Blindspots

Sometimes there is no plan in place,no goal in sight,
but the journey has to go on.

Sometimes there is no check in place, no one to say right or wrong,
but the job has to be done.

Sometimes there is no outlet to the emotion,no proof of even its existence,
but the shaken heart has to be balmed.

Sometimes there is no shoulder to cry on, no place to hide tears,
but the tides have to be emptied.

Folded page

Life had some moments where heart was in dilemma,

whether to pump-up in rage
or
to skip the beat,

whether to rush through the emotions
or
pause to repeat,

whether to break open the chest
or
bury it deep.



But i decided not to tear the page then,

and orphan the story of an infant emotion.


Just left it blank and folded,

in the arms of unfinished story,

which is still unfolding with every passing heartbeat,

with a hope that ink will mature one day,

just enough to let the folded page bloom into an answer,

heart felt for but couldn't seek.

Heart crawlers

They come out of hiding, 
appear to be abiding,
searching not, but begging for place,
place not in house, but in heart,
they are into impostering like an art,

you avoid them at start,
but end up dealing,
you look for their wounds,
wounds they have decorated,
to catch your attention,
without even a fleeting mention,
in the conversations
which involve your silences
and their stories,
your copy-paste OKs and their overdose of sorries,

you give them place,
a place in your heart,
still confused
whether as a gift of love or a loan of sympathy,

and the problem starts the moment they take it,
they try to make it something of their own,
making you forget the heartbeats you own,
they start coaxing you for more space,
you give them an inch more,
they bargain for square feets,
they nail you on your weak nerves,
even blackmail if it serves.

Sleep

We try to sleep through...

the near misses which were never aimed until the very end,

the frictions which were indulged in to test the blade,

the conversations going in reverse courtesy the motor mouths,

those brainless orders given by the brainwashed,

the never ending race for someone's medal.

Trying so hard is making insomnia more achievable with each passing night..

Hallucinations

As i see the valley tripping from the summit 
i see the pages of life flying in air
flashing my coerced signatures
revealing to skies dreams i was told to copy
to get an A+ in the life's majors

As i see the valley tripping from the summit,
i see moments flashing when i had to submit,
when option to let go was on standby,
everythings turned so blind,
my darkness often probes the fireflies.

As i see the valley tripping from the summit,
fears hold back,
and anxieties lean into the free fall,
wanting me to get closer to the real me,
discover some depth in this shallow sea.

To end the chaos…

I thought …

ripping the watch off the wrist,
would change the times,

sipping dew beneath the mist,
would quench the thirsts,

keeping hands off the thread,
would skip being culprit of the knots,

letting a tear off the eye,
would prevent the bubble bursts,

begetting words through eyes,
would escape the misquotes,

forgetting the ties,
would push the emotions away,

but it didn’t happen…

years were deprived of a minute,
sips weren’t enough to drown the thirst,
knots transpired to cast a web,
a tear moved out stealing all the pearls,
choked words couldn’t reach the eyes,
memories of the left held emotions to ransom,

and
the chaos survived