NOT JUST ANOTHER YEAR

It was the year when things happened. It was the year when everything changed. It was the year when people held him in their arms and he counted their fingers with his miniature fingers. It was the year when his memory became something more than a tool to pass exams, the exams which were nothing more than a signal that another year in the school was going to end. It was the year when he was told that it’s not okay to sleep till late in the morning even on Sundays because doing that would make him an idiot. It was the year when his English tutor stopped teaching him because of some reason he didn’t know, the person who recited poems and quotes with fat and expensive words, and at the end of the class his tutor played mouth organ for him.It was the year when his memories shed away beautiful adjectives and started making new and sad and weird friends. It was the year when he stopped considering god as an option because a person very dear to him almost lost everything and he wished he could burn the clichéd and careless sentences of people, the people who loved to say, ‘it’s god’s will.’ It was the year when being told by his mother that he was the smartest and sweetest boy in the world and she’ll always love him wasn’t enough. It was the year when he realized that understanding the perception of other people was as much as important as understanding his own, and which was incidentally proving to be very challenging.  It was year when he started feeling a sense of fear in speaking what he had in his mind because he realized that not everything should be said, some things are better unspoken even though it would give him sleepless nights. It was the year when he knew that money existed as the strongest force in the world and people adored you or maybe just pretended to hurt themselves and their cheek muscles a bit by making smiling face to greet you if you were rich.It was the year when he read Harry Potter and loved it but couldn’t believe that magic existed and with a sense of victimhood he wished that if he could have read it some years earlier, he would have enjoyed it more. It was the year when he stopped playing his favorite sport because it became a way to make yourself look better than your friends, friends with whom he shared his lunch in school. It was the year when the stars started seeming brighter than the morning sun and he realized that constellations were a product of imaginations of happy people who fail to accept that a star so far away can exist alone. It was the year when he realized that he was growing up and it was okay to feel weird about certain things and eventually a lot of things. It was the year when the dreams he would remember in the morning would fall through derisive cracks of the daylight hours but he would still fabricate plans all night and get ready to render the endless each day and every day.It was the year which was worth skipping and he wished that he had the choice to do so. It was the year when he met her. And it was the year when he lost her. It was the year when he started writing and he started sitting nearby the dewy windows and the layers of the outside world and the pungent confusion of his mind became the ink of his pen. It was the year when things happened. It was the year when everything changed.

NOTHING INTERFERES

I saw you coming through these door-cracks. 

I listened the whispers of your smile.

I painted the way this heart elucidated my fingers. 

You saw my articulation and again smiled. 

That was the day my world changed its shape. 

That day I created my masterpiece.

Then I looked down on the opaque floor, 

I saw our reflections, they overlapped. 

Each morning I woke up with a smile. 

Each day I lived my dream.

But, 

Everything changes and everything changed. 

My shadow burnt and unicorn in disguise. 

Your calm light still rained, 

But seemed insipid without our consent. 

Someone shot the bullet, I saw it coming. 

People laugh and people laughed. 

Fabricated a baseless vision, they said. 

But, I knew it was a test, all I needed was you.

I believed in my love, you kept me strong.

I still close my eyes and I hear your songs.

I always find you close, closer than ever. 

Nothing interferes as we're entrained together.

REMINISCENCE

It was the year 2014 and it rained like Gatsby’s love. Retro, intense, unique and elegant. I’ve witnessed it since the start. I’ve seen your heart painting an involuntary smile on your face when his message came on your phone and I heard that lovely Mockingjay whistle. I’ve seen that eagerness in your eyes and worry in your words when you waited for his reply or call. Lots of days I’ve witnessed your love through the windows of your words and most of them were accompanied with a mild wind of happiness which would wet and blur the windows of sadness all around. You both drenched themselves for days but the rain never stopped. I witnessed it from a distance with an umbrella and smiled in amusement. It makes all the sense now why you people didn’t even need an umbrella back then, you just had each other and each other’s arms. I don’t know and remember much about your first official date but I know it involved few things- two cups of coffee (maybe ice-tea), trembling hands, beating hearts and hesitant words off two hesitant lips. He wanted to remember each moment and you wanted to live every next one with him. Climbing, falling, scared, again falling and again climbing- such were your thoughts and such is your journey. But one thing remained intact throughout- your love and his commitment, your excitement and his calmness, your never ending cheerful talks and his gaze at you in astonishment. You flew together and you've met some hailstorms too, Clouds rained cheerfully very often and sometimes lightening occurred too. But you both flew strong and you’ve defied every doubtful thought. I’m a tiny-little-small bit proud of myself, for all the pushes I gave you to move ahead with him in the start. I did that because I saw you happy in true sense and imagined my own fantasy love story coming true. Today you looks happier than ever and more beautiful than any other day. Both of you are the star-crossed lovers of my life and you’ve  finally ended up together.

SOMEDAY

Someday,

I will build a sweet landscape

And ditch my bitter hallucinations.

Everything I’ll create,

Will be far away from this earth.

I will take your hand and
As soon as we'll depart,

I will call upon some poems.

Not a dozen, just a couple.

One for you and

Another one again for you,

Obviously.

I will pour a million stars,

In a glass of wine,

Brewed with laughter and musings.

I know you will fear,

Some birds will chase us,

And some will chase us for days.

But, I will drive fast.

Maybe I’ll fly in style,

If you’ll help me grow some wings.

And then I’ll speak some more.

If you'll insist,

I’ll try to sing, to make you laugh.

But, I will turn away my face.

And I’ll be laughing the whole time.

I will turn on the TV,

And we’ll watch movies.

Not too many, just one or two.

Your favorites will be my favorites,

Obviously.

Suddenly I’ll be silent

And I’ll look into your eyes,

I’ll search for my face

And I will see your face. 

I’ll love to get lost in them,

But I won't leave you alone.

I know you’ll be there with me,

I’ll be there too.

You and me, dancing.

Beneath your yawning eyelids,

And behind your playful eyebrows.
Everywhere.
In our dreams and in the daylight reality.

If you’ll feel cold,

Or you’d wish to see the earth,

We’ll come back to earth.

We’ll travel together,

Touching the wind

And plucking the yogurt clouds.

Maybe we’ll spend a week

Or the whole winter below.
We will wake up from a good sleep,

The sun will greet us

And it will be our friend again,

Then I’ll craft a boat.

The way you’ll want it to be,

Obviously.

We’ll sail once again.

Back to that landscape,

Or maybe to a new city.

Wherever you’d say,

But far away from this earth,

Someday.

Adarsh can also be found on fossBytes.com

THE PROPOSAL

He whispered, “I love you”

And kept the phone down,

She danced all night, wanting to reciprocate,

It’s been two years, she hasn't heard from him.

Apparently, in his universe, love was just another word.

THE EULOGY

Nearby dewy window, 
He inked a mellifluous letter and plucked some flowers.

She never came, 
But flowers still matched her scarf and 
The letter bloomed as her eulogy.

DATE A GIRL WHO WRITES LETTERS

Date a girl who writes letters. Date a girl who shivers with excitement when she touches a letter. Date a girl who likes simple words, but understands meaning of the hesitant flow of your pen. Date a girl who gets fascinated by the way your fingers hold the pen and the way your fingers had moved on that piece of paper. 

 

Date her because she will write to you. She’ll be the girl who will tell you stories in her letters. Date a girl who writes letters because in her letters she will write poems, poems she never showed to anybody. Date her because she will also love lo listen to your stories. The girl who writes letters will leave everything behind and would listen to you. Tell her your problems, cry on her shoulder and eventually you will be fine. The girl who writes letters will know what to say when you’ll be low. You’ll soon realize that she is not an ordinary girl.

Date a girl who writes letters because she will listen to old classic songs with you on repeat till she meets herself living the song. Date her because she will cry during the movies with you. Date her because her favorite movie will be Forrest Gump. 

Date her because she will be with you even when she won’t be around. At night she will be with you, beneath your pillows, her letters will breathe life in you. That precious paper will keep you warm. You will have her picture in your phone or wallet, but you will always come back to her letters. While reading her letters, you will listen her voice. After some lines, she’ll laugh and in some lines she won’t say much. You will soon find out that she writes you from her heart.

Date her because when you’ll read her letters, she’ll be by your side. Her letters will tell you what dress she was wearing. Her letters will tell what she smelled like, what song she was listening, what was the color of her nail paint and what was she sipping while writing that letter.

On Sunday mornings turn off all alarms. Don’t wake her up. Make breakfast for her, include all those things she likes. With a tray full of love wake her up and look into her sleepy eyes. Capture her smile in your heart because it will the most precious smile.

Date a girl who writes letters to you. She will be the one who will have no hesitation in telling you what she would feel about anything. She will tell you about the things she would like about you as well as the things she won’t. She will tell you about your thin beard she likes and she will also tell you about your habit of rubbing your eyes which she hates. 

She’ll be like a book and some days she will be like a poem. When you’ll meet that girl, you’ll know what it is to know somebody. She will have envelopes and stamps of a thousand colors and she will send love in them. Her writing table will be all messed up but she will keep letters with ultimate care. And on some beautiful days she will forget to eat and drink, and will wait for your letter. 

Write small-small notes for her when she is around. Leave it at her table, hide them in her bag, keep them in her favorite books. And, you yourself hide behind the doors or curtains and watch her as she reads them and fall in love with her even more. Tell her about the first time you saw her, tell her about some surprise plan or tell her about her beautiful chin. Send her long texts when she is asleep at night and tell her I love you in different languages.

Date a girl who writes letters. Gift her books because such a girl will be madly in love with them. Books will make her love you even more. Stalk her on facebook or her Pinterest account and find out the writers or poets she likes. Give her Bronte, give her Dickens, give her Keats. Write poems for her. If you can’t write one, then make one up with no sense. She’ll love those ones too. 

Date that girl because she will be beautiful from the inside. She will know the meaning of love and will teach you more about it. Date her because she will be passionate about the things she loves. She will know on her own how much you love her but don’t take it for granted. Tell her each day how much you love her and make her realize that you’re the luckiest person in the world.

Some days she will write letters to herself. Those will be the days when she’ll be confused. When you see folds of skin on her forehead and a tensed smile, talk to her, hold her hands. Some days she won’t tell you what’s bothering her. But don’t leave her alone. Be with her. Sit beside her. After sometimes she’ll tell you what’s in her mind. Comfort her, make her feel appreciated, love her more.

Marry a girl who writes letters. Marry that girl because she’ll know that life is a beautiful song and she’ll lend her words to you and she’ll sing it with you. Marry that girl because just like a letter you’ll always find home. And instead of waiting for you, she will be with you on those roads. 

Don’t let such girl go because you won’t be able to forget her. Write a letter to a girl if she writes letters. Write her one as soon as you can.

Good Luck :)

Adarsh can also be found on fossBytes.com