart? Huh! Sounds different… doesn’t it? Change the tone… change the choice of words and it just flips the meaning! Did they know? Those who preached  persistence and those who preached letting go… did they know? Or they just knew that nobody else knows too?

Have you ever felt the pressure of blood released through your heart at the very second you decided to let go? The suddenness of release? And ever, have you felt the pressure of blood running in your veins after the very last wait when you decided to try once more? The consistency of determination!

I have felt the two. Connected with none. Kept doing both… Is there a third way? Is there a way to not try desperately and yet not give up? Is there a way to wait but not be miserable? Is there a way to give up and not be a quitter?

You cannot give up on something that you believe in… stop believing… that is quitting. You can not stop being desperate till you stop looking at the clock… to stop looking at the clock… you have to kill the wait that makes you alive. You can not let go of a dream that you know deep in your heart you deserve… you stop only when kill the faith. Kill the faith and there is no you any more.

I try, I wait, I fail, I cry, I quit… and… I loop back… with a new wait or the same old one. Because I am still living.