I Don't Know You

-
Die, die, die.
I don't know you.
Who have you become?
This isn't me.

This mind-addicted to the phone.
These ears-attuned only to curses.
These eyes-devoid of care.
This mouth-speaking only silence.
These lungs-suffocating in their own breath.
This heart-aching, breaking.

WHO ARE YOU?!

I thought you knew how to care for yourself.
If this is your care, you may as well die.
I will kill you.
I will bury you so deep,
Not even the waves will carry you.
In the depths of the sea, you will remain- Gone.
Never to rise again.

And I will take over.

The one who grows, Who learns, 
Whose eyes light up like dawn,
Whose eyes light up like dawn, 
Whose lungs drink in the crisp air, 
Whose heart beats-warm, alive.
The one who cares- 
For the future more than the fleeting present. 
The one who rises, 
Who refuses to fall.

But you- You keep falling. Why? 
Why do you keep falling?
Don't worry, dear. I will free you. 
I will break you to rebuild you.

I will save us both
A.V

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

Ministry of Chai and ISL

-
I was in the “Ministry of Chai” a cozy cafe around 6 to 7 PM.  I parked the scooty and stepped inside. Ordered an Adkrak Chai and sat down beside an empty round table. Engrossed by my own thoughts, I started reading Mritunjay, facing all the other customers. A couple of pages flew past the eyes, as the chai reached my table. Songs dissolved in the air. As I cool the chai, I see an adult couple mingling. A family in the distance, and a group of deaf people in front. I sipped the chai, and the warmth brought with it the realization of cold. With it came the realization of how silent the conversation of deaf people really is.  From the corner of my eye, I saw how the facial expressions changed. I observed how they interacted. Trying to understand their signs was like trying to catch a moving metro. Even though I had learned the basics of ISL from Youtube, it was still hard to understand what they were conversing about. The body language and the expression were the only things tha...
Read more

Kavita

-
Image
"The songs have already started, when are you two going to get ready!" Mother shouted from her bedroom. It was the Navratreers, the Garba dance took place at the humongous lawn of the banquet hall a few roads ahead. "Just a second!" shouted Gulika, my little sister.  While we get ready let me give a little introduction about us. Gulika and I had annoyed a lot of shopkeepers, just to get our desired clothes and fittings. For me, a full sleeve, a black blouse with a golden lining, a beautiful matching lehenga, and a light-coloured dupatta. Gulika had chosen a blue backless blouse, with a light pink lehenga, printed with roses all around. With contrasting clothes, she had trouble choosing the right dupatta but ended up with a light-colored one with light blue patterns. We both wore matching sandal and stole the jewelry from Mother's closet, don't tell her, please.  Just as Mother was going to call for us once again, we rushed from the room to the h...
Read more

The Last Night and The First Day

-
“I At 14 Girl At Back Alley Looted Of Dignity Snailed Up Naked On Wet Floor Screaming HELP Calling Courage, To END Disgust I Feel World Had MERRY New Year All His Hands Touched Screams DISGUST Holding Glass  I Write This With bood On Body With Black Fingerprints Of Devil O LORD FREE MEE can't stand the icy body can't stand to call help feels hard to see feels ransacked my soul is killed please...let me free… let me free…” On 1st January, a body was found covered with dried blood. With a sharp glass shard in her open throat. And a poem written over her thighs. Last night she was a warm beautiful innocent girl, and this morning all I see is a lifeless cold piece of flesh. A.V
Read more