Garbage

Garbage. That is the first word that comes to my mind when I take a peek into my brain. I pressurize and try to understand what it is trying to say to me. Because I know, that my brain is shouting out for help, and it’s shouting out loud... then why can’t I hear it?

I hear rumbling sounds, like something is just about to start. Or an idea is surfacing, just there... almost there. But it never comes! I sometimes wonder if it would be possible to open the zipper, jerk my brain out and keep it aside for a moment. The bastard never rests. And it’s time for some rest. It’s tired, I can tell. All those mixed up thoughts and problems are driving it far away from sanity.

Clearly, no one has taken notice of it, as yet. Or no one has taken notice of my ramblings... they’re just as eloquent as those sounds of rumbling in my head. It’s giving me a hard time. It isn’t listening to what I’m saying, and it has blocked all of my requests. It’s angry because it is impossible to articulate its desires and wants for me.

So I sit here, with my eyes open and staring at the ceiling, comparing myself with everyone I know and trying to understand why I stand still, exactly where I was years ago. I do not resist change, change keeps things steady.

Change is an unusual thing that people dread, but I portray it as a lover that I will never satisfy. It doesn’t want to stand near me and hear me rant about how badly I need it. It’s as important to me, as sanity. Both of which are running away in opposite directions, and there is no way in which I can get them both back. No matter where I turn, one of the two will leave me and go away.

So, when I referred to my brain as garbage, it heaved a sigh of relief. I at least began to understand what my brain is going through. It is important for me to unfold the layers of my brain and detangle the curled up issues buried deep inside my mind. I need to find a stance for myself and keep it glued to me.

A firm solution to uncover my brain’s complicated memories and plans, gashes and wounds, is profitable for the soul that sits inside me and wonders if she will ever find out what’s going on in my brain, because me and my soul, both stand clueless.

Butchers

This poem is dedicated to all those who have a dream.

I was six when I first stepped on the stage,
A toy in my hand, and a smile on my face,
Sang it through and through till I got it right,
My own face in the crowd was the only proud sight.

Every song I heard made me sing to its rhyme,
Someday I’d write the song, and it would be my time.
Someday, that stage would be mine,
That crowd would be mine,
The rhyme would be mine,
It would be my time.

When I began with my head held high,
They weren’t fans but butchers sabotaging my mind.
I was building up to my desire,
And reaching higher...

They threw at my face, slaps of reality,
Have you seen your face?
Or the Societal Mentality?
You’re not that lucky, not so fortunate.
They pushed me down, they killed the dream,
But it wasn’t about them, it had to be me.

Eight years passed by,
I’m still sitting here,
listening to a song I like
Don’t do it to yourself,
What I did with my life.

Eight years passed by,
And the butchers strolled by,
They waved at me and threw a cold smile,
“Whatever happened to your dream, honey?
What happened to that toy you carried around?”

“It was just a dream, it drowned.”

Silence : Love how it sounds

Sometimes I just sit and ponder over the meaning of silence. The actual meaning, the one which is far away from the way we like to describe it. For the world, silence is maybe, say, absence of sound, or apparently for the in-depth analyzers, silence occurs when you're alone. I believe that silence is the most gratifying feeling in the world, especially when you're alone at 12 a.m. staring at your computer screen and wondering what the hell is going on in your life. Every thought in your mind is intertwined or unsettled. Silence is when you know... that everything is silent but your mind. Your mind will speak to you the loudest when you're in silence, and the moment you isolate your mind from everything, including those you care about, or those you love, and especially those you hate, you will understand what's missing from your soul. When there are voices around you, they suppress your voice, and make you believe in things you don't want to believe. They bring you into a social, political, intellectual circuit that you do not belong to. Silence, it gives you the right to be yourself. Silence answers every question for you. I won't say it's insanely easy to understand silence, because those thoughts, are full of wilderness, something that your body denies, but your soul allows. So silence begins where voices fade, and voices begin where silence begins.

Lie

Fascinated, those countless thorns she acknowledges,
Each tip is pointy, each one sharp as the piercing sunshine,
Each carved the face of unrelenting words of ‘wisdom’ on her skin,
She could not see, they called her blind,
She could hear, but not listen,
She could speak, but not tell.

Disguising beneath the wise velvet petals they harmlessly,
Bore out fresh platelets of blood off her colourless skin,
And watched her squeeze it out, and set it free.
Watched her set a part of her life... free

They seemed nothing, too minuscule to acknowledge,
Infusing with the water that dropped from her eyes,
It diluted and yet became more morose,
She wiped off the exhausted platelets and her eyes.

The hungry petals absorbed her lustrous blood,
And stared at her face in a beautiful disguise,
She smelled the rose and thanked her God,
For those beautiful roses by her side.

Welcome to the world of Psychedelia

She stared at the ceiling, blankly. A pirouette surrounded her, of thoughts, wishes, desires, cravings and more. It was a new beginning that awaited her in the deserted course towards the end. She was twenty one and had allowed a long hypodermic needle to enter her veins, smelling of vinegar, smelling of the big H thing. The number was deleted from her contacts list. She picked up her phone and concentrated to remember the number. Carefully, with fidgety eyes, she dialed it. No, I don't love you. Stop calling me up, stop wasting your time and mine. He said. She smiled and said that it was okay. She went outside the room where a party awaited her. She laughed, cried, danced, sighed and enjoyed. She was in love with the H thing. No pain, no depression. She had found solace. She came close to me as she saw me snorting coke. "This is baaaaaaaad habit, but go ahead, it feels nice." and she jumped down to sit next to me, chuckling. I said. Welcome to the world of Psychedelia.

Crushed Letter

The wind was silent yet the gushes were strong
they dried away my tears which had been streaming for long
The sun was slowly climbing up, I turned to look in awe
My eyes contracted instigated, though the sunshine was still raw

The night was gone, the silence was dead
i could hear birds chirping from their nest
With your letter crushed in my hand,
I got to my feet.

I spread my arms wide apart, as the gushes greeted
The tears were lost, lips forming a smile
The bruises were healing after quite a while
The pain n hurt were falling away with the night
the love was gone with the appearance of light

The sky was clear, the ocean was blue
I felt amazin even without you
Crushing the letter even more
I threw it to the ocean's core

Ripples disturbed the stable water,
drowning away the crushed letter

With the drowning letter my heart skipped a beat
Dragged me in the past, of which i was freed

The clouds of pain surroundedd me again
as the weather changed pouring heavy rain
Dripping n drenched in water, I began to shiver n cry
I wanted your arms around me, I jsut craved to die
The thunder and lightning were lound n noisy
I shut my eyes tightly, I missed you being beside me

Shattered again, I knelt down n cried,
The pain in my heart was worse than last night,
My face resting in my hand, I howled out loud
But there was no one to hear my shout

The ocean grew restless,
the wind seemingly growled
The icy breeze groaned against me as I howled
I felt a scorpion bite me leg
The sun had gone in neverland
I felt my losing consciousness collapsing in the gravel sand

Love?

I let the cool breeze softly brush past me, I let go of all the miseries with it. My hair danced merrily and my body felt lighter than before. I knew that because the mild wind seemed enough to push me away from the cyclone. I stared into the ocean as it carried away the sediments, erasing all traces of its existence, and I smiled. The Universe harmonized with me, and kept me from falling. I stretched out underneath the stars, and they glittered with my eyes. Life isn’t a piece of cake, and neither is it a tough nut to crack, it comes as you take it. I began counting my blessings, and all in the world was beautiful.
I was all alone, yet the biggest power in the world accompanied me in every walk of life, and from today onwards, life was going to be flawless. As I would walk on the streets, a million heads would turn to look at me, to see the happiness I contain within myself. Every sound to my ear would be music (except Justin Bieber), every season pleasant, and every problem would come with a wonderful solution. My eyes would shine, and light up the dark homes, the touch of my hands would conjure miracles, I would possess the biggest power, and I would possess love, just the way you do, just the way we all do!
The biggest power in the world is love, and love can be exchanged for more love, and proliferate until it’s saturated! I cleared my throat and imagined my voice to be as soothing as the nightingale, and I hummed a classic, and picked up a tiny branch that the ocean had kissed goodbye. I admired the moon’s reflection on the imperfect surface of the ocean, and then I looked back at the moon. The stars twinkled and smiled at me against the charcoal sky, and the incandescent moon seemed as if he was an old man who managed a weak smile every night when he brought his children, the stars, to visit a planet with life. The planet Earth.
Everything that we were programmed to believe wasn’t the truth, it was debauchery! The moon doesn’t actually revolve around the Earth! The stars we stare at every night aren’t possibly dead! They talk to us! They’re really around us, and they exist, and they always will. Life’s what we believe it to be, and not what we’re made to believe.
Think different, think absurd. This is probably your last chance; don’t let others push their beliefs on you.
Don’t let religion take you over.
I bent down and held the tiny branch out, and carved into the wet sand, the words I will always believe in –
Love is the greatest power.
..And I watched those words being washed away with the ocean