Random Tweets

Who cares for quality when one is not even able to string two decent lines in to a a blogpost! So I better stop this nonsensical wait for a poem to pour or some concentration to muster in a prose. I better share with you my random mind that I tweeted away in the span of a fortnight or so.

• There’s a certain North star that I’m in love with for the conspicuous glitter it has; Its heart might have caught a bigger fire!

• the bigger the fire the brighter the face!

• If only we could erase our sorrows from the slate of our mind! If only we could write ourselves all over again!

• Could I rise from the ruins; wish I could grow wings like a phoenix!

• I’ve become a cynic; a terrible one at that!

• Raith say buth na bana aey meray achay fankaar; aik lamhay ko teher, may tujhay pathar la dooN!

• So, where’s my galaxy when the sun’s sunk into the horizon?

• Passing through a weird phase that has the potential to make or annihilate my inner being; wish I metamorphose to something good!

• Dont succumb to vanity; Cling on!

• As if someone’s clipped the wings of my imagination; I cant get out of the box to write and think! I’m dying to write something, really!

• Gimme Thy blessings! Gimme the fertility of thoughts!

• The sun is breathing its last! Lemme absorb its dying beauty in my eyes!

• I love it when the orangish tinge of the dying sun reflects in my eyes!

• safar dushwaar hay lakin; tumhari yaad kay gul; raah may khushboo lutatay hain

• I was ‘optimistook’ hence am a pessimist!

• The world tastes me porridge every time I’m high on the wine of dreams!

• Give me some food for thought; I’m hungry since eternity!

• Am not a cannibal but I still have the crave to hold your quivering heart and taste whether it tastes my love! 😛

A Hurting Departure..

It was fine then; when
your separation octopused
my soul and devoured
it calmly, stealthily.

Now, the departure of
your thoughts is hurting
the very place, which
placed them for eternity.

Do me a favor, if you can!
Tell them not to shout, not
to mock at the hollow
they forsake; tell them
leave it quietly to
a natural crumble,
brick by brick
to the ground!

Photo Courtesy: http://www.flickr.com

Nursery rhymes? Aren’t they fun!

Its been ages since I last tried something to rhyme. As most the people I came across in a few writing forums loath rhyming and rightly so for rhyming could so conveniently affect the thought behind an idea; the thought being the soul in a write up or poem for that matter. Yet, there are some schools of thought who love to keep the tradition of rhyming alive. I heard from someone an interesting analogy of exemplifying the context to that of tea and a cup; the tea being the thought or idea of a write up and the cup being the structure or form. Now some prefer the chai to be strong enough to sooth their senses while their certainly are others attracted by the colors and structure of the mug containing it.

Below here is my effort to rhyme a few lines for fun. The critics surely will call them forced rhymes which in fact they are but what I wanted was to play with those words the way I haven’t played for quite some time.

Your whispers like a flowing rhyme

sound as if the bells chime

in the crypt of a slumbering time

with an an effect, purely sublime

_________________________________________

Your eyes, like goblets of wine

are made to quench a thirst only mine.

In the dark of life, like a guide divine,

keeping me on track, do they shine.

___________________________________________

Growing doubts in your brain

will only help our love to wane,

and I can’t bear such a pain,

for I’ll hardly remain sane.

______________________________________________

Placing on this heart, the sill

of your separation is a pill

bitter than hemlock; better

you asked me, myself to kill

Writing Melancholy

When the ferocity of pain

pierces the bounds of reason,

gushing in to the realms

of my mind,

and floods the corridors

of my heart;

when it rises up the levels

of strangulating heights

and just when I’m about

to drown in its tides,

I hold on to my pen

which inks the excessive

water, shaping it

to words and phrases.

Thus I’m unburdened

but the brazen words

never cease to invoke

sympathy, as though

the pain was maltreated.

It surely encourages ..

Its always encouraging to see one’s name in print against something and that too in a leading youth magazine like Us.

This time around, it helped me boast a bit, in front of an eternally unimpressed family members who surprisingly encouraged me too to continue with the ‘non-sense’ I write on and off, as they said. 😦

Speak!

Finding mirth in

strangling the words

even before their birth

is sadistic.

Floating hush to

the ears eager to hear

the utterance of ‘love’

is insanity.

Wiping stains

of emotions of the face

is no gain

but self-deception.

Love is vanity

without the symphony

of reverberating melody

expressed in vigorous words.

Volcanic Pain

It cannot be tamed;
the pain of love.

Subdued, it may seem
for whiles in between
the volcanic eruptions.

And the raging streaks
of lava flow down the cheeks
of a lover, tracing burning lines,
to soothe.

A heart in a volcanic range
could only treasure the pain–
which flames a dying love.

To my unseen

Up above in ether
a star winked at
a star, and a divine
stroke completed the
loveliest of pictures.
Then it gifted it to me.

A miraculous midnight sun
shone, whenever darkness
tightened the grips.

I boasted of holding
a treasure in my chest,
but the world required
logic, and you didn’t show
to prove them wrong.

My hands complained me too
for not entwining them with
yours, and my eyes ceased
to shine, asking for the reflection
of none but you.

Appear before me,
or I’ll begin to doubt
the sincerity of divine intentions.

They will love us,
roaming the universe
up to the ether.