I want to make a nest for us, I want to keep you in my blanket and wear your fragrance, I want people to talk to me about you and nothing else, I don't want to discuss work or flowers, I want to talk about how she fills my heart with joy and purpose, how she is so understanding and fun to be with, how I have stood and never looked beyond her shoulders, when her eyes look all pink, I loose my stability, I want them to know how holding you is a treat and I don't get scolded anymore for treating myself. I want them to know that I have slept well and I want to work on Wednesday with calmness and when I don't talk to anyone they should if feeling concerned ask about your well-being and not if I am okay?
I can spend my whole day listening to sitar, read poetry, being utterly sad with Ghazals, I sleep with the sounds of bashing rains when I deliberately need to calm myself.
I bend, break or be malleable to keep others pleased or taken care of, I am not a yes man but it's very hard to say no to someone but I am honest and with that let me write my first letter to you,
with no thought in place as of how many letters will I write to you in your absence, I am sure when you are not here these would be great help, who can speak a thousand words over a phone call?
I think if humans could not speak they would have been great in expressing themselves by writing their emotions out and with that I am here again, writing to you seems like the second best thought I have had this evening after my concerns for you.
I have been told that I catch feelings too quickly and certainly I have not given you any reason to not believe so but that does not mean that my emotions cannot be trusted or my love is just like the month of february.
Catching feelings is such an impressive word if you let your guard down and imagine it happening. Who doesn't love an admirer of warm heart and soft lips or what is it that makes one uncertain about something so ready,
maybe i was waiting for the right person to come along or maybe you did exactly everything that could make me fall in love with you in such a short span of time.
Of Course time would be the judge of my words if all that I say becomes true or not but the assurance of talking about loving you has come from the assertiveness of my intentions or that my heart is in the right place for you. So whatever time will tell, I have said that already.
Seldomly it becomes, we start to understand that there is so much more than what is abstaining us, that time is an abstract idea when longing takes over.
I have been drastically changing since we have spoken, I am always in the haze of love.
The thoughts of meeting you make me nervous, I finally accept that love is intimidating as it's testing my wellbeing and you always prove me wrong by being childish around me. As prepared my promises are I know my heart is firmly stuck on you.
How or why did I fall in love with you so quickly? what will make do for the silliness of finding someone casually and not taking part in their emotions? How will I be not concerned about you and make you feel not being cared after? I cannot seem to understand when would I be, not listening to my emotions? I know no such things, I am just living with admiration for you in my heart.
It's not difficult to understand my behaviour, honestly, I am a docile heart and interestingly calling myself docile makes me prone to suffering in our mindsets. That a docile heart is probable to bear suffering in it's age.
I have developed an awareness that I should be getting less hence whatever I have stumbled upon in my life has felt like a gifted blessing, but that shouldn't be attached with the idea of submission, I took full charge of whatever was showered in my life, to admit, I have been concious about the power in control and privilege. I wish I had understood the relief in acceptance before I exercised the courtesy of apologising.
I honour those who have functioned on a sad heart, the sounding comfort in the arms of people who have been hugging trauma as a way of living with it. I feel bad to admit that comfort makes me think of my mother, alone.
I feel men are uncomfortable. I wish a docile heart in every men. I want them to be grateful not possessive. I want men to notice that there is a choice between decency and dominance. I would somehow easily believe that a single mother can raise a kid better than a male dominated parenting.
The love I was nurtured with was kneaded by a woman who had to request a lot, a woman who had to seek permissions, a woman who was beautifully creative in kitchen but failed to gather her kids together on a single dining table. That dismissing my mother was easy.
I like the idea of befriending a man who names his adopted puppy,Hurt and loves it wholeheartedly. I want to be sharing at a support group. I hope reuniting with my father in a soft future. ~S
I miss you more than I remember you. They say nothing lasts forever, I am writing you in the voice of an endangered species while you are unicorn stomping on my graveyard.
They say nothing lasts forever but I am scared that it always last longer than I can love it. To be or not to be. That is the question. A question, yes, but not a choice. Sometimes you erased me before I was given a choice of stating who I am so as a rule, I miss you.
It's that as long as the world did not see us, its rules did not apply. But I was wrong. The rules, they were already inside us. It's as if a bullet without a body is a song without ears.
What a terrible life, I think now, to have to move so fast just to stay in one place, let me begin again because love, at its best, repeats itself. Shouldn't it or else let me tie my shadow to your feet and call it a friendship.
When can I say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind? Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that I've been ruined.
What if the body, at its best, is only a longing for body? In the dark, our facts lit us up and our acts pinned us down. When under the stars, we see at last what we’ve made of each other in the light of long-dead things—and called it good.
Too much joy, I swear, was lost in our desperation to keep us,somedays our love was writing names on a leash and call you necessary, call you urgent.
This letter is an initiation to extend a hand out for your friendship, A composed self or a formal showcase of warmth as polite as possible. I haven't had the privilege to know you, the stepping stone of my limited presence in your life was at the mercy of the credibility of our mutual friend circle.
My ignorance or makeshift understanding about your mental state is the reasoning I come up with after being a witness to the wavelength of emotions you let out on the Instagram page. The room you lend to indulge in your personal life, the power to comment or be a critic for your art, at the cost of the impact words can cause is always a brave generosity.
Acceptance has trust as it's denominator, allowing a stranger to come in feels natural to both only if it takes a trajectory of a snowball effect.
I think that my social media is my emotional newspaper that I throw at people every day, this letter is also nothing but an account of my present state of mind with the words I have borrowed from my past. I don't shy away from putting it out here with honesty that people have become nothing but casual scrolls.
I read that you haven't been keeping well, that you are a social being and that it's time for you to leave still if someone feels like making an effort to make things better, you would appreciate the try. The "I" in humans makes them blind but the "we" of your friends might have been keeping you sane this long.
I gain no authority over your life by being a constant bystander, ironically if all that a person puts out for everyone to see would have been given in privy to an individual, the responsibility on his or her shoulder would have been the weight of the ladder of priorities. Does a vast projection of one's emotions makes it so easy for everyone to shirk away or do we throw our newspaper towards numb subscribers?
I can be absolutely wrong but definitely an outcome of personal experiences.
I reach out with a caring hand but not a promise as per now about never withdrawing, I have learned that any relationship being built shouldn't have a toll on it, everyone's request is the space to grow, people have learned the ease of breathing with peacefulness under someone else's indulgence.
I come for you cause I decipher a hint of "Fragile content, handle with care"
Perhaps in love we need to be held close and tightly to breathe easily otherwise loose strands usually loose stands. I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back, Oh and the lips, they fall and I am going to need some arms to crawl into, and
If only our lungs knew how not to expand for everything to home inside, our skin would have been withering with the feeling of touching the air above us again as if any exposed cell will breathe this oxygen for us to live.
Insomniac or should I say, in so much ache.
Though I am a warrior yet I am worrying these days cause I trust no rain to understand my pain as drops fall together while I fall alone but,
I have never met anyone so fearless who never struggled to make a leap out of this abysmally spiral staircase that steps down to the treasuries of our feelings that increase in vastness day by day, you are nurturing my pain alongside love, and
While you are reading this and I have my eyes on the same word, we are inhaling in unison, these sentences draped with the blotches of my feelings and left on your wall to be soaked randomly though cursively, we voluntarily breathed this ink down our pharynx and taught our alveolus to be receptive to the blotches left afterwards.
So while I was busy in remembering the easily forgettable things, your soul is a kaleidoscope bursting with every shade and hue, I shift my gaze ever so slightly and you are something entirely new.
You know I see it, no matter how far. The freckles under your eyes are braille in disguise, and the dark shade of your iris is the only colour this blind has ever seen. My fingers can take a stroll on the trail of your cheeks, your mud coloured skin is the cleanest place they have ever been.
There is a sudden impact by the way one meets someone and I don’t know enough about mystical geography to say that unicorns can show this occasional behaviour of socializing in a crowd but sure when I saw her,
she was surrounded by intense artwork and that’s supposedly enough to make her the niche essential for unicorns to feel home or to at least come out in sight, so find her where the wild beings are.
If I knew what she was thinking and I know I can’t reach that far that she let, go of some sparkly smiles far from the madness that falls around me.
So maybe just as being the last unicorn she does not fit in the arms of gracefulness, though clumsy but I’ve never seen free beings sorry for themselves.
I have seen her move through the crowd so softly as if she was given the knowledge of collecting the morning dew before they evaporate, she is young as fireworks cause that’s how long I saw her before she vanished or I got lost with the look of sky in my eyes.
She looked like she has been stuck in a month of Sundays long enough to forget what Monday morning feels like and I’ll wait for her year to end right.
She lives in a love photograph and lets a paperweight to be kept over her, I have seen papers blown away in thrill by the wind and later are found wrinkled, it’s just that she knows chasing setting suns is easier then following a plane catching the dark, so she holds a love so old that sets her in transit against her generation,
she knows where the light switch is and I have never been so lost in the blind dark.
My mother told me colour of hope is always yellow, bright and cheerful. From past 3 years, I gaze at the sunset to find a tiny speckle of yellow in the lilac sky. (I couldn't. I realized I don't like/can't/find yellow anymore.)
He told me colour of intimacy is always yellow. We sleep on our favourite yellow bedsheet every night and the aura of intimacy seems to be fading every time I wash it. (Your hugs have stopped feeling warm now. I don't use those bed covers anymore.)