I have an excuse

​Change; necessary, inescapable,
all bound to suffer its wrath
stay stagnant or fly,
somehow make it bearable,
the aftermath.

Defer the pain
and cocoon,
tell myself
It will be done soon
or break the shackles and fly,
they say, try!

Faced with dilemma,
what to choose,
Should I drop my fears and walk
or just come up with some excuse?


I lend you my hope

I closed my heart
Long ago
To never feel a thing
Encased, caged it
To escape
Impetuous suffering.

And whilst the good days lasted
I had already let the hope wander far
Only to realize
That if only I had kept the door ajar
Would light seek in
Where there was misery
The door to my happiness
Could only be unlocked with the key
That I held in my own hands.

Only that
I was too afraid to fly
In fear of being broken
I let my days be wry
The good days slipped by.

And when I did try
To open the door
The light was gone
It was there no more.

And yet while my own light
Failed to shine
There was an unknown one
Not mine
That dispelled the darkness
And planted a hope
That let me survive
Helped me cope.

And the good days again came by
My door no longer bolted
My dreams did fly
And of all the tragedies I lived through
There was one thing to stick to
A hope
That didn’t die.

And oh what a tragedy it will be
To not lend the hope
That was once
Lent to me.

Everything wrong with a good book

I am not an avid reader which basically means a book can engross me only if the plot is good, the writer leaves the gap which reader fills with his own thoughts and so he doesn’t explicitly lays down his own thinking, forcing it on the readers. That’s what a good book is.

What wrong can go with a good book that has a good plot and is totally drool worthy? Well, not every reader gets excited on looking at a book that is so thick that he can’t even easily hold it in his hands, let alone, reading it in a single go. That’s what happened today. I went out with a purpose to buy a book and on looking at the thickness and also the small font, I felt a little disappointed. I had exactly that amount which was needed for the book so that basically shows that my only intent behind leaving the comfort of my quilt was buying that particular book. *Sigh*

But did I buy it? No.
Why not? Well, apart from the few disappointments the book offered me, the seller added to it by not being able to keep the book in a proper shape. I would definitely prefer ordering a book online because I know at least it will be worth the money. For a 3-4% discount, I would never compromise on the quality of a book that will stay with me, maybe for my entire life. I now know why bookshops are dying and ​online sellers are dominating the market. Or I guess it is vice versa. Apparently the online booksellers overtook the market and killed the existence of the small bookshops that were my place of solace for a very long time. The bookshops are dying and maybe there will come a day when I will go out and there will only be the big bookshops that might survive the battle with the online sellers and I will miss the peace my small bookshop gave me. I already miss it.

Many people ask me, “Why don’t you read an e-book?” I really cannot answer that question. For a person like me, technology must be there so long as it serves its basic purpose and that alone will suffice. I don’t want it to creep into my hobbies and take away the pleasure that a paperback or a hardcover will give me. Never.

What can go wrong with a good book? Apparently, a lot.

Whatever it is you are seeking

And I let myself
be drawn by the strange pull
of what I loved
keeping the faith
that it won’t lead me astray
that even if there was a detour
I will find the way
and I walked
seeking solace
and anything that will suffice
while my faith flickered
knowing that the hopes die
And while I walked
with the hope flickering
I looked back, connected the dots
finally knowing
whatever it is
that I was seeking
didn’t come in the form
I was expecting
and that was the best part
of my story.

Love must not sublime

And though we all hold
Fragments of our past,
Hurt stays,
It even lasts.
We make beginnings with
Trace of our endings,
Careful and more cautious
This time,
But in the process,
The love sublimes.
And we are left with nothing
But impressions of the lost moments,
Which we fear
To even experience again,
But then someone comes along,
Reaching us,
So we are no longer the same.
And we fall, more intensely,
More hopeful this time
And we try to make sure
In our fear of not falling apart,
At least the love doesn’t sublime.

Endings.. Beginnings

In ups and downs,
the year rolled by,
in being afraid to take a step forward
or saying a hi.
In the roller coaster ride
of commutes,
having a job
and the resignation blues.
And while the endings are usually sad
there is no better ending
than the ending of a year
that marks a beginning
of a whole new chapter;
a lovely new chapter.