A perfect living!

Life looked superfluously perfect beyond her blue eyes. However, the blueness was hard to define or specify. It could be the colour of her eyes that made it pretty indeed, or it could be just the blue liner that covered the grayness of the vision- in need. At the end of the day it was so perfect, even the struggle for existence- this while and that- that they seemed to be falling at their respective places designed and defined by plans superficially made. It was only between dusk and the darkness it seemed, that she with her pretentious ignorance would look up at the sky in search of her favourite twilight, and right at that moment would her 'eyes' blue 'eyes' blink a sigh!

The Memory of a Melancholic Morn.

The day wore melancholy since early morn. The way she washed, dressed and looked out of the veranda then caressed the layers of hair that were disturbingly lingering with the breeze above her eyebrows, and then tickling the cheeks, had something melancholic about them too. While arranging the scattered books in hastiness that looked like or rather supposed to be like ‘in a hurried’ gesture, she found a few disowned papers (that had a look of much owned ones, but she knew in the heart they were disowned indeed). So she touched the papers to feel their presence but looked away. The promises were never kept. So there were no reasons to look back. But then someone someday wrote beautiful pieces of poetry with her thoughts engraved in them. She did not feel grief any more, but those disowned poetries in the disowned pieces of papers had something melancholic in them. No one possibly can blame her for feeling melancholy that Monday morn.

H-O-P-E-!-!-!

She felt his eyes on her in the gaps of the moments when she was not staring at him. They both knew they were staring at each other but their eyes never met; or may be they did in the fraction of a second between looking at and looking away. They probably knew that they both knew, but chose to pretend ignorant about the staring business.

allbutlove!

She was pretty. He was successful. They were in love. But they said goodbye!
She had for him a religious kind of respect. He was sincere; but shallow! :P

And You The Clown & I The Fool!

And I the fool or you the clown
We both are but performers.
I fool around;
You make the crowd
Laugh out really-really loud.
We both are efficient in being
Deceptive and pretentious,
With our respective pride and honor.
You make weird faces
Painted in colorful hue -
You hide the heart
Painted by the fate, so blue!
I show them all, how well
I can define stupidity,
And they trust me all
And never do they doubt
The ‘stupid’ heart’s audacity!
They know not how well I know
I find it fun, to never show.
But I the fool and you the clown
Let us perform no more
After sun-down.
Let us put away the make up
Of cosmetic smile.
Let us unmask then tuck our faces
In each other’s heart this while.
But if the clown in you denies
To let it show,
And if the fool’s heart in mine
Denies, to let go-
Let you be the fool
And I be the clown this while.
Let you know it all
In the heart flaunting foolishness;
And I flaunt my tears in smile!

A Smile For You...

No, not the first time
I have felt it before,
The chill in my heart
Of stagnant fear, lonely smile.
No I am not trying to hide my tears,
Tears I know not…
But a sweaty fear
Would often tickle the back of my ear,
Reminding me of the gesture
Of a beloved.
Yesterday when I woke up
In the middle of my sleeplessness
I felt the chill again,
But that didn’t take away the smile
You always wished to see,
That couldn’t make me someone
Other than me.
And thus when the morning showed
I smiled, the smile I flaunt
With all my vacant pride.
But an intense thirst
Suffocates the heart.
How I wish the winter rains would come.
How I wish I don’t have to let in the sun.
My darkened heart just need no rays,
Darkness soothes me, suits me the best.
No, not your fault, but
The fate I accuse.
Feeling complete for a while
Being your muse.
What can I wish for
But a smile to see
In the lips I so wish to kiss,
The poet who gladdened this
Heart trapped in me!!!
It does hurt but little
When I wear on the smile,
Tears I gave away, coz'
A glimpse of it might just
Break your heart this while!

The Anonymous Anticipations of My Heart!

Scribbling down my anonymous anticipations…
A moonless sky, lit up with aching hopes
The alleys of my hopeless heart…a step or two
Would it take to cross the limitless boundaries…
But here I wake up before another midnight could pass,
Into a world where they want me to act like them.

Tomorrow I might just go out for a walk,
Aimless but the streets of remembrance…
Endless but the streets of remembrance…
I wake up from the sleeplessness, that’s
Hugging me as if I am her lost child…
Trust me! Her womb is not the one I remember.
My origin was rather more enthusiastic,
A dancer’s daughter a dancer would be,
They said. The womb I remember was
At-least, not this claustrophobic.
Alas! Do I look like me these days???

Superfluous words won’t make poetry, so the
Simple ones I choose….but hey! I am no poet!
Neither do I intend to create one of me…I am just me!
Tucked in, trapped inside my own anonymous anticipations.