Somewhere,
all writers wish for an empty mind,
some old brandy and a silent incomplete
prose,
to sleep on.
-Ananya
tengoku
you can come and cry in here. it's still quite dark but peaceful.
-
tengoku 3d
-
tengoku 1w
हमारा अथेइस्ट होना उसे रत्ती भर भी नहीं भाता था। इसी वजह से हर मंगलवार ज़बरदस्ती हाथ खींचकर मंदिर को ले जाया करती थी हमें। हम भी मुंह बिचकाकर चल देते थे।
'ओफ्फो! जाना ज़रूरी है क्या?'
'जी। बिल्कुल ज़रूरी है।'
'पर क्यूं? प्रिया को देखो सिनेमा देखने जाती है राहुल के साथ। और एक तुम हो!'
'हम प्रिया नहीं। और नाही आप राहुल।'
'धत्त।'
स्कूटी की सीट खोलकर पहले तो अपना हेलमेट हमें पहनाती और फिर गंभीरता से समझाती,
'ध्यान से बैठिएगा।'
हम भी उसे इतना ही कसकर पकड़कर बैठते थे जितना उसकी स्पीडोमीटर की सुई 20 को।मंदिर के बाहर भीड़ देखते ही, हमारा बायां हाथ अपने दोनों हाथों से कसकर पकड़ लिया करती थी। और हमें कहती
'हाथ मत छोड़िएगा। कहीं खो मत जाइएगा।'
आदत थी उसकी, पहले तो फूलवाले से दो रुपए का डिस्काउंट लेने पर पूरे रस्ते इतराती।
'देखिए, ऐसे खरीदारी होती है।'
'अच्छा जी।' हमसे हसीं ना रुक पाई।
'हंसने की क्या बात है इसमें भला? इन लोगों से थोड़ा बहस ना करो तो लूट ही लेंगे! आपको कुछ नहीं पता।'
'हां बाबा। ठीक कहती हो तुम।'
'हुंफ़!' और हमारे हंसने पर चिढ़ जाया करती थी।
उसके हाथ जोड़ते और आंखें बंद करते ही, हम एकटक उसे देखने लगते। ना जाने वह क्या मांगती थी इतना लीन होकर। बीच बीच में कुछ बुदबुदाती, फिर चुप हो जाती। हम भी उसके आंखें खोलने से पहले, झट से आंखें बंद कर लेते।
'क्या मांगा?' आंखें खोलते ही हमसे पूछा।
'उम्म.. हम क्यूं बताएं?'
'बताइए ना!'
'लै? दुआ को ही बता दें क्या दुआ मांगी?'
ये सुनते ही लजा के मुस्कुरा दिया उसने।
मंदिर के बाहर पानी का एक कुण्ड था। थोड़ी देर दोनों वहां बैठा करते थे। हमारे लिए ये पल सबसे हसीन होता था।
इतने में उसने धीरे से हमारी दाई कलाई अपने हाथ में ली और लाल धागा बांध दिया।
'अब ये किस लिए?'
'अब हम हर वक़्त तो होंगे नहीं आपके पास, तो ये धागा होगा। मान लीजिए हम ही हैं। हां ये ठीक है। हर वक़्त आपके साथ।'
'तुम ना, थोड़ा सिनेमा कम देखा करो। पागल कहीं की।' ये कहकर हम हंस दिए।
'हां ठीक है। हुंफ़!'
अंत में घर जाते वक़्त दोनों ने दस का गोलगप्पा खाया। नहीं नहीं! हमारे दस के गोलगप्पे में से पांच का तो वह ही खा गई थी। हमारी स्पीड उसके जितनी नहीं थी ना।
खैर, आज भी मंगलवार है। बैठे हैं मंदिर के बाहर। कुण्ड के पास। अकेले, उसके बिना।
हर हफ़्ते आते अब। आदत जो हो गई है अब।
हां अथेइस्त तो अभी भी हैं। फर्क बस इतना होता है कि अब, दुआ मांग लिया करते हैं, अपनी दुआ के लिए।
और हां, वो लाल धागा थोड़ा कमज़ोर हो गया,
ना जाने कब टूट जाए,
हमारी आस की तरह।
हां पर है बंधा अभी भी,
हमारी आस की तरह।
-अनन्या -
tengoku 1w
He sang nothing,
but stories of my scars.
I kissed nothing,
but his soul and his heart.
-Ananya -
tengoku 2w
"sometimes you've to be scattered"
smiled a broken.
"to become the brightest constellation in the sky"
-Ananya -
प्रेम कभी मरता नहीं। कभी नहीं। बस कभी कभी, समय के साथ साथ महीन हो जाता है। हवा सा महीन। फरवरी की ठंड सा महीन। इतना महीन के शायद प्रेम में पड़े किसी एक साथी को ही इसका एहसास होना बंद हो जाता है। एक साथी, प्रेम के महीन और पुराने होने से संतुष्ट होता है वहीं दूसरे को उसके दिखाई ना देने की घबराहट होती है। यही घबराहट कुछ समय बाद, कब उसे प्रेम के ना होने का विश्वास दिला देती है, कुछ पता ही नहीं चलता।
तुम्हारी घबराहट साफ दिखाई दी थी हमें। फिर एक दिन एकदम से सब कुछ शांत हो गया था। ऐसा लगा था जैसे तुम्हारी सारी बेचैनी हमने खुद में ले ली हो। हमेशा के लिए।
खैर,
लोगों की कुछ यादें काफी ज़िद्दी होती हैं। प्रेम के महीन होने के बाद भी, सालों तक, कहीं किसी कोने में छिपी रहती हैं। शायद प्रेम में बचे अकेले साथी को, प्रेम के अधूरे और जीवित होने का एहसास दिलाने के लिए।
जैसे देखो, आज भी हमारी कुल्फी की लास्ट बाइट का आधा हिस्सा तुम्हारा ही होगा। हालांकि हमने तुम्हारे जाने के बाद से खाई नहीं। शायद खाए भी ना कभी। पर फिर भी।
तुम्हारे नाम की रातें अब खुदके साथ बितानी काफी मुश्किल लगती हैं। फिर भी, आज भी हम पूरा दिन इंतज़ार करते हैैं, इन रातों का। बस फर्क सिर्फ इतना होता है कि इंतज़ार तुम्हारे साथ समय बिताने के बजाय तुम्हे याद करने का होता है।
"मन करता है तुम्हारे पास आऊं।"
तुमने उस रात फोन पर कहा था। कौनसी रात थी? देखो अब हमें कुछ याद भी नहीं रहता।
"फिर?"
"और पास आऊं।"
"फिर!?"
"और पास।"
"आगे?"
"और फिर तुम्हारी आंखों में.."
"हां?"
"..संतरे का छिलका निचोड़कर भाग जाऊं।"
"पागल कहीं के।"
ना जाने कब तक हम दोनों साथ में हंसे थे उस रात।
आज भी वो रातें याद कर हंसी आती है। फर्क बस इतना होता है कि, आंखों में नमी और तुम्हारा पास ना होना, साथ रहता है।
अच्छा सुनो ना,
तुम्हारी यादें अब कुछ कुछ स्याही सी महकने लगीं हैं। कभी फुर्सत हो तो आके पढ़ जाना। क्या पता महीन प्रेम के होने का एहसास हो जाए।
क्या पता।
-अनन्या -
tengoku 2w
She isn't just a girl.
She is the most alluring war you will
never know about,
because she is dug deep beneath
a mesmerising smile,
smelling like a warm cup of coffee,
your favourite old torn novel,
a cozy corner of balcony and
a rainy afternoon.
-Ananya -
tengoku 2w
I was a huddle of cursed words,
on the torn piece of sin.
You chanted me like a holy prayer,
slowly slowly in tiny bits.
-Ananya -
tengoku 3w
He is that kind of song,
you listen to cry all night.
-Ananya -
I aspire to be
a human
I inhale and the war of suffering begins
since the very first day when I opened my eyes.
I'm an unknown to this huge world of grief and joy,
not familiar with plots and tricks to live the life.
Carelessly resting in the lap of sleep,
crawling with dreams of flying in the sky.
I giggle, I cry without hiding my real face,
I weave fate in hands, draw my own lines.
While living between fantasies and lies,
soon I got acquainted with sorrow and pain.
Enthusiasm of change stuffed my bones but
burden bent my spine, blames dried my veins.
Then I entered in the ripening age of body,
where I learnt falling in love with falling apart.
I learnt hiding teary eyes beneath smiling faces,
and leaving people, home like shooting stars.
I welcome ageing with my open arms,
I love my grey and wrinkles more than anyone.
I do not wish anything except living till I stop breathing,
I only aspire to inhale and die as a soulful human.
But sometimes I lose faith in humanity,
when I see people going hard on their own souls,
after getting tired of things dragging them down.
How can you hurt someone living inside your bones?
-Ananya -
tengoku 4w
I think of giving up writing a million of times,
but then realise that I'm still afraid of losing you.
-Ananya
-
starrdust 3d
On days like these, when I'm filled with dusty memories and my muscles are tense to the core,
I cleanse myself under a hot shower, not warm and cozy,but hot and burning
for I believe
my skin shouldn't be cold even if my heart is.
On days like these, when the creases on my forehead increase manyfolds,
I let water drip onto my forehead, over my closed eyelids , kissing my lips until I run out of water
for I believe
the frown on my face must settle even if the chaos in my mind doesn't.
On days like these , when I smell of misery ,
I apply some cologne , not a little more, just enough , for myself to dwell in
for I believe
my senses should feel good even if I don't.
On days like these, when I feel tied with a rope of expectations and tired to work,
I detangle my hair and comb them into a braid
for I believe
I should look sorted even if my thoughts are tangled into knots.
On days like these, when I try to feel the way I should,
I believe
if I keep pretending well,
one day, I may as well would.
-starrdust.
-
dusky_dawn 3d
I wasn't dead before.
But I wasn't alive either.
I used to hide hickeys
Under the collar of your tee's
I used to hide the molested moles
Under my naive heels.
I wasn't a good human
But I wasn't a devil either.
I used to feed kindness
To the hungry souls.
I used to leave the pain
Tucked in between the pillows.
I wasn't a warrior
But I wasn't a loser either.
I fight with nightmares
I win by the end of the night.
And somedays. Some nights
I lose and then bury myself
In the ruthlessness of the bed
A little deeper everytime.
Every single time.
©dusky_dawn -
daphnae 3d
©daphnae
#headline #wod
Thank you @writersnetwork (15)
And @mirakee for the POD (4).
-
jazzyrampras 4d
Nothing makes me more happy
when someone turns satvic, not necessarily vegan
when someone starts reading books.
(While the former makes your body/soul alive,
the latter makes your mind alive) -
jazzyrampras 4d
Both a refugee and a global citizen
When I step into a bookstore,
two emotions gush through my veins:
I am a universal citizen who can walk
into any mind without any visa AND
I am a refugee running away from
boredom to seek a shelter
in my favourite stranger's mind. -
wallfl0wer 9w
read this slowwwwly.
ps: an outcome of failed dark writeup and my constant mood of 'yrrr mujhe ghumne jana hai'.
and im done for this year.cast-a-way
abandoning,
habitual walls and dome,
complaining,
wrecked roofs and monochrome,
hoping,
to find familiarity,in places unknown,
i have been,
wandering,
far across from home.
i saw,
walls,
offenders staining them,
with striking grafitti,
and ones that display neon signs,
screaming 'cheapest booze in city'.
walls that echoed angelic hymns,
and ones that bottle up sins full upto brims.
walls that sing of doom's grandeur
and ones that cage evils and wrong-doers.
walls where new lives were birthed,
and walls that were burned,
along with humans,on grounds of revenge.
i saw,
roads,
that lead to highways,
and to places claimed as heaven's stairways.
roads that diverged in two,
and ones that converged travellers,
to savour good ol' home brew.
roads that were shunned in silence,
and ones where people marched,
against violence.
roads that promise a great future,
and ones haunted with grey pasts.
i saw
strangers,
exchanging postcards,
and psychedelics licitly barred,
strangers stealing kisses,
behind breath-fogged windows,
tasting lover's blisses,
and strangers stealing riches,
thanking luck for every bullet he misses.
strangers distributing free food,
and some hogging more than,
it could be chewed.
children,
dressed in uniforms,
who walked to school with frown,
and ones dressed in worn out gowns,
who walked to workplace, missing fun of playgrounds.
nomads,
who made catchy tunes,
lyrics that glorified fortunes,
gloom of detachment,
analogizing lovers to stars and moon,
and asking fellow wanderers,
to join them in their songs,
in chilly afternoons.
i saw,
castaways,
wishing to go back, to their homes,
back to habitual monochrome,and domes,
and wanderers,
like me running,
away from home,
to find grounds,
that abide no contrast,
of everything moral,
to find grounds,
where peace,kindness and love everlast.
©wallfl0wer -
मैं अनसुनी सी धुन कोई
तू भैरवी का राग है
मैं झिलमिलाती लौ कोई
तू जगमगाता चिराग है ।
मैं चिलचिलाती धूप कोई
तू शीत का वो चांद है
मेरा प्रकाश भी कुछ चंद का
तेरे तो दाग भी आबाद हैं ।
मैं मुरझाई सी कली कोई
जिसे सींचता तेरा प्यार है
मेरा सूरजमुखी भी नाकाम सा
तेरा गुलाब कांटों में भी ख्याति प्राप्त है ।
मैं सहमी सी हंसी कोई
तू अश्रु बन कर भी बलवान है ।
मेरे शब्द जैसे मृत छंद कोई
तेरा मौन भी कविता का भाग है ।
©soulvish -
raika_ 4d
(*inspiration*
a conversation with one of my closest friends at 8:39-8:40 pm
sangfroid: so writing isn't helping you
raika: I think so too
sangfroid: but you are a writer
raika: I have nothing else)
#Headline: 'The writer was found dead by the sea, near the grave of his first poem, with a letter in his hand.'
@sangfroid_soul @allbymyselfA homeless writer
When words betray a writer
he runs around the globe
scratching his brain
waiting for letters to resurface
but when he reaches the shore
he only sees dead words
stuck on a crab's claw
and all the oysters in the sand
are empty like his page
so he sits under a cliff
and drowns into oblivion
because that is what a writer does
when words were all he had,
and they betrayed him
so he circles barefoot,
questioning things no one dares to
and waits till he explodes
into clouds of chaos
that rain once every decade
and when they do-
earth reeks of
sadness, despair and malice
//remember him everytime you
write about love and pain
in a single poem //
-raika -
jiniaa 1w
It's so beautiful, the way you can infuse the fuschia coloured sky to my laughter and make it glow like a lamp ignited by amber bells. It's so breathtaking, the way you pluck my tears into your fingertips and turn them into pearls laying on a sea bed ; you. It's so magical, the way I don't need to think twice before taking off the heavy cloak of pretence and sit cross legged on your lap, naked and bare, deluded of reality. It's so peaceful, the way your voice makes its way to my ears even after being miles apart, even after having thousand of reasons to not listen to you, to not finding a rhapsody in your murmurs. It's so surreal, the way I have become capable of loving another being as though I have emerged from his being, as though we are connected by a thread that doesn't break, that ties me to my roots, that gives me an existence. It's unbelievable, the way I look at you like the stars draping a blanket around the northern lights. It's so unearthly, the way a human body became a temple to me, a person became a place of worship, a smile became the reason I breathe.
©Jinia
Song for the day - The Way I Love You (Yaeow, Neptune). thank me later..
-
Coming of age
What i feel
I demonstrate.
What i demonstrate
Bothers me
For not getting back.
For not knowing
That other person also felt
The same
And it's in
From so much surrender
Without being sure
The reciprocity
That we start empting
And gradually freeze
Into hollow ice.
We then start to believe
What we demonstrate
Is the weakness
And not the sign
Of sedated ink.
And then we caught ourselves closed
And scared with no courage to say what we feel.
And the next person ends up
Suffering this consequence of pain.
Results in huge
Snow ball that keeps loading
One by one.
Someone will
freeze down the person
Who emptied me.
And i will freeze down
Someone else
And in days
What you got is
Surrounding of same
Disability.
We don't believe in zombies
But if we pay attention
We are not
Whole soul
Either.
-ru
