New endings

Nobody ever prepared me for goodbyes

They just came knocking at the door

Right when I was all cozy in bed.

Professors talking about final papers,

My last packet of pasta becoming waste.

The talk of seeing someone somewhere new

Old walks with familiar people that will change.

 

Everything will change.

The way they teased me or the way they loved me

Or the way they loved themselves.

And the things they have forgotten will be remembered

And the things they remember will have to be reminded

Then.

Or maybe they will never forget,

Maybe after all these years they will know

And fondly,

Who my person is,

And maybe they will raise their hand for a high five

And I will be confused in my handshake

Who knows how long greetings stay?

 

Maybe I am scared of my own wave

How it glides and moves and craves change

How does loss affect me

When this distance,

this cold wind, is what

starts my fire?

 

But things have to end for new beginnings

And so I will pack my bags and smile at my room,

Look at these people I love,

Give them hugs, “take care”s

And share a joke or two,

Creating memories till our fingers have to miles apart,

Incapable of a reminder of our tenderness.

 

Maybe loss hurts me,

(How can someone choose a reality away from ours?)

But in this hurt I will bleed with them,

Until our love reaches somewhere permanent.

Who knows,

Maybe that warmth will be enough to light a fire again?

 

~~~

Featured image is not my own.

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Winter says,

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My fingers feel flowers;

Rusted swing chains;

Standard, pale, blue poles;

The touch of people who stay,

But they return to emptiness.

I walk along city streets

And broken pavements which

Water conversations for two

But the darkness is haunting.

The moon asks me for you.

I remember those rough hands;

Lines that gave you the freedom to fly.

I remember travelling over them,

Seeing my world within their grasp-

With dreams to hold and a future

Too beautiful to be mundane at all.

“Where are you, darling?” again,

The winds whistle to me.

I look at the stars, the deep blue sky

Ceilings seem too far-I don’t know why

My hands are clueless, catching misery.
Lines blurry, confused, craving, today.

“But wait for the interval!” I fervently say.

The lens will show me scaling, anon!

Threads will hold each other tight and

Rush to make rough, familial vines,

You watch! I’ll sail over winds and oceans.

I’ll chase the sun! I’ll befriend the trees.

The moment winter enters my skin,

Telling me, “Open your eyes and

Just see yourself awake, for once.”

~~~

Inspired by the movie La La Land! 🙂

Sunset Waves

Rocking me to sleep
They woke me again.
It was give and take
And give and take
And surprise surprise-
Here comes a wave!
All joy and happiness
Until the sun drowns.

Until the sun drowns
The waters call out,
Lovingly they plead for me
Like they would die for me.
Every embrace, every touch
They try to convince me,
But I’m far too drunk
And in love, to concede.

And in love, to concede,
They show me their impurities.
The sand and gravel underneath
All their sparkling transparencies.
I wash my old, confused face
And they soon drift far away.
My eyes cry out, asking the ocean-
“Leave me now; it’s already seven!”

“Leave me now; it’s already seven!!”
They echo back, scared of the dark.
I know their misery of night:
The stars never reach back in time,
The moon is just a pretty illusion-
It fades away and leaves again.
Penance in the dark waters,
The fish squeal and hide.

The fish squeal and hide,
I wish I could calm them.
But I just walk away, then.
It’s too late and too powerful-
The punishment of the sunset waves.
But, if I could do anything
I would sit there all night
Returning every embrace.

~~~
This is a poem come out of my experience of the beaches in Goa. It was a wonderful, four day trip and I’m so glad it moved me enough to write poetry after such a long time. Credits to my resourceful friends(when do I ever carry paper and pen?), the beautiful weather in my college (when I was writing this) and the girl on my mind all the time. I’m so happy to be back here. I’ll return with a wonderful piece soon!

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.

The storm I hated.

Date of post: 15th Jan

“You know what,”
I typed furiously.
“There is a drop of water that you may see
and I may see
And I will see it,
Yet you will not.”

Only, I didn’t type. It was a thought, blown by the storm of my conscience, to the front of my mind. It was the agitation of a revolt. Though similar to others I had had, this was new at the moment.

And at the moment I felt like fighting. Fighting in the wild sea with everything but the force behind it’s wilderness. I couldn’t find the force, you see. I loved the sea too intensely to see its reality. And it wrecked me. For my love was failing me every minute.

I always thought that I would want to be one of those the sea loved. Those pristine wholesome fish, living in clear water, removed from human lives. Yet somewhere along the lines I learnt to accept my position as the rusted, isolated ship. The ship that was nothing more than one entangled, broken mess on the side.

Oh and how I admired those pristine, wholesome fish. I saw how they charmed the sea. I wished I was them for a minute. But they did make me feel like I was worthless. They made me feel like I was not admired, all those times when the sea forgot I was there.

Still, hear, hear all of the world- I did feel like one of those that the sea loved-when the sea did recognise the bond between. Only recognise I say, not accept or embrace.

So then who am I to blame for the storm between us? The sea, the fish or I?

Maybe I am to blame the mirror that deceived me: my pristine, wholesome self, which was beautiful in it’s own way- just, in a galaxy where I saw a drop of water in all it’s importance, and the sea plainly saw a vast, undefinable blue stretch.

~~~

I had written this story as a metaphor for a relationship that saw no reciprocity from one end. The narrator expresses her angst for she loves someone who doesn’t love her back and wishes that her love could see the storm that she could see-the torture of his loving behaviour.

Days like this.

Hey beautiful,

I met my best friends today but it felt like something different. It felt like we peeled back another layer between us. We watched an unconventional movie and everyone laughed- like they’d understood what had passed and moved on with the future. How big of a thing that is, I hope they’d measured. We’d grown together in that time-as people in a relationship.

Looking back at our personalities, it’s amazing that we can grow together. There are some things uncomfortable but we’re getting past that. We’re getting past habits and expressions of love and schedules. We’re helping each other out and I’m grateful for that kind of a relationship.

I went with one of them to the beach after and watched the waves crash while talking about dreams. We spoke about what we’re doing and what we want to do. We talked about nature, out of all the pure things to talk about. The day altogether honestly felt like it had slept on a soft cloud gently. It felt beautiful.

Later, I went home and laughingly removed the sand from my shoes. I kept the shoes back on the stand but on another day soon, I’ll find the sand of my memories, preciously remove them from my present and keep myself ready for another beautiful day, embedded in my future.

Thank you for these memories.

Yours,
Charuvi.

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Me, Jahanvi and Sanjukta (from the right) at an event a few days a week ago!

Beauty and rains

Beauty.

Beauty of the mind,

Of the soul,

Of nature,

And of the little things

Your touch, one kind gesture,

A warm smile,a heartfelt apology.

 

This beauty-so real in every second, every moment, every ounce of the air we breathe-captivates me.

It urges me to be alive.

Away from the aspects of life that make me close my eyes, I’m grateful to be alive.

 

Eyes open, senses heightened, woes are forgotten and the rest of life seems assured.

And the feeling that comes with experiencing first rains is unimaginable

It is beyond the ‘I feel at peace’

It is beyond expressions and mere amateur words.

If is like the birth of a baby, the realization of

A first success or the turn of a century.

It’s the pride in being,

In living and feeling.

It’s the caramel-enveloping sound of symphonies.

It’s so much and more

Yet, it’s  nothing simpler than the most intimate thing- LIFE.

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