The AC breathes metaphors in my life.

It’s all happening and not happening at the same time
Like the near-normal AC temperature in this hotel room

Body fat depleting, brain cells increasing,
Accents developing and arguments changing.

Like the chuk chuk of the Mumbai local,
I go non-stop; the matrix come to life.

Yet, in this whirlwind of hurried changes,
Those moments of metamorphosis go unnoticed.

Like how those treacherous mosquitos devour me
All night, waking me to bruises I have no memory of.

(A foreign situation, I really must confess)
I wish there were a repellent for college.

It’s happening too soon; I’m just 18
But actually, this is all I really wanted.

It’s very confusing; a labyrinth of decisions,
A burning broth of growth; take me away.

Everyday I get up, waiting for the rainbow,
But the howling storm takes its time to sleep.

Still one day, when I’ll open my yawning windows,
The warm sunshine will be here to embrace me.

~~~

Hey lovelies,

I’m so sorry for not posting anything last week. My transition to college is a little tough on me, but I’m confident I’ll be fine. Hopefully, I’ll post more often because my University gives me a LOT to think about. Have a great day today and remember, things are GOING to be fine. Trust yourself.

Yours truly,

Charuvi

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Cheeky treasures in goodbye

Go ahead, I won’t resist.

Hit at me with all you have

Emotion pouring through a hole on your side

Not a leakage, darling.

Embrace me with the warmth of cheeks grazing

And us holding each other for just a second longer.

Say what you could never tell me with eyes confessing.

Just a second longer,

Caress me with your gentle love

Until again, I am awed.

Gaze at me endlessly like the sunflower

Because the minute you close your eyes,

It is time to turn away.

Some things were never meant to be put in words

But we said them today

Oops and regret built up, sure,

But in the moment we were gold

A little crazy contained inside

And a lot more crazy without.

Without is such a heartbreaking word

Because I have never said this but

I fear being without

Why, should it ever be applied,

You may forget and my without may never become within again.

You live in the breeze going by in July

But I hope it doesn’t take you away from me.

Reach out with a hand and I’ll climb with you

Let me climb.

And so I climb.

Away from whom I want discover

The person I desire to swim inside of.

Some treasures aren’t meant for now

But damn are they priceless.

Touch, and leave a mark…please?

You live life in the breeze going by in July but I do not.

My breeze is crossing my boundaries and walking with you in the rain.

Looking at your intricate design of ‘difference’,

Smelling your carefree

And giving an audience to your being.

For a second there I am lost-

Smiling with you and talking to you

While trying to figure out how you function so smoothly,

Lost in the moment

Taking in the sunshine,

Sharing parts of yourself to this world

That you never had time to tell anyone.

You intrigue me.

Gasp for air like we all do

Give me proof of your mortality

Touch, and leave a mark

Don’t disappear like that.

But even as I say this,

You are just a passing sight I cannot realise.

I thought school trained me for life;

Why didn’t anyone warn me about the dangers of affection before?

A letter for the love of my life

I wish forgetting you was like cleaning an easy stain on my favourite shirt,

But you don’t stop the affect like a good stain.

You’re more like the dark rectangle on my wall where that photo frame once was:

Impossible to merge with the present.

The dust on the bookshelves reminds me of the beautiful care in you

And so does the empty bed.

You never forget to leave an impression, don’t you?

 

You always had that style

Ruling over my heart in college too

You stained my soul with love.

Once there, painted all over with colour

Marriage, kids, living together.

 

People look at me today like a sad old man subject to life’s miseries

But darling I still have that poetry in me you would love.

I still go to Natural’s for a midnight treat but now I order only one scoop,

I wish you were there to finish another

I promise I wouldn’t have complained like I usually did when you were here.

I wish you could come back

 

Here I am, doing it again,

I told my doctor I wouldn’t wish unreasonable things:

For you to be back and for me to be the same without you.

Sorry.

 

So, getting to the point.

I’m writing in memory of the lovely girl with whom I aged and faced life.

The girl that showed me how wonderful life can get

Even when it just doesn’t seem to get any better

I’m promising her that I’m going to respect that and learn from it

I’m going to fight depression and stop being a cliché

(We never liked the mainstream anyway.)

My days are still as tinted with you

As they were before.

I still love you and forgive me for talking about trying to remove your stain.

Your stain is in the deepest part of what makes me the person I am.

Your stain is a reminder of beauty-

Impossibly pure beauty- that once garnished my life.

Yes, I have become a romantic as you suspected I would

(Remember when I would laugh at cheesy posts like these? Well, life pays back.)

And I thank you for that.

 

Yours forever.

 

(I’m still jealous that you got to know what death is like, before I did

And yes, yes, I will stop flirting with the young lady that stays across the road:

I never meant anything serious,

She still misses your morning chai.)

 

~~~

Inspired by the emotions of the main character in the movie ‘Madaari’, for his lost child.

Thoughts before a journey

Hey beautiful,

Today, I just want to talk about life, unlike my usual posts here. It’s pretty queer, the situation. My life is going pretty good, and some might even say that it’s amazing but I don’t feel amazing, lately. I think it’s the mixed emotion of feeling nostalgic and a little scared and excited and useless.

Let me give you some backstory here. I am 18 years old, and going to move to my college’s residential campus in 22 days. I have never lived away from home, without my parents for longer than a week so the mere situation freaks me out. I’m really looking forward to the entire independence of it all, but the nervousness right now is like the 2 minutes before a performance.

I have got to know of such amazing people that will be at college so it is really exciting but then again, will I make a good group of friends? Then again, is having a group of friends more important than having many, different friends like I have had till now? I don’t know.

The concept of me living on my own interests me because at home, I’m a messy person and those who suffer from this are really only my family;I don’t mind the mess as long as I clean it soon enough. Will this magically change once I’m in college and my frustrated grandmother doesn’t clean up my bed? I don’t know.
Yesterday, I went to buy some stuff for college and amidst the soap holder and cleaning brush, the shopkeeper asked me if I wanted a rolling pin to make dough, for rotiI felt like I was settling down in a new house or something. “No, OF COURSE not, I don’t need a rolling pin. I’m going to college, not settling down,” I told him, half-scared, half-amused.

Apart from the social factor of living somewhere away from home, the academics in my college excites me. Being the competitive person I am, I’m waiting to see the classroom atmosphere of my college. Yet, I have this lingering debate in my head-what if I’m not good enough for it, or even to compete with it? What if my mental faculties have a dead end somewhere? I rebuttal this with my belief that if really want to do well at something, I will never really give up. Hopefully, this belief stays in those moments of doubt.

I also feel a little useless at this point because I wish I did more with my time. Vacations are “meant” for chilling out but really, what am I doing with these moments of my life when I’m binge-watching Community and eating Chocos till 3 in the morning? I’m doing a few projects but I feel like I’m not doing enough. Maybe the solution is that I need to start journaling again. Yeah I need to do that.

So this is where I am at, standing at the edge of my bed, looking at my unopened empty suitcase, waiting to see if I’m ready to take on the excitement and leave the nervousness for a few days before I leave. Holding one emotion of hope for a good journey sounds like a good idea for me right now.

Yeah, I think I will open my cupboard and start filling the suitcase now.

Until next time,
Charuvi.

My open heart doesn’t want surgery

I felt my rib cage crack through,

A word at a time, it gave way.

My heart poured through then,

To all the magic before me.

I felt that the stuff that filled my heart

Was kin to melted chocolate,

Banana ganache, soft dough

And everything that spoke of

The fragile strength in vulnerability.

I wanted to be in the illusion forever-

The illusion of art and performance

Because, and this is epiphany,

There was nothing more I wanted

Than to be so wholly vulnerable to beauty.

 

“I gave her/him/it/them my heart,”

They say.

But I want to do it all the time.

Poetry is beautiful

Drama is beautiful

Dance is beautiful

Song is beautiful

Because they are what move things in the universe

Somethings that are finally closer to real than magic.

Performance is an open heart

Facing the surprisingly persistent raindrops;

Bracing yourself for the beautiful sunshine.

 

Performance and beauty really should be synonyms.

 

The movie ‘Stuck In Love’ proved to be a great inspiration for this post. It’s a beautiful movie.

My hairstylist.

🎶

I look at her beauty,

Not just simply her body:

I see the attitude on her lips,

A fullness in that pink;

The risk in her hair,

A dash of electric blue;

The bold on her eyes-

More than a look, really:

The daunting played by black coal.

I see through the facade now

 

I see her past-

Rotting away in a cage of misery,

Sickening in the mirage of beauty

 

How could she have allowed herself to live thus?

How could she have let situations kill her?

 

I see her beauty in that resolve

And for the hundredth time,

I appreciate it,

I beautify it,

I love it.
And I hope for more of it.