The Breakdown of the Presence

On the very first day of this year, I saw myself losing to spilling milk on the shelf by the virtue of excessive ignition on the stove. I went ignorant for a second to witness the new blueness of the year on the sky. I was wrong. I should have been careful…
As the world have shifted places, numerous words being put into our head, with newer views bracing our eyes and all those days and months we have spent in exploring the unexplored, I seem to believe more in maturity that is skipping out sight every awhile. With crook words and unforgivable incidents shaping our today’s self, I’m getting paranoid as to where are we heading to, and before I sleep, I want to make sure, as I write, that I get to what I wanted to, not what the world wishes me to or where they find me mingling up with them. Basically, in easy description, it could be like ‘ Finding out the real you’. I find that really cliche to write..
So, breaking soon the presence is what put to strike everyone’s right chord. It’s like correcting the basic grammar of the lyrics of life. It could be baseless, of course, pointing the poetry at it’s authenticity to prove what’s it trying to depict. See, no one likes playing goofs with time. It asks for clarity, but I’m sorry I can’t be clear enough.
I am the present you see, and I’m struck at nothing. I see a wide horizon through the window of my room shaping up my today. Even, a blatant kick at my back does the same job with greater efficiency. I walk through the roads that ferries me to my place daily. My car gets the job done for me with a push of my feet, even faster. I often ask people of my adequacy with them. The answer approximately comes positive. Few discussions with my notebook bring me same reply and even with more “true that” factor.
The memories that I have with me today is worthless if it doesn’t corrects me to what I do to fix my today. I fail my purpose if I don’t suggest my surrounding to be better. Silence could be fatal if I choose it to be my guest at all timesIf such words of mine are out in public, it shall be an outage as to what it really means. It shall be failure again if it fails to be understood. All in all, its a failed situation I’m into. Standing on the tip of the mountain I see and feel nothing but my breath getting high as there’s no one around. By the way it’s not the mountain I was supposed to be on. The Stars, they say, don’t light up the nights here!
I witness too much of “I’ness”, that’s once lost. Hesitance in acceptance of the truth of missing. That’s fine with me if I don’t skip a beat to the miraculous that’s bound to happen. Failure doesn’t surprises me anymore. I accumulate lots of winning attires on my body as just another thing shaping me my today. Fancy, it’s just another night and blow of emotion pushing me to admit what’s easy on life. Pity if it’s place in seclusion wherein I pledge to confuse life with a fairy tale; the sun doesn’t teach us the lesson of being consistent or we have finally found the concrete reason of as to who made this world and for what purpose!
Here it goes, a random talk on life!

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A Beauty on the Side walk

Innocent but yet wild in answers. All the world is yet to praise this little soul hiding her spectacle onto her left. This as it seems isn’t a dream and isn’t yet to hold praise of holding one. All of the darkness have already faded which in the unexpected manaouvers have taken turns to inspire! 

Let’s begin! 

In the world of charms, outside my heart, I still don’t feel the breath seizing out the need of me. Every other day becomes a question with changing meanings. Who does pays heed to needless motivations, after all? In today’s mean world, who wants to remember the information that hurts? 

My adventure with the beauty begins at home. I aspire to inspire my wants to walk up. When the ultimate magic happens, I retreat to good technology that hurts my eyes and ultimately my brain cells. And the war goes on until I push the bed with my back with no more stuttering fingers. What I mean ‘beauty’ here is the usual life; a forgetful life. 

The burning light over the other end of shore plunders every hope of survival unless it doesn’t respond. So, practically it keeps a watch on us but it just keeps on staring. That light is what we need to have an answer to. This calls to find a meaning of another beauty. 

As I reiterate, ” Innocent it is, yet wild in answers”. I see her yawning towards my side in bewilderness, towing her legs a little more titled and face looking for an hideout from the outside world. And I sit calm reading the story with own lenses. Unsaid is the glimpse of the another time ahead, but I hear our words in perfect sync. I don’t answer and she forgets to question that’s what keeps the distance going. While I fail to admit what her guardians are upto? Or what if it’s just a blunder? Am I just playing foul? 

Let’s take the shot. I have no one else to share this word. I knew down and put a constant stare. She suddenly puts her wide eyes shut. It calm as only I hear her hair crawling down in the air for freedom. 

And then, I just stop. And do what I need to do. No bad intentions at all! 

Lantern/You/Me

Well, it’s not about me and you and maybe it’s also not about the world either. This shifting place from my feet and flashing lights on my skin from the nearby window wants an answer as to why you aren’t here where you should have been? You fear places, do you? 

An account of your beauty if you would have watched beyond silly innocence of yours, I should have walked across the earth barefeet only if you would have your bright eyes on me like sun in the mornings and stars in the night! Well, you seem arrogant, so let’s just see distances but without you! 

All those who wait for me fear I shall write beyond my wits if I don’t shy away and yet they won’t scream as you would listen. Mind that all world’s flowers doesn’t smell like your scent, and I don’t kill pleasure with pleasure either. So, will you spend a while on what’s going up in my mind or you’ll just make me go lull without your voice in my soul this night? Of course, you will… 

As I go blank that the ruptures in my bleeding heart is no more a surprise, you have lost the money that you got to spend when happiness asks for barter and in the wee hours of midnight, I won’t come less than a scarecrow to let you scream and jump on me like a bubble in the sky. You see, you won’t be able to touch me either! 

Shall I pause for you or what? Coz’ I’ve some books pending to be composed and some few prizes yet to be nameplated for me. And as I suffer a little for the vacancy that I feel now, atleast I got a cure against the current of you. Well, only if that’s permanent! I wish…

So, I know you won’t ask what’s this is about? A prank on me or just to show how much hurt it is on my side which I want to show or is it another legitimate preposition to approve of my creativity or my last effort to pick things up again, and I know you answer this is not going to work either! The glasses that you’ve on your face are smarter than me, innocent than me, and clearer than me, you piece of dirt! As a matter of fact it’s irrespective of the fact that I won’t ask for another favor which you believe to be the only reason I do anything for the atrocities that you go through. And to every irreparable point, I will say no! Enough free I am to extinguish 🔥 when the room is full of nothing. A moron I am to expect while everything you have given to me is a gift. And I focus on you a little more, I surely say it’s the love I’m talking about which I vehemently admitted to and see, how the smog have stopped hurting my eyes anymore! A mere masterpiece of nature I’m you see, a dirt! 

So, whoosh the lantern on the chair, spreading fire as I bit my lips in surprise, as simply it’s the daylight and it’s consuming unnecessary fuel, as opposed to the darkness that you whooshed away like magic, once. You don’t see the lights that have begun to adore and your eyes are nothing more than another tunnel to feel breathlessness. You see, how easy it was to consume poison uptil now and in the tumbling stand of yours in today’s world, you sleep as if nothing happened and the next morning similar tune sings on your mouth. I’m sorry but I made you my uninvited guests for nothing tonight that you move back and forth and it shivers every nerve in me with the falling scene of life. I’m sorry but I made you the context of this story and I used you for my words that never were inspired from you. That who inspire atleast have a presence on the larger scale. And as I weep as I compose, you seem to be turning off the lights of yours that were once, yes once, indeed once, were heaps of hope perpuating wiseness and gentleness and goodness and truthfulness and breathfulness and every beautifulness…

Such a beautiful you/Me!

Little Unfair

Long long time ago, in the winning world, a dreamer stepped out of the pond filled with happiness spilling the lores on the floor just like that. He had one thing to come out of, and to make the people believe that ‘it’ really exists! 

Smilingly​ he kept on going, the ashes made his feet burn, the sun kept tearing his head down and his heart sinking in the dust. Still he went on, to fill the list of his own; to find another happiness in town. His model of action had no failure, unknowingly he remained stiff against the world. Not doing out of someone’s saying or someone’s order but to fulfil his own self and to never question why did he actually stepped out…
One may say he’s the man, he may find something one day. One may say he’s hard man to get, he’s out of reach.
One may even affront to his mediocrity. 

At least one should have stood in the front on his, asking what’s he upto? One must have been surprised to realise what makes such a commitment go further than life, isn’t it? 

Lots of words in play, and his journey now stands still on the pavement of a known. He doesn’t hesitates to relate affinity in souls. He doesn’t fail to openly confess. Now what he begs on to know the other side of the story, to know what stands behind the door; what makes up curiosity take the breath out. It seems like it may set him free if he realizes. Chemically, the other world shall be answering. 

In the darker walks of life, when he shouts for where he came from, what journey he is on, and now where he paused to. Of the people who play, the lives of themselves as well as the others, what shall put an end to these everlasting strong moron beings? They have adequately learnt to adapt to the situation. 

He leaves a mark on the dying sun in an unfairer dusk playing games to end towards an everlasting tunnel of darkness. It shall be suffocating it seems, he thinks but no wonder if anyone won’t ever ask where did he went. 

What was his story

Seems a little unfair!

At The End of the Day!

Before this beginning, if the pages weren’t blank, I wouldn’t have begun. Empty that that is, a world of wonders, it becomes rather relevant to compose whether it creates meaning or it doesn’t… It just better to keep it filling or it’ll just be a swamp over laziness..

Those few seconds left to lose until the dying day, 

Few memonts to spare ourselves and listen… 

If tonight these words will hit the right chord, 

All of the world will make it’s worth come true. 

This in the morning would anyone have wondered if I would knew this night has to end with failure in hand. And every so, does this day keeps on going like an aeroplane in the sky unknown where to go. Direction is what those in the meters digitally there show, but I don’t know where to go. Still I’m in the air flying on the heights of life. At the verge of shrinking dreams, one seems losing the urge to fly. There’s so land offering sweetness and bitterness is what that follows the flow. And at the end if the day, an empty soul finds an empty mate. 

Listen to this story, as if it isn’t something new but it’s different. Near your ears, listen to the music shuffling the tones one after the another. Shift your feet a little and feel the hollowness beneath the earth. Move your eyes around and witness the slumber. 
So, this be the end of to day and impossibly another one to follow!

The Lantern on the Chair 2

She’s a known world, an aftermath of a brilliantly crafted story projected to selected people of questionable character. She’s something one sees and keeps in mind for a while and then forgets, as if it never happened. A moral that is never meant to be learnt or a vista that is never to be stored in a beautiful memory. Still she persists, as life persists as long as the breath is alive.

Her charishma in the cruel world stands tall. Her tales of mystery still confuses the real you. Her smile of dignity finds a place amongst the fear of losing things. And there, we quip to ourselves if she’s still the lantern on the chair we once saw and unconditionally believed in.
 Of course, she is… 

Having written and asked the words of life in one conversation where the people over the other side of the world stood still, the noises made no more audible to this rather overly active ears, and the nature went curious as to how to explain the matter of facts and emotions into few words, she sat close to her knacking heart and listened to it’s every suggestion. The time was tuff but even tuff she was, smiling and giggling out of her beautiful plait. She spoke of what was meant to be spoken, an adequate answer to an adequate question. 

Now having distance meant nothing but a visible knot waiting to weave a dress of life which is wore at a special occasion. She is there, gleaming her eyes on a rather questionable​ deed. In the weather of extreme temperatures, she stands lifting off every anger that ever persisted. By no means she will not ask, nor will she answer as to why she made herself the victim of nothing. Through the eyes of an another victim, she be the light holding the grace of the finest mornings of the future. 

Even getting older than yesterday wasn’t easy that she remarked that she won’t be there anytime soon and she won’t solve the puzzles anymore. Her thoughts paddling over the limitless sky won’t answer to any question that will ever be asked. She chooses to be silent in the world of chaos and forgery. 

So, I don’t believe in a predictable future, I don’t overdo the demand of prevalant today and I don’t repent for the withered past, and in the voyage of life’s search I see the lantern on the chair, graceful and free as she always was. 

A Few Good Men

Enough said for the world, it’s the time to yield positivity for us! 

So, yes we aspire to be the perfect version of ourselves at all times. Not completely over our pride but on our overall looks too. The world seems to realise our importance by the way we dress and how we flaunt our biceps and triceps. Yes, we see a better future for ourselves and in the music of present we sing the song of other’s beauty and fell no short for appraising the same. Time for us is a validity to get things done. We want more of it just in the case of success, but it passes just like a blow of air in the spineless atmosphere. 

We are truly confused in our own senses as to we fail to truly understand what’s the other side of the story. It may be about the other sex, the background plot of some mischievous activity that happened to be in our work environment or to realise what could be a better aspect of doing something. It just that we cannot fully understand but can make a newer version of understanding things. This makes a plenty of misinterpreted happenings around the world a little less confusing. 

We admire trust and commitment. We put our stakes on anything that makes us feel confident about ourselves and just in case we fail, we don’t lose heart. We explore the possibility of losing at a larger scale than to lose at nothing. After all, death is also a loss of life for us. And yes, this doesn’t makes us less emotional. We feel and take people’s words just equally carefully as the other sex do. We sometimes just don’t bother to shred off our decency. 

So, yes this is who we are. What we seem to believe in is just a mystery. Like a lake water waiting to meet the sea, similarly we wait and work to keep on going towards what seems legit to us. We can’t stop, we won’t stop. And just to make sure that success comes to us, we keep consistent. And to let you know, the world isn’t a business deal for us, we are open to tear our heart out for those who deserve to hear our story. 

And yes, there are a few Good men who understand atleast themselves….