Calender read Oct 19, 2021.
Watch read 19.46.
But i was sipping cola from college canteen in 2009,
and worrying about the appraisal of March 2022.
All these while chipping the overgrown nail of index finger and waiting for 19.50 local train.
It felt as if the urge to escape from routine present made me a drama writer, who is simultaneously working on two stories. Both would not end in mind, but screenplay born out of overthinking would be potent enough to numb the present. Adding more air to the bubble of past and sucking every drop of hope that future could hold onto seems to be an art human has mastered while going through evolutionary process.
Or maybe mind wanted a high without consuming any substance. So mind began creating a cocktail of timelines.This episode made me ask a few questions to self.
Am i living my life?
Am just busy hijacking the moment with memories and imaginations?
Do we spend most of our times thinking about life, trying to predict outcomes, making ourselves believe that good is already gone and there is no chance it can recur ?
Do we subconsciously prevent ourselves from experiencing something new or unknown?
I am sure this has happened with many of you and many times. It is still happening without you even realising it.
The drama won't end easily. But being aware of the drama may always help.
Whish happy moments could be xeroxed and relived . There would be no need to rush to consume things, seek namesake companies, appreciate imposters.
Kya suraj dhalne par shaam hui
shaam hamesha se thi, bas suraj ki chakaachaundh ko humne apna din bana liya tha
Blood drips from the wound as if pain crying in relief
out to find their meaning
growing thirsty for ink to meet their full stops
Not all the buds cuddled by breeze,
warmed up to the sun.
Otherwise butterflies and bouquets would have more stories to tell.
khwabo ki woh kadi,
jo le chale hume,
us sire tak,
sach hoti zindagi,
jhoothi naa lage,
khushi mere haathon ko achhuti naa lage,
palon ki woh ladi,
jo haseen waqt ki,
saans deti rahe,
bheetar samaye andhero ko
asmaan se churakar,
zara si chaandi,
raat deti rahe…
not a home but momentary,
a traveller, a life leveller,
changing bus, changing seats,
always with you,
but not the same,
coming and leaving often,
as you struggle to give a name.
Feels like day has ended with the sunset of overthinking,
fear of dark heals what daylights were bringing.
Silence hides here often,
bias of colour disappears.
Wounds come out of hiding,
with no eyes chasing to pierce.
Scars ache less as mirrors lose the game,
pages written or blank read the same.
Noises make you think,
reality and dream become inseparable by a blink.
When succumbing to a corner becomes a choice over being on the roam,
that is the moment darkness feels home..
Everyone wants to be white,
many are perceived as black,
most end up being grey,
and there are few who exist but don't matter to anyone,
that's the shade of indifference