Falling For You: They asked me how I knew

People often ask me, how I knew that I was in love. Even though you never held my hand or caressed my neck nor whisper honeyed words into my ears.

I still knew.

I still knew that it was you.

I told them that it was the littlest things that would suffice. When you would walk into the room and you would smile at your friends and then look around to catch my eye and warmth would emanate through the dust particles between us, only to make everything more pure. The way the sound of your laugh was more than just a laugh and a sweet melody like Mozart to my ears. How your smile was my secret hiding place on days when I felt the weight of my own thoughts on my shoulders. How our little conversations were the music that put me to sleep and how they were the first remembrances in my mind at 7 AM when I woke. That’s when I contemplated as to why people phrase it “falling in love” because you were a manifestation that I rose to every single day. But that part comes later, because only if I knew. Only if I had payed enough attention to the red traffic signal instead of getting consumed in the joys of the green one. If only I would have shut the windows a bit tighter to prevent the rain from seeping through, onto my wooden floors, turning them a darker shade. If only I would have blown out the candle a bit earlier.

If only.

But those few moments with you were bountiful and full of life- endless exuberant sunlit days of a young girl, of a one-sided kind of love. The rush of adrenaline by just thinking of you. The unforced and natural smile on my face and the irregular thudding of my heart against my cage. If it wasn’t for all these, then would true love be? I used to think that maybe one day, I would wake up and see your face next to mine, how your caramel hair tousled callously around your temples. How I would know how you like your coffee on Sunday mornings and how we would bicker about the most foolish things, only to come apologizing on each other’s doors in the evening. Ever wondered if “maybes” just remain “maybes” or turn out to be “never”?

I was unsure as to what possibly went wrong. What shift had taken place in the cosmos, where was the faultline under my earth, that I had to reassemble myself from the doom of unrequited love. And that’s when I realized why they call it “falling in love”. It’s a sudden dive into the depths of the oceans where nothing but your feelings and affection matter. Everything else becomes unimportant and secondary. You lose grasp of your own belongings and your own-self whilst in search of the rare pearl.

And how foolish was I and still am to let those memories of you make my bones warm on a winter’s day.  

***

So how did you know?

Advertisements

I Will Confess, Only After Death

Twas the mellow glint in thy eyes

So subtle, yet bright

Like a candle casting its light

I- your shadow in disguise.

Seldom, we spoke

An encore of our conversations, my early thoughts

When I woke. Your presence in my mind

long lived like the Oak. 

O, but in thy heart, there was some other

The truth, only leaving me bereft

Your unending presence, myself- tethered

Alors, perhaps, I will confess my love, only after death. 

***

Loving someone feels great, but not being loved back?

 

Is it even worth it?

All the blood and the violence and
the tearing apart
What could have been a flower
Turned into brutal hearts

What could have been resolved
With words and understanding, but you chose
to show power by bleeding your own people
And then with more killing

At His mercy, we were given power
So we could bring people to life
But all those acts of gratitude
By people who only connive

All Your Faces

All your faces, mere illusions
Mask beneath masks, the farther I went
The more I speculated reality- the weight of it
Or mayhaps the burden
On my frail outlines, I tried to hold
Only to crumble down on me
The closer I became to you
More distant I felt and stranger
I grew
Every moment I spent
When our eyes met, smiles synced, secrets lent
Your proximity felt imaginary
It could be, I share too much and trust
Too much and you- adept in the art of camouflage
And fooling me
But
Oh, beware, as I observe and just as cunning
To reach your core, when you lay bare
With your truth, facing right back
At you.

Silence Was My Guide

(To all those who have the courage to stay quiet and calm during days of the storms.)

Silence was my guide-

When your words stung me

Wounding and unkind

Callous deep inside.

Silence was my guide-

As I only became a mere observer

And decided to remain quiet

Petty sulking in my own melancholy.

Silence was my guide-

When thoughts of my own

Hazed the ground under me

Pulled down by my own mind.

Silence was my guide-

As I lay, in my insomnia

Thinking of the closest to me

Such enemies, how could they be?

Sanity

The minute hand passing by

Pages turning over

Nietzsche and then Karl Marx

Philosopher after philosopher

Trying to make sense of my vanished balance

Still squandering, dust within my fingers

Gracefully falling

On dissipating grounds beneath my feet

Serenity evaporated through that ground

Only to be vanquished by what was more

Powerful- my mind.

Answers, not even one held. As they watched,

Through the glass, all the passer-by’s, between

The books and pages, staring back. Right at me.

A Girl’s Beauty, ‘Tis Whole

A girl’s beauty, ‘tis whole

As a full new moon

Leaving her trails on this earth

Where she walked.

Amidst the darkness, the curve of her back

Like the crescent moon and the shine

Her gazes strewn

Meander through the gaps ‘tween

Your fingers and the shady trees

Yet,

Be careful! You love her too sweet

Poison in disguise, it might be

For her eyes are aught but that of a cat’s-

Vicious and innocent

Preying, desperate to catch.

My Heart, Twas Still

The facade above my head,

with cotton clouds, it filled.

My heart shell’d by the cage

in deluge of thoughts, it was still.

Butterflies and memories

gathering around me, as 

the pink of the sinking sun

through the horizon, it spilled. 

My gazes, adrift

an off-road train.

From my hands, they fell

given by you- immaterial daffodils. 

Traces of the vase, now near my feet

Not a single blood of mine

it would spill, as

my heart in deluge, twas still. 

Your Smile

And in those rare instances when we spoke, when I tried to maintain my equilibrium, my thoughts, when I tried to remain calm on the inside, it would all work. But then you would smile- mischievously and the corners of your eyes and your mouth would form soft crinkles, it would be like light radiating at the end of the tunnel. I would indulge myself in it, without knowing and I knew how that one action of yours was enough to capture a thousand hearts, even if you didn’t want to. It was infectious, almost like a disease, but a good one. I was unsure of how far our un-begun story would go, but when you smiled at me, it was like love knocking at the doors of my heart.  

Under Her Skin, Above His Bones

Note/Thought: This is not another sentimental or melodramatic poem about unrequited love, although they do tend to get the best of me; but this poem is about the similarity that runs within humankind- underneath our different looks and the ideals we follow and the rules that we hold ourselves up to, we all are the same when we are stripped naked.

***

Under her skin

and above his bones

components akin-

honey and venom.

Blue and red,

veins they run

connected like dots

as places on a map.

Sins we commit

and angels, we claim to be

the flesh covering us, our lies

thicker than that.

Sweet and flowy,

red like rose,

crests and troughs, the curves

of our bodies, they move.

A breath he takes,

a breath she leaves

their joy in flakes

each one, they grieve.

Our thoughts are thin

we are the same-

under her skin and

above his bones.

***