Unrequited

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It kills me to see that I’m not part of your plans
Sitting beside an open book, I hear your favorite music in my ears
For I am clueless, five years from now, where will I stand
I wonder if i will ever leave our dreams, our world behind
Or become like a controversial piece of art, the government has banned
your love lingers in my blood, and my life still rest in palm of your hands
Thus, save thyself from me
because, I cannot save myself from thee

My heart jumps to my throat
The last bit of my energy fizzle out from my mass
I wake up middle of the night, I jump cliffs in my wildest dreams
You held me in your arms, and pulled me away like a speck of dust
I see you smiling far away, and running closer as a thunderbolt
I fake smiles, I feel like crying to the top of my lungs
I cuddle you like I did, I still hide you in my darkest nooks
Thus I say, save thyself from me
Because I cannot save myself from thee

Darkness has overtaken my light
I am drowning by the minutes
I lie awake in my stagnant being
Like Lifeless dead spirits
My past has oversaken me
My present portrays gloom
I still hold my hand in yours
My future, my world is where you i only want
Thus, save thyself from me
Because, I cannot save myself from thee

Identity Crisis

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And then he left, leaving behind a haze filled with bewilderment. She was still in a trance, in a state of denial, it was like to have lived in your mother’s womb for about nine months, away from an undiscovered world full of misery, betrayal, lies and disillusion. When pulled out of his little world in amniotic sac, it takes a while for a child to breathe into the new world, to finally distinguish temporary from permanent, lie from reality and darkness from the light. It was what she felt, the agony of having exposed to the world she was skeptical existed.

But how come someone turn his back on tall claims of love, life and togetherness and change them altogether into abandonment? Who was she? Someone special like he made her believe or someone he has left her as [someone unworthy to fight for]? – It was a plain state of identity crisis.

What is love then if not giving up on your comfort zone? and accepting the challenges on your way towards the acquisition of ones object of desire? What is love then if not desiring someone to the point of no return? What is love then if not falling sick and handing away the ventilator into the authority of one person? What is love then if not declaring war against the transgressors of your heart’s desires?

She sometimes wonders, when few years down the line, during long winter nights, he would be sitting beside the fireplace with his family and children, maybe then while he would be narrating an incident to his family, she would cross his mind. If only for a moment, she will consume his mind. Will he shrug her off considering her a long-gone mistake, a youthful mistake unworthy of a mention?

She thought to herself, had Jinnah not stood up for the interests of Muslims in subcontinent, and had not worked tirelessly to achieve a dream called “impossible”, Pakistan have not been made.

She would finally know, it was not him. It was her. someone unworthy to fight for.

In War

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Do you know how it feels?
when humanity falls apart
and guns aim at your feet
when there’s long way ahead
but you’re deserted in friendless vast land
When air is fumed with smoking fires
And screams engross your family ranks
when you only wish you could help your mate
but you know there is enemy at the gates

Do you know how it hurts?
When bloodthirsty animals devour at your meat
tears and cries is all you can read
when night has fallen and day never seem to arrive
and you seek your mother’s caress
but all you feel are piercing knives
when world is counting your deaths
but does less than it requires
Alas, when even wars are commercialized

Do you know how to survive?
when hidden behind the mounting tanks
you find monsters attacking from evil lands
A child whispers to another
With a gust of such fear
that his little heart sink to his pants
Approached by a fiery gang
With a hollow chest of a beastly vamp
starring them with empty eyes
when a child stands up before his friends
and bravely shouts, take me!
unlike you, i give my life like a revered man

Lights will guide you home

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There was a lighthouse across the seashore! – just as she was at verge of losing all her hopes, it was glimpse of that radiating upright lighthouse bringing her back to senses. “How many times have I lost hope before?”, she thought to herself. As far as she could remember, this was the second time in her lifetime when she found herself parched; feeling abandoned in the middle of a desert, helpless and convinced that it is time to scribble down her will. First time being her break-up with the man of her dreams, who was to remain in dreams alone, something that she could only understand after she found out about his apparently secretive love-life with a girl from a small town, from where he migrated to her city. “What better could life be without him?”, she mumbled standing on the roof top of the old city building. “I can live without anyone, without him”, she boastfully declared while she knew that she is making another fragile attempt to convince herself out of the helplessness. Each day, and night, she was struggling to pull herself up, it seemed like a cursed darkened whirlpool she was drowning inside each day. She worked at an advertising agency, as adviser and manager of social media agent, since the last five months, not only had she become irresponsible towards her career goals, but also complaints against her projects were flowing in from her most loyal clients. It was a sharp pain, an agony of losing not only her heart but her soul to someone who felt plain nothingness for her in return. Only that day, if her friend hadn’t rescued her in a state of complete frenzy, in her standing-abandoned-in-the-middle-of-a-desert moment, it would truly be her time to jot down her last wish.

It took her months to hold herself back together, she traveled with her best friend and her extended group of friends who were going to complete a photography assignment while working for a magazine. Together they galloped through mountains, plains, greens and rusty lands, they spotting animals, chirpy colorful birds, while all through this journey she couldn’t stop pondering over the mysteries of nature. “Has life really finished for me?”. “Does life really changes by the existence of a being?” “Is it just human mind that finds peace in denial?”-  Birds still fly, mountains still stand erect, water hasn’t stop flowing through the river currents, while she stood open armed at the edge of the cliff, wind caressed her hair softly whispering into her ears, I haven’t stopped either, why have you? It was during her expedition to rediscover herself when she ran into a piece of writing in her friend’s hand bag, a poem from Emily Bronte,  it felt like a divine message, that touched her connecting the broken pieces together, telling her – This is it! Write!, you shall write.

Shall Earth no more inspire thee,

Thou lonely dreamer now?

Since passion may not fire thee

Shall Nature cease to bow?

Thy mind is ever moving

In regions dark to thee;

Recall its useless roving

Come back and dwell with me

I’ve watched thee every hour

I know my mighty sway

I know my magic power

To drive thy griefs away

Then let my winds caress thee

Thy comrade let me be

Since naught beside can bless thee

Return and dwell with me

– Emily Brontë

First time she moved her pen, it felt heavy, words felt echoing from far away, not a writer’s block, but it was starter’s block.  She held her pen closer to her face and said, “Maybe I am hopeless after all”. She lost hope, yes hope! – and this was the second time. Though reluctantly, but she remembered there was in fact a moment of utter disgrace when she flunked her mathematics quiz as a student of grade five, without wasting more than a moment of silence on the “catastrophe” as it was called by her family, she was labeled the queen of hopelessness, whereas, on the other hand she was only plain blank emotionally, or indifferent to the situation for that matter, thus it could not be termed as another of loss of hope event in her life.

Shrugging off the memory flashback, she stood up on her feet, briskly and then uncontrollably escalating the pace of her speed ran towards the lighthouse, which was radiating blue light, or was it green?, she couldn’t quite comprehend the true color. She was alone on a creepy Island, without a hope of getting rescued by a savior; this light house could be her way back home. “I must get there”, she said breathlessly, standing about furlong away from the mysterious lighthouse. Getting closer to it, relatively slower than before, she kept her eyes focused on the strange lights. She was amazed, a wave of fright ran up her spine, it wasn’t just a ray of light; she could clearly see glittery stars floating in the light rays.

Trying hard to absorb this unbelievable sight in front of her, she moved ahead, in an attempt to get hold of the apparently magical starry light. While she reached just there, raising her hand in order to grab a star, she felt nothing, her fingers did not feel anything except thin air while they passed across the light rays, it was plain light rays with starry images. “Where is the source?”, she thought, confused. “Where is it coming from?”, she thought inquisitively. Following the light rays, she moved ahead, climbing the staircase, reaching top of the building, she found nothing of what she expected, no electric bulbs, or tube lights, there was something unbelievable lying on a wooden plank, with her jaw-dropped bewilderment she approached near, and observed the blue colored glass bottle radiating blue magical light. She touched, smelled, rubbed {In case a genie might appear} the bottle but nothing. “Wait a second!”, there’s a paper note in there, she noticed. Turning the bottle upside down she managed to get it out of the bottle. Rolled like a kingly revelation, she opened it and found what she just lost: Hope. In big, capitalized letters, the paper note read HOPE.

Yawning and stretching, she woke up to purring of her cat, who was struggling to climb up her lady’s lap. It was 4:00 am in the morning and she dozed off about 2 hours ago, trying to scribble down her first story, with all hope lost. Now she found her story, she knew what needs to be written. It was hope she will write about hope, to never give up hope because no matter where you find yourself standing, lights will guide you home.