The calm post the chaos…

Have you ever observed the nature pre/post a chaos?

Its very similar; the rustling leaves tumbling down to the brown crust,

The river waters so calm that even the riverbeds cannot feel its presence,

The bird building its nest on the same cherry blossom tree just that the tree doesn’t have leaves anymore,

The squirrel looking for chestnuts but the chestnuts aren’t their anymore.

Such blurry description I know must not be making sense to you,

I will word it down for you, the silence before the storm is peaceful but the silence post a storm is a deafening one.

Similarly after the storm you should not keep the same intentions,

So after the storm you should not continue to believe the same,

You should actually absorb the storm within you and not make it dreadful,

Because letting go and giving up might seem the easier option,

But anything easy cannot pay back for your efforts,
The fruit of success must be borne by the hands who worked hard.

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The Lady of Roses.

He liked the red ones best. Standing there at the florist’s wasn’t a new chore of his everyday routine. He had been here often and the saga of melting and breaking hearts will continue, as he always falls for the wrong person. Still not sure about his feelings, the fool takes the bouquet to brunch. Red had always been his colour, he felt that somehow red was actively involved in both sides of the spectrum somewhere signifying love, happiness and passion, whereas somewhere signifying frustration, anger and hatred.

The lanes of Grey Street had never been so chaotic. Cars honking, dogs barking and kids crying. Ron had been living here for the past six years but the downpour this time was just so unexplainable. It took him 25 seconds to register that he has moved past his destination. Somehow bearing with the nature’s nuisance he arrives at his destination a bit late. The lady of roses is standing there waiting for him with a frown, it seems to be all over for the little chap, but as they say the gambler always knows to win the lady and the trump. Ron parked his car went out in the rain with the bouquet and that gentleman like gesture was overwhelmingly enough as an apology. She takes her seat while he drives past the traffic, smoothly. He always had a very strange and sweet chemistry with this one. They were fighting over the songs playing in the stereo system. When suddenly a soundtrack plays, ” this night is cold in the kingdom I can feel you fade away”. The song made all the disagreements fade away and both the souls sat there singing the song in their own worlds.

Somehow both of them were dressed in white. They enter the Bistro with cheered up souls. They take their table, and Ron being the gentleman he was, pulled the chair for the lady. Both glancing through the menu stopped on the same dish to order. Coincidence. Both wore white. Coincidence. Both loved the same song. Coincidence.

This thing had been jamming well for the two of them. Making constant efforts towards each other was visible, intentions not so clear. This is where Ron fell prey to his own affection. Ron started believing that somehow she also felt the same way. Then her phone rings and she excuses herself and receives the call. She comes back to the table seeming all so happy as if she had won a lottery or something. Ron asks the reason for this strange outburst of emotions. She tells him that how her boyfriend was coming to meet her, from Brooklyn. Ron just takes the blow with a pretentious smile and told her how glad he was.

The brunch got over and with a dead heart, a fake smile he drops her home. Ron then goes back to his safe haven and pours himself a large peg of Red Label.

The colour red was again on both sides of the spectrum. Somewhere it was in a vase radiating love, somewhere else it was in a glass radiating sorrow.

What keeps on happening….

Hearts, they keep colliding,

Souls, they keep intertwining,

You fall in and out of it,

Is this more of a mirage or more of a reality,

Figuring out the mystery of this strange affection,

Is pretty insane. You tend to act normal and sane,

But the world can only view you as a fanatic.

 

Running through the parks,

fountains and beaches,

I forgot where my home was,

I lost the path to where my last resort was.

Isn’t this what one wants…

Kites, kites in the sky,

Birds chirping in the orchards,

A bouquet of roses, a box of chocolates,

A mind filled with dreams, a heart filled with love,

Living wild and free from the chaos of the world,

Finding my solace on the window ceil, staring at the stars,

Is this what love does to you???

Not even twice do you think before saying yes,

Not even once do you sigh when you are with her,

Is it her presence or her fragrance that you are always so nauseous of the world,

Making espresso, writing down all your fantasies is this what it feels like to be complete…

Moth….

My world was just perfect before you doomed it with the gaze in your eyes,

Your eyes that glitter like the gold dust on the banks of nile,

I got attracted towards you like the waves are towards the shore,

But still like that hopeless moth drawn to fire, I was drawn to my deathbed, dire..

You would be thinking what is your mistake in this present circumstance,

So I will lay it all blunt to you, had it not been for your glance,

I wouldn’t have done any of this nuisance…

But before leaving I would dedicate you a few lines as remembrance,

Your pretty smiles and frowns are like the pleasures of substance,

And your sugarcoated lies were worse than the hits from a Demon’s mace…

Wanna be, What a wanna be…

Just wanna be the beat to your music,

Just wanna be the reason of your smile,

Wanna be the embroidery of your scarf,

The madness to your calm,

The content of your story,

The beast in our tale -beauty and the beast,

The stallion of your stable,

Wanna be the topping on your Sunday sundaes,

The morning bliss on your dull afternoons,

Is it that hard to be your “the one” in your contacts,

Even if it is not, your priceless smile is worth more than the phenomenon that glitters gold dust near the river banks…

Just like her…

She is like the escaping smoke of cigarette,

Like the eagle soaring in the sky, she moves

The way she talks is like the robins chirping,

She is like the dings of the door bell ring,

Like the beautiful spring breeze, her presence can be felt,

She is the pacified ocean on 14th June blues,

The way she carries herself is like the Queen of Victoria walking into the ball room,

The fabrication of her truth is as fragile as the dragonfly wings,

Reading her is like reading a foreign epic,

The true version of her is like the moon of a scary night,

This might seem like an extravagation of a description but it is true with an essence of perfection…

Roll your eyes…

Eyes, where all the problem lies,

So,

Don’t roll your eyes,

Don’t tell all lies,

Don’t talk about the tragedies,

Don’t tell me about the holocausts in the skies,

Don’t talk about the shivering cold ice,

Don’t talk about my cowardice,

Don’t talk about fake smiles,

Don’t ask about the distance in miles,

Don’t talk aloud of the price,

Don’t leave me behind to cry upon my choices,

Okay! Do whatever you feel like.

Just don’t roll your eyes…

 

What if?

What if everything you experience is nothing but a sea shore?

What if everyone you come across is nothing but a wave unsettled?

What if the lights are nothing but the Sunrays on the ocean green?

What if every wrong decision of your was because of a mirage under the scorching son?

What if every mistake of yours came with a silver lining?

What if every moment you spent under the moonlit sky was paradise?

What if everyone in your life somehow kindle fire of passion?

What if every conversation you had was a tale with fable?

What if the sky was dark there was a dawn you always witnessed…

Similarly all the hard times will pass and the sun will break at dawn and take all your pain away…..

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