The love note

Dear Love,

By the time you find my note/ Half of your wardrobe would be empty/ One pretzel less in the jar/ Half of the flowers in the vase withered/ The photoframe that captured our seraphic smiles absent from the coffee table/The dishes in the sink all done/ The bed made and all of my strewn poems on the floor tidied/ You wouldn’t find the birds in the cage/ And the hamsters would’ve run away/ All of the curtains in my room changed to your favorite blue.
But don’t worry your room is still a safe haven / Your files all stacked up/ Your guitar sits on the club chair by the window where you write songs for her / And the wrist watch I gifted you on your birthday locked up in your secret drawer.
Like all of the halves I’ve taken with me, I’m taking just half of my heart/ And none of my love for you/ It’s yours/ And it shall stay with you/ Even if we’re continents apart.

From,
Someone you never cared about.

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Madness

We are the perfectly weird couple,
The magical reality of my teenage dreams,
Dancing in the rain, eating cotton candies on Ferris wheel,
Kissing each other in the middle of a fight,
Laughing like idiots on our wedding night,
In all of these madness, we’re partners in crime,
In all of these madness, our love comes alive.

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If love was a bone

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Sound of a broken heart

When you invited her home
and I didn’t smile,
you poured her a glass
of wine over dinner
and your glasses clinked
in front of my eyes,
That’s how my broken heart sounded.
Your voice echoing
through our living room,
as you hurled abuses at me
called me a disgrace to you
and your family,
That’s how my broken heart sounded.
The resounded slap
across my face,
when you came home drunk
and the whack on your head
when I pushed you back,
That’s how my broken heart sounded.
As I covered my bruises
with foundation and veiled
my tears with black sunshields,
I wailed in the bathroom
packing my bags,
That’s how my broken heart sounded.
One year later as my
phone buzzed on the table,
you called and I didn’t lift
a finger to pick it up,
That’s how my broken heart sounded.

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My Call

Like a bug
Insignificant, oblivious in space and time
Darkness blinding any form of sight
I live in a mirage
With my insides frozen
I hide behind my reflection,
My mind a cacophony of thoughts,
Lips curved into a smile,
So prejudiced of happiness, of calm. .
.
.
Trapped am I in the memories of that night
Of bedsheets and linens and duvets
Of the sights and smells and words
Shrouds and marigolds and mats. .
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.
The fire burns not the memories,
Photographs and their frames, so pretty of them
But that is how they resurrect
As my stomach churns tight into a knot
A pounding feeling grabs my chest wall
Will anyone reach out to my soul?
Will anyone please, hear my call?

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What if?

That’s just some random musings… But guys, don’t you think, even before this Lockdown begun, weren’t we actually living in a kind of lockdown set up by our busy lives : home, office, work, home kind of an everyday routine with little or no time to think, feel or even wonder if what we’re doing is what we would be wanting to do.
Now at least, we have the much sought after time to ourselves and also our families.
Let’s hope for this pandemic to end in a better note, till then stay home and stay safe. .
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Don’t forget to catch up on Ishita Banik’s (@ishita__banik ) interview this Sunday. .
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Follow : @mymusings.2018 .
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Xmas

Merry Christmas folks…

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Let’s talk : #4

It’s been days of talking about the thing that don’t matter. But this one that I’ve picked up for now is by far the most important one. And I’d specially chosen this day to lecture on this. 10th of September is The World Suicide Prevention Day. To think of, did you ever realise how many such mishaps could be prevented by just not considering one as a useless piece of shit- well, a hell lot. I personally advice not to believe, not even think of yourself as that. We may not all be brilliant, but we are unique. And we may have failed once or twice in life but haven’t we already read or seen enough of such real life stories where the ones who were lagging behind aced later on in life. You live, few people care . You die an untimely, unwanted death, nobody cares. And in the end, it’s your family who has to suffer through the rest of their lives.
At one point of time, I too was depressed and thought lowly of myself, that was when I had faced multiple rejections and failures at the same time (not that I don’t face any rejections now 😝) . But with time, I’ve learned to cope. With time the wounds have healed and I’ve grown. It shall happen with the rest of us too. Seek help. And if it helps : in the end, a potato goes into becoming Vodka.
Take care…
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Mental Health

Let’s talk. Words can wound and it can heal. Talk it over to support and help, talk it over to feel at ease.

Let’s not simply rubbish them off. Depression, death wishes, let’s take them seriously.

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I bleed

I bleed,

Not because I had a choice

But because I was chosen.

I bleed,

Not because I’m impure

But I am bestowed with the power to procure.

I bleed,

Not as my weakness

But as a boon to light up a father’s home.

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