Please be seated.

There are times when your own chair takes a shape of a wheelchair. There are times when “Please be seated” sounds forever. In that eternity, you meet some familiar chairs and some very unfamiliar ones too. When you bored to death in your wheelchair and walking away isn’t the option; so you roll back, roll front and finally roll down. Countering and avoiding the obnoxious stares of other inconsiderate chairs, you flip-flop between steaming down & rising up.
I realized my wired chair becomes wirier accompanying black coffee and cigarettes. Every chair has a face, I can see myself surrounded by blah blah, backbiting and bullying chairs. I can see the daddy chair imposing the control by paying unwelcomed visits. I see every chair is aligned with him. I did realize that some chairs are closer to each other and some constantly finding reasons to stay away.
I honestly invested and exhausted into my chair like an unrecognized charity and avoided my lifelong anxiety. Probably it’s all fair in the affair of chairs. I am happy that  I never gave up but also sad that I never stood up. I remain seated like a good child.

A wall to remember

Old-brick-wall-with-destroyed-windows

It seems like clusters of nude bricks stacked together to make a wall but it hardly gives any perception of a shelter. Somewhere in middle, I see a tiny window half flapped and the other half was shared by two beautiful siblings, communing with their window friends who stayed in same alignment few bricks above. Some random bricks from that uni-dimensional wall looking home, had lost its place from the origin which was conveniently replaced by nesting birds, bees and squirrels. I see, a sacred pipal coming out from the soiled layers between bricks. Last night rain, had woken up red ants from the cracks in the wall which inflate with sunlight and shrinks back with cold dew. I was intrigued by seeing so many abandoned life ceased on one front frame.Every entity on the wall had played its role to make it picture perfect without fear of missing out. It was the wall to be remembered…

That constant struggle

Devil-or-Angel

Being men, I can say that the good and evil do not exist in our mind
neither it’s in our heart.
But It’s on our shoulder.
On right, the truth of our life and
on left, desperate denial of the truth.
We carry them like a good angel and bad angel.
We wear and bear them like a badge of emotional pieces of baggage.
We listen to their persuasive whisper, we always do.
Then we give zero fuck and just follow the most comforting voice among them.

Writer’s Block

Logophile's log

wrietersblock

One-liner entry in your diary.
Which you believe,
would shape into a beautiful poetry.
But then a pause.
You don’t realize when you stuck with a brain fade.
Until you see,
that one line got underlined a few times.
Poor thing that you wrote.
Trapped into the quotes.
And double quotes.
Longer the pause,
loftier your fingers contribute in the attributes.
Your one-liner’s fantasy to become a poetry.
Gloomily, remains the same way.
Now dumping it into a do list and calling it a day.
Brain fade induced pause,
remained a pause.
And priority wins over poetry today.

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Awkwardly adorable…

hidden___behind_the_curtain_by_scout73-d5yo2ha

Awkwardly adorable,
Species who challenges the definition of being normal.
Call her name little louder and you can see her face ponder.
She kills a humour but her innocence can win you over.
Entitled to be mainstream killer,
Inherited the heritage of a believer.
Awkward and awkwardly adorable…

Staring at the sunshine in beautiful summer eve,
through the curtains…
She wants to see the world outside,
But sad she won’t let go…
Never let go the curtains…For certain.
In the rain, she drenches her fingers through the window,
but sad, she won’t let go,
never let go the curtains…For certain.

Her lifelong Struggle to keep up with people.
Struggle for being real,
Yet humble and adorable…

Lady warrior

pic-4

She owns her tiara.
Expensive equilateral on her wide forehead.
Priceless expression of self-pride
controlled and untangled.
In her thoughts.
Calm and collectedly
standing tall.
Wait…
Standing tall and fighting with…
The wind of winter fall.
She is white as a ghost…
A feisty warrior with a sword.
Frosted in the blood.
In fall of snow…
Still holding the fort…
She owes it to him.
She fought for the dead king…
Kept the word of her lord.
Death followed her,
But she kept following the invaders…
Like a true warrior.

I am earth

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I…I am earth.
I kept rolling to keep your faith in time.
I never let you go out of hook.
Always kept you surfaced and rooted.
Showing you my integrity through my gravity.
I was the playground when you were growing around.
In life, when you were down,
you come down to me on your knee.
You try aligning yourself to almighty with hands open or closed.
Following your faith and their methods.
In the moment of silence…
That soothing voice which said keep moving and keep rolling.
I was the one.
I…I am earth.
I am human’s, ultimate watchman.

Patience

patience
The Strength of forgiving the unforgivable,
Weakness of not letting out the deep desire.
All you know, you had this in you,
Patience…
Some seek in them but they come out empty-handed,
Some run away from it and get caught red-handed.
Patience. A Bad Inheritance…
An advice to others when things are not right.
And those too, who are chasing their dreams…
Patience…
Within and without…
It’s all about a pause before taking that big stride of pride.
Now the flip side
Deeper and darker…
It’s the damn wall that never let you cry, never let you high and dry.
Secretly seeking a place to hide the tide of emotions.
Patience is the living option,
In darkroom of prisoner counting days of his death sentence.
Patience…In you, when it shouldn’t be…