Tangled Secrecies

But darling, let’s not hurry just yet. Let us sit across, cross-legged, and untangle each other. Let us strip away each other’s guilts, regrets, everything that weighs us down. Let us caress our changes and marks that our body has bore over time. Let us not go to bed tonight. Instead, make love with our nervous and scared souls; let them out in the open, reveal our raw self, and let one another touch us bare. No, not the bare skin; the bare emotions and feelings which we keep battling with day and night, the ones we shove into the dusty corners of our mind because we are too afraid to accept what might become of us if we let them mate with our tongue. Let us untangle each other, nerve by nerve, bone by bone, and witness the bits and pieces of our memories and our passions clinging to our veins, the happy and hard times flowing in our blood. Let’s just let the blood ooze out of us till what remains in us are happy times and lessons; just lessons – not a pinch of guilt or regret. Because we get this short life and we waste it away on events we can’t undo. We keep replaying them and torturing ourselves time and again. Let us break that replay button and create love in the voids left by washed out nervousness and dirt of the past.
Come on love, let us redefine ourselves and fall in love.

Come, let’s sit across one another, cross-legged, and create each other.

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Hide and Seek

Holding you between the pages of the books, feeling you flow from one person to another, watching you wrap every person in your embrace like the mild breeze, I stand there; still, numb.

I have always been unable to understand what magic you hold in yourself that makes people dance and cry, jump and slump, smile and shrug. I don’t know how you can cut like a knife yet soothe like a peaceful walk on a calm night.

It has always been difficult for me to know when you are around me, for we have been playing hide and seek since childhood and I haven’t been able to find you till date. All the people around me tried to get us along, but our wavelengths never matched.

I probably will never be able to hug you like other people or be calmed by your warmth, for I am the dumb and you are the words. We live in the same world but will never have the privilege of meeting.

Midnight Dilemmas

There was something about her on which I couldn’t really put a finger on that didn’t let me sleep for nights at length. It was the good times that we had spent together that came in rushing like a wind and brought down my wall that I had built with so much difficulty to keep her away.

No, it was not my fault. Yes, she was the one to free our knot of love and friendship. But yes, she still, to this day wrecks havoc in my mind.

There’s something about her that keeps bothering me. Making me relive all the times we lived together and all the conversations we had and the secrets we shared so I could find one place where I must’ve gone wrong.

But this empty, horrid void stares back at me with numbing nothingness, painted with her recent carefree smiles. I plunge again into the darkness hoping to find a way out of this mind-jail.

I go through every detail again, one by one by one.

Maybe it is the sound of my entire heart shattering to bits and pieces that prevents me from putting a finger on that something, or a simple yet foreign fact to my understanding that some people can burn you piece by piece and grow gardens out of those ashes and build their happy castles on where your grave lies.

Beauty

I sit here in this empty hallway, thinking about the memories that are engraved in a way here. Memories of me and you spending quiet moments, appreciating each other’s existence; memories where I couldn’t take my eyes off you and you stood still, beautiful as always. Whenever I crossed you in this hallway, I couldn’t resist appreciating your grace and beauty. You, in turn, never said a word. But your presence said it all. All the profound words, you expressed with grace. I still can’t forget the day I first saw you. It was love at first sight and I couldn’t hold back my feelings so elite! I also can’t forget the day when you came into this house, our home. It was pure bliss, to have you around. To have your quiet yet strong presence was the strongest of feelings I felt till date.
And yet, today I stand alone in a home we made together, now abandoned. So I take this moment to say that I miss you. I miss standing so close to you, tracing your curves, looking at you with eyes and heart full of love. All that I am today is because of you. It is you who inspired me to become an artist. It is you who aroused my love for art! And yet, I had to let you go today, to another appreciator of beauty.. my most honored, beloved Hussain painting.

Daunting Lullabies

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When some other girl comes in your life, she will find my ghost still lurking in the dark corners of you.
She will be the priest who will try to purify you and I will be the evil that will refuse to leave.

She will get to know you inside out except for why you never visit that coffee shop in your neighborhood anymore. It’s because its every nook and cranny is haunted by our love.

She will never know why you always take her only to the clubs and the discos. It is because I was the one who you took home to your mother.

She will always know the best of you but I will always be the one who will have seen the worst of you. I will always be a visitor of parts of you that you have now abandoned.

I will always be there, sauntering in and around your memories.
I will always be the one who you dream of.
Daydreams then, nightmares now.

She will come to know that you had loved a lioness and tried to tame her. She will then know why you have claw marks on your soul and bite scars on your heart and why the long past pain still lingers in you.
She will know why you walk around with a decapitated self.
It’s because no one has ever walked unharmed after trying to handicap a fierce woman.
You will crave for my kind of love like an addict craves for drugs. But you will not find it anywhere.
Because my love is one of its kind and you were too late in realizing that I won’t turn back once I decide to leave.
So you will see me living happily with a lion, making memories in some other coffee shop; and your insides will burn like molten lava, when you’ll look at us from a distance like a hyena.

You will never be able to love anyone anymore, no matter how hard you try.
Because I am the one whose footprints you can’t wash off your mind and heart, whose voice flows like blood in your veins, whose laughter defines the beats of your heart; and now that I have left, your eyes give an insight of your emptiness.

Others will never know why your hollow laughter and every single breath reek with my presence and why you walk around with a ‘haunted’ placard, giving out my fragrance in every word you speak.

~ Memoirs of your haunted dreams

Journey of the Soul

I’ve been on the verge of crying for too long now.
The tears have been brimming on the edge of these eyes forever.
I know how the shattering of dreams sounds.
I know how the hollow premises of the heart echo
When it has been abandoned by its owner.
I choke halfway through my words
Some fall out, the others stay inside
Brewing their toxins into my blood.
I explode a million times on the inside
But the mundane outer appearance never changes.
The smile, in reality, is a mere carving on a stone.
I turn away from everyone, to face my little universe;
A universe made of simpler joys and sorrows of life,
A universe that has consumed the whole of me yet has consumed nothing at all.
I sit so long that my receding hairline becomes evident
And my outer self becomes weak,
But my distorted universe never ceases to storm my insides.
I stumble on a mere thunder,
I fall on the tiny gravel.
My weak body lets go of my vibrant soul,
The rains pour down on my coffin;
Entirety of universe mocking my fragile body
Yet rejuvenating my shrinking soul.
Maybe I was never meant to exist as a human.
Maybe the universe had other plans for me.
Maybe that is why when the sun’s rays broke through the clouds to fall upon my coffin, my spirit danced in joy,
Leaving behind a sparkling rainbow in its wake.

Letters to Love

Dear love,

Would you still remember my birthday like you remember that of your girl best friends’ if I didn’t take you out shopping just days before my birthday, with so many excuses?
Would you still remember our anniversary if I didn’t make my friend deliberately slip her tongue just a day before?
Would you still remember to visit my parents every time they come in our town if I stopped mentioning how much they adore you?
Would you still let me go out with my male friend if I didn’t keep reminding you of our distances time and again?

Would you still cook if I didn’t keep eating the terribly cooked food without a word?
Wouldn’t you come and kiss me goodnight in the middle of your match?
Wouldn’t you feel sorry for bursting out your anger on me for no apparent reason?
Wouldn’t you let me know if you are to spend the night out?
Wouldn’t you pick the pieces of shattered glass that broke while you hurried to leave for office?

Would the little things still matter like they did back when we were like two young birds in love? When nothing mattered more than the shells I picked while walking on the beach, or the imperfect yet perfectly crafted handmade cards you gave to me on my birthdays, or a soothing ice-cream after hours of our endless chatter.

“If you get closer to someone more than you should, you drift away more than you can bear”, they say. Is that what happened to us? Is it because we talked day and night and kept in mind all the minute details, that we now barely talk the random chatter and observe the least about each other? Or is it because we gave too much attention to each other while being teens that now we can’t really get our minds off our daily works? Tell me it’s not because we enjoyed our carefree days so much that we now stay serious most of the times!

Uncontrollable laughter has turned to made-up smiles, everyday walks have turned to monthly drives, happy, chirping meals have become long lost memories.
Seems like growing up got the better of us.

I wonder at times if you still notice that I got myself a different haircut, that I now fit perfectly into that once undersized black dress, that I changed the arrangement of our room. I wonder if you realize that we’re growing old and in a decade or two, all we’d be left with would be each other and this house. We don’t need money to fill this house with memories, we need time and moments to make memories.

So, I take this moment to say that I still love you with all the madness within me, that the smell of your cologne still sends chills down my spine, that my heart still skips a beat when I lay my eyes on your broad jawline, that I still feel butterflies flutter when I see your face after I wake up in the morning, that the crazy bike rides and the long silent walks are still afresh in my memories.

Tell me love, how did we grow apart? How did we not remind ourselves of the promise we did to each other that we’ll always be the same? How did we forget to appreciate the little things?
Tell me love, how did we come to this? How?

Love,
Aa

An Evening Of Dance

Darling, can I have this dance?

Can I have this dance, not to the piano keys, not on this stage, not before this audience, but to the midnight tunes of darkness and love?

I’d take you amidst the woods, where there would be no one but the stars and the moon as our spectators. I’d hold your hand and keep you close. We’d sway to the winds and dance to our love. We’d dance in the twilight, indifferent towards the freezing cold, warm with each other’s touch, enough for each other. We’d dance to our own tune and sing to our own chords, lost in each other. Yes, like a dream come true. Like everything we ever wished for, coming to life before our eyes.

We’d dance carefree, lost into the blissful rhythms of our hearts tuning with each other and our lips playing the strings. We’d dance in the dark oblivion with light of our love illuminating around us. We’d dance to the unknown yet serene music created by the rattling winter leaves, whistles of a mild breeze, and tapping of our rhythmic steps.

Wouldn’t it be beautiful to dance just for each other, to open our eyes, brimming with magic, to see through each other? Wouldn’t you let me have this honor of showing you my naked soul and accept you as you are, intact with every flaw and beauty, to dance with bare souls under the moonlight? Wouldn’t you dance with me in the starlight where we forget about our past and stand as individuals, vulnerable to all emotions, where there exists no “you” or “I”, just our song of love? Wouldn’t you let me hold your hand if you happen to stumble or hold mine if I do, for we are all flawed humans trying to make sense of our imperfections? Wouldn’t you let me see you as you walk under the moon and not on the red carpet or touch your bare rosy flesh without the layers of made-up perfection?

I’d hold your hand and dance through this life. I’d listen to all your rhythms and create some with you. I’d dance with you forever just like I would in the darkness of this night. I’d feed your passions and take away your fears, capture the raw emotions and let you free like a bird in the sky. Together we’d create a legacy of wild, passionate romance and leave behind this tune of love to reverberate in our posterity.

Now tell me darling, won’t you dance with me?

Drafts

All our memories stay buried in these drafts. All the words left unsaid, all the places left unexplored, all the feelings left to express; lined up one by one into the drafts.

It has witnessed the countless trails of salty drops making a river on the rosy flesh, escaping the sea of emotions spiraling like a whirlwind into the eyes; a blink of an eye and a tear runs free from its clutch. These drafts have seen it all. They’ve seen the childish promises, they’ve borne an untold teen-hood story, they’ve hidden the gravest secrets, and they’ve absorbed countless shades of love. They’ve seen the fights they’ve seen the patch ups. They’ve seen the arguments and apologies.
From a misunderstanding to a love filled rehearsal, they’ve seen it all, they’ve borne it all.

They’ve been there when a little girl was writing down all her fears, they’ve been there when the young beautiful wrote about her crush, with a scarlet shade of blush invading her soft flesh, they’ve been there when a lady first wrote about her life with her better half, they’ve been there to be a place for the same woman to write down all her crushed hopes and broken promises.
They’ve seen it all, they’ve heard it all.

They’ve seen the hearts go cold, they’ve felt the rising tension, they’ve heard the never-ending arguments, they’ve been through the drunk remorse of a tired man, they’ve touched a broken soul. Rambled thoughts, cluttered mind, peaceful heart, lustful love – all saved in the drafts. Life stories singing an unsung tale of hearts turned sore and time healing the wounds, of life taking unsaid turns and blessings coloring the path with unconditional love.
They’ve seen it all they’ve felt it all.

They speak volumes for the tongue abandoned by words and for the violent love made by keys and fingers giving birth to passages of raw emotions. They stand untouched, unheard, far from the reach of the world, seen by only the ones who wrote them. They’ve experienced bright color of love, painted by trembling, amateur hands. They’ve been there to witness hearts dancing with joy, spreading the fragrance of joy and laughter with mere words.
They’ve seen it all, they’ve smelt it all.

Drafts are not merely some words. Drafts are the souvenirs of long forgotten fragrances left behind with the bits of crushed flowers that once blossomed with vibrant emotions.
They hold in them, the power of destruction; the power of love.
Such is the mightiness of the drafts that they sink in every little emotion, every single idea, without a trail for anyone else to trace. They remain hidden, away from the notice of the world, into the layers of our mailbox, filled with dusty memories that were kept safe into the corners of our hearts.

Such is the anonymity of drafts – they’ve seen it all, they’ve absorbed it all.