Of all the money I saved over the years, Looting the rich and after feeding the poor I bought a piece of land in the countryside To make our new home of love. When you knew of my madness, You shouted, you snubbed. I begged you to join me But you disagreed and mocked my stupidity. I left with a tear. But a hopeless romantic that I am I decided to surprise you. So I began my labour. I waited for you to send me a letter. Like I used to send you when we were young. Nothing came, Neither you, nor the letter. So I kept on for the summer. I stitched each brick with care. I built each wall with emotion. I painted each corner with love. I wrote a letter to you with the address as your name Still you didn't come. I always knew your anger was a typhoon. Cities have been destroyed in it in the past. I waited for you to mellow the chaos. On the day of our anniversary,I came to pick you up But a trauma awaited my knock. You didn't wait for me to go. You left me before I could smile once with you in our paradise. Maybe I should had come to pick you up. You wouldn't had died alone. But they say curses seldom go in vain, No matter who gives them So I sit alone every night with a whiskey and your photo. Singing the same song each time.
Phir le aaya dil majboor, kya keeje Raas na aaya rehna door, kya keeje Dil keh raha usse maqammal kar bhi aao Woh jo adhoori si baat baaki hai Woh jo adhoori si yaad baaki hai.
You are the blessing that I count twice ,the prayers that an atheist prays ,you make me wanna do things that I have never done before ,you define to me what love actually means.
When you sit among the shores with your heart filled with nothing but void you passed among the beats of my heart as wave of self belief.
You are the one people write love poems about , crazy ,smart with a weird sense of humour that never fails to put a smile on my stupid face. It's quite a task finding both a best friend and soulmate in one person. Not for me I already I have mine and none of that will ever fade away.
Sneaking out the schools , Holding hands in the corridors, Stupid selfies in the cafés , And a firm shoulder for always being there. You are all the adventure my life asks for.
You seem to make the word love bring life into me. "We are partners in this , you'll always have my back and I know you'll always have mine" You always said. Partners in happiness and sorrow, always my first call to all the things that life throws me on.
I promise to always love you the same way from my teens to the eighties.
I love you more than the fish in the sea And the stars in the sky. Cheers to all the days we've had and the day we'll have.
(this is just a vague endeavour.) __________________________
the dawn tosses, rises and breaks on a stolen mountain. a golden orb looms betwixt drifting white clouds that break apart in the middle of the sky, a freshly-washed laundry blue; wrinkled along the edges. Autumn caresses broken leaves in his calloused hands, bleached in a dying crimson; butterflies move and dance about in an inebriated air, never ceasing to dance; unsubstantiated colours pouring into the room like amorphous, shapeless thoughts; a loss inherited along with twisted bones and aching joints. The cold breeze swells and raptures; reverberating a clinking melody of battered breath -
But I swear this is not about you.
(how long does a borrowed memory purloin before it becomes your own?)
over the crinkled skin of the cold morning chai, you doned a bitter shade of anguish; uncloaking your misery only in the lingering gaze of another; under the glaring light of obscurity; pale hands falling in a frenzy of incoherence; borrowed breaths descending off my weightless skin. As a sullen June sighed unprecedented; sentences rolled off your barren mouth, vaguely; phrases disintegrating into mere words, scattering around like pomegranate seeds in a humid summer evening, rising higher and higher before breaking down into hushed whispers; on a dried terrain, bereft of moisture.
a gentle touch chiseling away at your resolve, chipping it off at odd edges; eroding the enamel of all essence till nothing remains, nothing subsides. till all you are is a cracked urn, fractured at the very bottom. brimming with an overwhelming emptiness.
(how long do I keep milking a broken reverie till my skin reeks of weariness?)
on a sultry evening of July, you soaked more warmth than the singed fabric of the night; sunlight bathing your hair, ever so gently as I glanced at your rusty-winged quiver of words, flinching at the realisation of failing to bear witness to the ache that fogged all your days; an insipid hue of sepia; a shattered shard of glass piercing through the fragility of a life, half-lived. in the dusky radiance of a September night, you left behind the transient warmth of the air, suffused with a remorseless dissonance.
(how long does a remnant simmer till is it fully baked; forged in the crucible of agony?)
Autumn arrives with a husky voice and little stutter this year, as I weave elegies out of coarse yarn; in yellow, blue and mossgreen; questions thread to the fabric of a night that holds me captive, in its shuddering arms.
I seldom write now. For if I do, they ask me about you; in a futile attempt of feeding a curiosity invoked; all essence dissolves in a shabby sentimentality, a shallow faux, a nervous chuckle, anything that deters, but doesn't answer.
words falling in a frenzy of incoherence, like yours.
I do not write anymore. For if I do, I am a forgotten massacre. A gaping wound, alive and brimming; bleeding across coarse white pages.
For if I do, it reeks of a borrowed memory, a broken reverie, a simmering remnant - a mosaic of a dusky face in half-baked moonlight; perishing away on the altar of conformity. But this-
I swear this is not about you.
Kainat // an ode to your memory // June 22, 2020. ___________________________