Search This Blog

Thursday 24 October 2013

Open Letter.

Dear Beloved,
Venus.
It’s been two hibernating season since I left wandering and enjoyed brief moments of excitement which soon faded into a never ending solace. As yet one more time the hibernation period approaches thus somehow nostalgia and nausea both grabs me .You know, they make me do strange and somewhat embarrassing things. Just like the trees which shed their leaves in bitter cold becomes bare but still remains alive I too became bare and experienced misery but remained alive. When the period was over I got busy to find a new skin for me but by the time I completed my search and returned I was told that you also went into hibernation as a remedy. I soon realised that you took a new skin and later it was confirmed by a mysterious whisper which said now you go by a new identity, Venus. It made me leap into a state of shock which resulted into madness and melancholy.

Pardon me for the manner I use to make you aware. Just so you know I hold no bitterness or any sense of prejudiced anger towards you. But being alone and being lonely are two different things. I hate seasons, each and every. When first spring came I started to explore, carrying thoughts of you in the back of my mind. But my paths were mocked by disappointments and illusions. Like a human who goes into hiding when he can’t feel the land beneath his feet’s, I went into hibernation one more time. I returned taking an escape route; this path was not my first preference but somehow at first reluctantly went on. As I found some hope as some creatures expressed to me how smitten they were upon you. I thought I was following the right path till I realised that you will defy any and every attachment. It made me scared and my conscience was shaking mildly. You know, I don’t appreciate gloom but I think it does appreciate me. I am writing mostly about myself but believe me I am very curious to reach you.

I think your identity is acting like a camouflage. Sometimes I wonder as Venus will you be seen someday blossoming during some spring morning. Or as Venus, do you have various forms! But, I blindly believe that every Woman have that ability including you. Did I ever tell you about my secret fetish of smelling your hair in full spirits? Or did I ever talked to you about this girl with incredibly chubby cheeks, she’s an interesting human but sometimes she blabbers about all-sort of topics with a child like curiosity.

As I will start hibernating again, I promise you like a traveller who is very ambitious. I will not let the time collapse..

                                                                                                       Yours,
                                                                                         A trustworthy traveler.

Monday 16 September 2013

Melancholia.

Happiness is not happy,
Happiness is feeling sad.
He don't feels joyous Anymore
It says of things which are of purely hazardous nature
He says he is being engulfed by bittersweet emotions 



His acquaintance asked the fly "What did you see from the wall”?
"I saw him becoming impatient for the first time
As Days went by, Words rarely came out of his mouth
He even started to believe that orders of the events were conspiring against him".  




                          As Only a Fool takes everything that represents beauty for "granted"   

                         And as the madmen would proudly claim To know every of                                                                                      "nature's Oldest Secret's".  

                            "In The same manner Melancholia is bound to happen with
                                  every living body”.

Wednesday 3 April 2013

Freedom In a Crooked Robe .


Choked up faces
Pure Misery.
Or maybe
Actual Bliss;
When Silver moon screws with my thoughts
It’s a joyful nightmare.   
                                                                                   
...............................................                 There was a guy,
                                                              Cheerful and Holding Up bloody ambitions ,
                                                              Those events were nothing remarkable to others

                                                                     But, he found a star.
                                                                  A creature veiled with mysticism 
                                                                  His heart to that soul and back to heart 
                                                                    And a temptation to touch,
                                                                       He was swayed more or less.
                                       
                                       
                                            ..............................................................
                                        She, the star, a creature bounded by boundaries’
                                        Circled by emptiness,
                                        For her freedom was a distant dream, 
                                        A million Year of Desperation. 
         
                                         On one uneven night
                                         A spark was ignited in her eyes
                                         Whether the two drops were tears
                                         Two teardrops, one formed from either eye.
                                         But it was red,
                                         Helpless, lost her immortality.
                                        Death was knocking, freedom was granted.

Wednesday 13 March 2013

Yearn And Aches.

A swan in the lake
The lake is gloomy
The Skies are cloudy
A day even worse than the mid-night.
Someone sing a lullaby.

Sun without sunshine,
Mountains Without Peaks,
Fountains of Saline Water.

I have been awake for days
Days are Nights
Nights are Day
Someone sing lullaby.


Monday 25 February 2013

Gloom of Night.

I tried to dig my nails deep into my forehead.
I slashed some skin but failed to bring effective effects.
Suddenly, a drop poured from my eyes,
Can't actually say what it was.

A teardrop caused by the pain i got from the act,
Or a teardrop caused by the hatred bought by own insecure imaginations.

Yes, I am insecure that is why i still curse Lennon.