A Vintage Print

I hold wild secrets in my heart. Secrets that don't have anything to do with me but affect me anyway.  I don't tell anyone about them. I can't. They're scary and too volatile for me to put them out in the open.  I hold secrets that don't mean anything anymore. Because it's over. The night's gone and the storm passed. The clouds cleared but my mind hasn't yet.  I hold them close to me and I wished I could let go. They hurt too much from being held so tightly.  They pierce at my heart when I hug them tightly. There's no other way. They need to be with me. They can't leave me. I can't leave them.  They'll forever haunt me and I shall succumb one day to the irreparable scar they give me.  I shall walk with a bleeding heart and it will still beat with as much life as it had when I was born.  One secret doesn't hold me back. But on some days, it's all I can think about.

You look beautiful tonight.  There's no way of knowing if you'll be here tomorrow. Or if there is a tomorrow to hope for. But I do hope to see you. Even if in my memories. Or my dreams. Or on a fleeting Sunday in some clouds that refuse to leave the sky. Or in just a handful of pictures that you forgot to take with you.  I just want to see you once more. You look beautiful tonight. And there isn't one thing I'd change about you here and now because I see all the experiences you've had.  I know why you are how you are and I love all of it. I'm at peace with you and with the world.  For a long time, I had forgotten what peace meant but tonight, as I look at you, I know.  The sky picks out colours just for you tonight.  I know you see these colours and wonder how vast they must be in some place away from here. How they spread out over thousands of people to mean thousands of things.  It doesn't matter.  You're here now.  This is life.  And ...

I am going to bleed on paper today, Don't worry you won't see any red stains. I am going to weep today, Yet you won't see a teardrop falling from my eye.  I guess this is what happens when your heart bleeds and your soul cries. No one can see it or feel it,but you. You feel this emptiness around, Like a helium balloon left in the sky. You don't know where to go. The ground abandoned you,  And you know you will never find a home in the sky. So you fly,fly and fly. Hoping soon someone will catch you and save you, But to be honest,how often does it happen. There are times when I think what would I be I hadn't met you, A lot less me and a lot less scarred, But I don't regret meeting you,not even for a moment. I guess my scars are a tapestry, An art depicting heartbreak. An art depicting survival. I often pour ink on paper, And I wonder do you also see it like an ocean of emotions? Do you know there's no shore to this ocean?  It's never ending. Maybe at some ...

  We met as strangers; a heady combination of yours  lavender against mine woody aftershave. A secret glance, when you thought I was not looking. An amused smile. We were opposites, poles apart from each other. And maybe, that was what drew us together.  I was a writer, books were my entire life. But you, on the other hand, didn't even glance at a book unless it included love story or fantacy book. Never had I dreamt in a million years that I would find myself besotted with someone like you. Six months was all that we got to know about each other. Yet, it felt like six years, the end of which I knew right away that you were the One.  Years have passed, at times I've felt that I know you like the back of my hand. But there are days when you remain a mystery, eluding me like a stranger. There had been a lot who had thought that it would never work out between the both of us. That there was no way on earth that we could exist together.  But with each passing day, w...

Thodi si meethi, thodi si kadak,⁣ Thoda sa doodh, aur thodi si hi patti chai ki,⁣ Acha thodi aur,⁣ Itna ki colour aa jaye,⁣ Colour Bhala kyu?⁣ Bas man hai,⁣ Chai agar chai hi na lage toh bhala swaad kaisa.⁣ ⁣ Thoda adarak, thodi Tulsi,⁣ Acha tulsi jaane do,⁣ Arey ruko, adarak abhi nahi, baad mein,⁣ Khaulne do thoda pehle use,⁣ Doodh phat jayega,⁣ Thoda vakt do,⁣ Thoda sa sabr, bas thoda hi,⁣ Dekho kahin meetha zyaada toh nahi.⁣ ⁣ Thoda vakt do,⁣ Samjho vakt ki bhi ahmiyat ko,⁣ Thoda ruko, pucho kise kise peena hai aakhir,⁣ Dhoondho cups ko,⁣ Ek cup, do cup, teen cup, chaar,⁣ Ho gaya, ab gas se hata lo,⁣ Stove pe toh banaye ho na kabhi tum,⁣ Chalo koi nahi, vakt hai abhi,⁣ Aakhir banaye ho hi kitni baar.⁣ ⁣ Acha chodo,⁣ Baatein Baad mein,⁣ Jaane do ab,⁣ Dekho chai dhaal toh loge na?⁣ Giraoge toh nahi?⁣ Dekhna chai Patti na aa jaye,⁣ Thodi kadvi si hoti hai,⁣ Chalo koi nahi,⁣ Dekh lenge.⁣ ⁣ Acha suno,⁣ Kitne cup huye?⁣ Agar pyaar hi baant rahe ho,⁣ Toh ek cup idhar bhi,⁣ Bolo, pilaoge n...

It is always easier to break something down, than to put it back together. It's the mending that takes effort. So it's easier, you see, for me to keep breaking my sentences into smaller ones. With little breaks, punctuated by commas and periods. It's easier this way to break it down into pointers, than to have myself confused with lengthy paragraphs. I don't do well with consistency. I often lose my train of thought, the rails slip, and my sentences fall over. Hollow, devoid of any real meaning. I could act smug, and tell you, how it's open to interpretation, maybe if I do it well, I might even be able to hide it. The lingering emptiness behind the false facadé, that is the english language. Notice how my paragraphs are getting longer, it's no longer fitting for me to continue. I might just lose it any minute now. My fleeting chain of thought, but I said train, words, you see. They are so damn replaceable. All my works are incomplete. I have never known how to....

Of course,⁣ there are days when I wish to have learnt another language.⁣ Besides the mothertongue, the coloniser's gift.⁣ To have more words to say is to have more to choose from.⁣ To express what one feels.⁣ For often 26 alphabets run short.⁣ ⁣ "My consonants hate my vowels".⁣ ⁣ What on earth would that even mean, you think,⁣ but you get it, you get the gist, think harder.⁣ So yes, there are those days, when I wish still.⁣ Another language, another tongue.⁣ Same words though.⁣ Truth is, I don't always know what to wish for,⁣ If only.⁣ So wait a little more,⁣ Read another book, another poem,⁣ It's the same words, you see,⁣ Same letters.⁣ ⁣ "How does your tea taste now?" (without me) ⁣ I'm looking for a language without a tongue,⁣ I don't yet know the difference.