Categories
poetry

A City of heartbreaks

My being is hanging out with the thought of being myself at almost all the times and the urge to be anything but me.Thought is an act of violence. The urge to be somethingbut me, is the violence against what I am. The urge  to be nowhere but near you.

Is it possible for a person to be envious of a place?

To be honest I’m tired of writing about you, tired of writing about writing about you. Whenever I am about to ditch the thought of writing, a desperate poem about how your city is covered in broken hearts, start screming in my lungs. Is your city drowning in broken things or running on it?

I hope the next time you cross a mart, it snows. I hope it snows to the extent that your cold city start shivering, I hope you get a taste of what you’re serving. For atleast 12 days I want the snow to stay there (beauty deceiving hearts), for 12 days are the maximum amount of time you’re capable of loving someone and your city is cruel for 12 months in a row.

Tonight, after reading this, when you’ll call me, I’ll miss 11 of them but pick 12th, for I know you won’t call after 12th. Even though, I promise myself to be better and be me, I lose myself to your city.
A city of tall buildings.
A city of cold hearts.
A city of you.

Categories
poetry

My Poems

My heart is a building/
memories blow/
like the wind/
Seekers shall find
home in my bones/
My skin shall always
relive the moments here/
even if I go blind/

I draw hearts/
on the glass/
that shelters dew drops/
for love is all I know/
And to embrace the pain/
is no weakness/
For You shall grow/
only when You know/

In the hallways/
wander hearts/
romanticising pain/
In the name of art/
~Ignorant~
you don’t have to turn blue/
everytime/
to know that you’re alive/
Art is apposite/
soulful/
And a smile/
can work wonders/ too/

My poems/
doorways to melancholy/
Past those/ hides/
a happy me/

Categories
poetry

Gods are dying in my country.

Centuries ago, during the
course of evolution, humans
brought the whole species
together, on the base of
One belief system; Religion.
We thrived. They say nothing lasts
forever; humans have this obsession
with change,
To know more, To be more.

And now ( fast forward to ‘I’ )
As ‘act of God’
I see my country moulding
beliefs of generations.
God has now become a tool
To control masses; we are given a
Reason to be scared of the sacred.
I see them locked in fancy buildings
like you and me, having 
‘no right to speech’, worse,
they can’t even speak because
no one is actually asking them.

/I used to think/
I’m an atheist/
but lately/ I have started to
believe otherwise/ like y’all/
I too have a holy book/

My God is as panicky and breathless
as yours. I watch TV
till my heart starts aching,
I clutch the Constitution
close to my flesh, with hopes
of lending some air to it;
I hear him suffocating.
Then I sleep to the weeping
sound of my God (Constitution);
who cries with all the other Gods
because Gods are dying in my country.

Prompt by Samyak

Categories
rant

The Fictional Truth

We are in the middle of a pandemic and also the global and national predicament, not to mention, most of us are confused with a lot of questions and quite predictably turn to news. Alas!
I feel like we have no where left to turn to. Like like we are stuck in a loop.

Joseph Goebbels, a German Nazi Politician said, “A lie told once remains a lie, but a lie told a thousand times becomes the truth”. Almost everything in our present post-truth, modern world, is based on this single statement. This is the era of fake news. Our media shapes perceptions; all the allegations, investigations, trials, tribulations and decisions are made here. If there’s anything that I learnt from all of this is, if media comes to my home, they’ll find me guilty for the crimes I had no idea of.

From religion to advertisements, I feel, we are running on fragile balance between truth and fiction. It’s always easy to weave fiction; because of our ability and the need to be heard and seen in social groups, people tend to believe in the crowd Or link it to centuries old faith. Works like magic!

Truth is always hard to handle and impossible to process. Can we, you and I, handle the truth about the food we eat, clothes we wear, about how we twisted and turned faith of centuries into nothingness, of how we are using God as a psychological weapon? how we ruined the earth we call home? and how we all are to blame for all the bad in the world?

There is good too, I don’t deny it. But I don’t run away from bad. I have learned to acknowledge the problem. Acknowledging a problem is the only way to solve it.

Truth costs relations. And in present world, who wants to lose faith of someone important or powerful? A lie is thus fed a million times, until it becomes the ultimate truth. We believe in what we hear repeatedly.

~ 🧜