unhappily aware

Time, galaxies, a soul

authenticity, fearlessness, 

a scarcity; a need to feel, 

to not lead a life untouched. 

a life and I so passionately intertwined, 

a life of honesty and integrity, 

fun and subjectivity, 

a life that changes

not one that hides fear behind purity. 

a life lived for self and not for the third perspective, 

painfully in touch with what’s within, 

not carefully shielded from the uncomfortable feeling. 

ignorance isn’t bliss because knowing is sorrowful

it’s bliss when action follows awareness. 

without that, knowing is painful, it invokes 

unending, powerful, distressing shame 

a vicious cycle that makes you lose yourself the more you know yourself, 

because inaction makes you hide, and a conscious effort is made to become blissfully unaware. 

this bliss is false and deep within there is a truth

that is known but chosen to be unacknowledged 

how should one move past it? 

it’s like being tangled in a prison of your own creation, 

to break through the roots that are holding you down, you have to cut through what you think is your own. 

so you can’t. And the grip gets tighter. And you stay unhappily aware. 

छोटे किससे पर दास्तान नहीं

हम साथ हैं पर हैं नहीं,

मिलते हैं पर कोई नज़ाकत नहीं।

छोटे किस्से पर दास्तान नहीं,

खुला आसमान लेकिन परछाई नहीं।

तो क्या फ़ायदा इस राब्ते का,

जिस सफ़र में कोई सच्चाई नहीं? 

क्या लिखें उस पन्ने पर

जिस कहानी में कोई गहराई नहीं? 

a shameless desire

quietness and patience,

and yet a lingering desire; 

a tendency to disappear, 

and yet hope for a glimpse. 

even if brief and fleeting 

a chance of meeting

another intersection in intersecting lines

a view from and not of the skyline

a visual unmoving but electric

admit that there’s perfection in asymmetry 

admire that there’s beauty in what is messy

quietness and patience 

and a shameless desire 

a tendency to disappear 

and to catch a glimpse. 

a soul unwired, its willingness to desire 

and a bravery to admit it 

even though it can’t win everything! 

a sun that was actually behind you

The sun shines bright right in front of my eyes, 
a brilliant sparkle, a yellow almost white.
Pale shadows and the Tyndall effect, 
a pull so strong you don’t need a drive. 

Inching closer and closer the landscape opens up,
The buildings give way to the expanse, 
but then you find that your vision was corrupt.

You were chasing the mirror reflection
of a sun that was actually behind you. 

Feeling lost and betrayed now? 
Such is life without inner drive.
Trust not your eyes but your mind.
It leads you even when you’re blind. 

I meant what I said, it was an unintentional rhyme. 
The point is that it doesn’t matter when the force comes from within,
it feels unshakable and uninfluenced by external whims. 

आज को जीने नहीं देता

गद्दार, बेवफ़ा है यह मन की आदत 

जो सदियों पुरानी बातें दिखाए जैसे कल, 

और कल की बातें जैसे कभी हुई ही नहीं। 

जो जा चुके है, उनका वापसी संभव, 

जो आँखों के सामने, वह है ही नहीं। 

भला क्यों है ऐसा, मन का मन जो चाहे, 

क्यों मैं भी? ज़बरदस्ती? 

जो एक दिन थे आसमान जैसे साफ़, बेदाग, 

आज है मिटी हुई तहरीरें, जो लिखा था इसमें 

अब याद नहीं।

चालक है यार मन, लेकिन सिर्फ़ दिल के लिए

ताकि वह फ़िरसे जीने की हिमाफ़त कर सके। 

रात को सोने से पहले मैं कभी मन पर गुस्सा होती हूँ, 

पर वह हसकर कहता है की 

यादों को भूलना ज़रूरी था मेरे दोस्त,

वरना गुज़रा हुआ कल आज को जीने नहीं देता। 

बात तो सही है। भोज भारी नहीं है, हम आगे चल सके। 

it should not feel extinguished, that is the point

a dilemma, to accept little or 

to expect the best, 

to define "little" by self, 

is it a lens too harsh?

too critical? but the same lens

defines "the best" too easy

so it cancels out.

polarizing, extreme views:

love the way I want, or

don't love at all, leave, 

such is the nature of my expectations,

regrettably, I know it appears I condescend

on every lover, every friend

but I only demand for what I give,

it is fair, how an epic bond is built.

awareness is a gift, and I know 

I project my quixotic desires unto others,

a love for the books, 

a friendship for the movies,

but I want it. I demand it.

there lies a burning passion

in my heart, and it must be matched

if it feels extinguished, 

what is the point?

if should not feel extinguished

that is the point.

be able to look yourself in your eye

old memories, thick haze,

castles destroyed in craze.

living vial, moments reconstructed,

coercing 'chosen' to be 'stuck with'.

loving emails, frayed notes,

the last of the heart before it broke.

sun shining, new beginnings, 

forgiveness so that life feels fulfilling.

a you newer, pain is dimmer,

movement comes from turning the eye inward.

pain caused is forgiven, but the battles not forgotten,

you can rise only when the walls have truly fallen.

let it sink, let it tear,

you can listen beyond what you hear.

go away from the light, blanket of darkness

now is the time to get it off your chest.

still, in order to heal

love yourself fully, and be honest

you have to do justice to your soul.

always be in sync, never lie to yourself

will anything into existence, and most importantly,

be able to look yourself in your eye.