The last visit of heart

It wasn't that the thought of visiting that place
( The only place that knew both of them )
Came that very evening.
Heart throwing tantrums to the head
Of listening a voice
Of seeing a face
Of reliving few hours

It was the result of overhearing
The hearts yelling almost every morning
When wanting to see the expression
And not the Emojis dashing on the screen
Saying good morning never satisfies
The want to talk to him
The want to listen his voice

Finally she was going
But deciding on what to look like was difficult

We never like to change but
Time has it's plan too

So there was something different now
She choose a blend of both
( The past & The present).
As she reached the place
Inspite of being familiar
The walls, the gate and whispers of the trees there
Were not like of her people

And then someone came too see her.
She entered the building talking to that someone.
Her eyes,
Her ears,
All were busy but not in listening to that someone
But they were busy finding
The person whom they wanted hear and adore

All of the corners were like
Mom's home after marriage
Known but now holding different stories
Covering the old like never known

Finally the heart was trying to speak to the eye and the ear

It's time to befriend the head
It's time to think then to sense
It's time to stop expecting stars on a rainy day
It's time to stop counting star in streets of light and smoke

Comments

The shying words

How do you believe the moon isn't whispering your stories to someone aren't the chance of him whispering it to some writer high May be one of the reasons why you related to the story yesterday on Netflix May be that's how your crushes end up in your favorite color today May be that's how you cleared the interview today How do you know the moon isn't working on his script with your lines If you can believe someone that far How do we end up doubting the skin and flesh besides and around us If we don't hold expectations and grudges when it comes to him Why wonder for years over a message that din come through I don't understand how we whisper our secrets to the mountains and the sea but fear of losing them against the people we breathe with How do we trust the living forms breathing without the flesh over the living we can touch and feel How do I trust the paper with my words and strangers with my smiles With every question I pen I end of writing hope, belief, ...

Meeting a boy

I ask mom can I go out with him, she says no in blocks caps and everything to make it loud enough So that I don't try to convince her I ask mom if I can go out with her As first like always she says no, but after 2 or 3 attempts She is fine with the plan I wonder what is the difference May be she thinks The she I would be hanging out with Won't hug me Or kiss me Or put her arms around my waist Or on the shoulders Or come close enough to increase my heart beat Or hold my hands and walk around Or bring me flowers and chocolates and gifts Or take me on a dinner date Or for lunch Or for a date just with a cup of tea and lots of eye to eye talking and so much of silence But we will be together all this while But aren't there chance of me falling for a girl But aren't there chance of the boy not liking me and just coming to say hi and a bye And everything in between it will be about the job and family we both are living with in those four walls...

Fears, are real!

All the fears are real People falling While walking While dancing While just standing still While looking at someone Failing In the exams With the expectations Of yours And your loved once And the strangers Growing In love Out of love Getting old With lessons With scars With open wounds Being stuck On page for hours and weeks In life for years and years With people till the end In thoughts of your own and the others too. With a blank full of ink but still not working Many others like People giving up on you People not fighting for you You not able to find the old you You missing yourself While you stand before the mirror With blank thoughts Like standing in a room On your own shadow Everyday at certain hour of the day All that you fear is happening is someday We just need to breathe through it Crying, yelling, laughing or just sitting through it Or just walking past it.

Blissfully inhaled and exhaled

Search This Blog