Life is, at times, tough...

And all we need to do is to prove that we are tougher than it...

He saw her red eyes filled with tears of anger. 
"Tell me why this rage?" He asked holding her in his arms. "Why do you fence for yourself so much?

She sighed and muttered, "Because all I really want is nothing but to be proved wrong."

A couple of hours more
and those dreams will,
once again, burn bright
only to turn into ashes
the moment you look the other way...
There has to be a restlessness and a certain feeling that says you're going to fall.. AGAIN
Yet you hope, against all odds...
you jump, and you pray
and believe when you say
what if this time you don't fall
what if this time you fly 

It was never easy..
And you have no idea how it should be..
Your life's a mess, it's crazy
But weird is fun..
Strange is beautiful..
It's dumb, stupid, cute
It's normal, rare yet wonderful

Painful, it must have been
or was she benumbed,
when she fumbled down the stairs made of love,
shattered into a million pieces,
each piece, too tiny to pick,
each piece, too far to find,
There must be a place
for the broken, ruined, destroyed and healed...
but she lives somewhere in the clouds of peace
as specks of dust, unknown and unseen...

There had to be a reason why he is today the way he is. He'd either stand out in a crowd or he'd be like an invisible gush of air that passes by which no one cares to notice. But nevertheless, he'd always be alone, away in his own thoughts.

They say everyone has a story to tell yet there are stories we never get to hear. Stories of pain, of grief, of trauma. And these stories would make you wonder if they are true.

And then these stories would tell you that it matters not if you do not have a good job, a good love life, or social life or a good career. Because when we talk of death, nothing else seems to make sense, nothing else seems to matter.

He'd always talk of things that would seldom make sense, if at all. And what he couldn't say, he would write.

He had to write. There was no other way. For the only one who'd listen to him had left him far behind. And she went not to a place where he could meet her, even if for a day. She went to an abode out of his reach.

"Heaven", he said, "she dwells there now."

I could cry, I could say I am sorry for asking about her or I could say nothing at all.

Silence, I choose not. For sometimes it's as cruel as the harshest of words.

As I search for words what to say to this grief-stricken soul, I wonder hadn't I always thought of stories he must have been hiding. Hadn't I always wondered what might be the reason behind the way of living he chose. And now that I got to know the immense pain he bears each passing day, I secretly wish I had never wondered, I had never asked.

And then one fine day,
it ceased to matter,
altogether,
when there was nothing left but oblivion,
disguised as felicity,
dressed as sorrow,
broken at places,
yet hopeful for a new tomorrow,
and they could, but see only one side,
so all they did, was presume the other...

The battle of words,
and one had to lose
another limped his way
to the grave he dug for himself,
and all the others
that survived the war,
screamed and wailed,
and hoped they'd died.

It's scary how someone can be so sad within
but smile in front of the entire world...

And then they will weep till they choke, 
and then wiping those tears away, 
they will laugh with you as if nothing happened..

How then will you ever trust that person enough to leave them alone??

Stay. Simply stay.

It's strange how people give up on you within weeks of promising that they will always be there..
and it's just sad that promises are destined to break
and when you had finally believed in that one promise
someday you give up on yourself too...
and it's not about love, it was never..
it is, at times, about barren hopes and a bleak tomorrow...

Dahling, let those tears fall
they are not forever to stay
with them, let the brutal winter go too
for summer will be there for you

and may be this savagery
you do not deserve to see
but even if this cruel world hurts
know that I will be there for you...

You are the serenity I look for each passing day
and when you look back at me so lovingly
I know you're the divinity too
and I can spend the rest of my life
just looking at you

Ofttimes I find myself in love with his simplicity
and I futilely search for him in this busy city
not his smile, face nor presence
his soul is what I long for with this tenacity 

I'd like to lose myself again 
in that cold wintry night..
cozy in my own company
I'd like again to write...
giving in to feelings
with all my might
I'd bleed my heart out
in solitude, to write...

Exactly when will you give up?

When things will seem out of your hands ?

When situations will seem out of your control?

Will you try to control them? Or will you let go?

Will you give up then? Or will you keep holding on?

Don't tell me that I gave up; I didn't.

Because I didn't let go; I just let it be.

Do you know that pain of leaving when you look back expecting to see a face waving goodbye at you but all you see is a dark abandoned corner?

There won't be any reason to return then.

All you can do is look ahead and not to stumble and fall on the pit ahead waiting for you.

The moment when you realize no one understands, no one ever did, no one ever will.
You were alone, you always will be.
But may be, just may be, someone will look upto you someday. And when they do, remember to hide those tearful eyes, to smile and to say - "look, life's so good." :-) 

One can simply never take back the words he spoke.
And when you know you unintentionally did hurt someone, instead of letting it go or keeping a distance from that person, you can actually do something to mend the broken. That's the least we can do, when circumstances never are on our side; we can stick to our words and promises even if people change and fate ruins..

Sleep!

May be you will wake up tomorrow and find that things never changed, the apocalypse never happened, and everything's fine, normal, at home.

Or may be you will wake up tomorrow and find that things have changed, for the better, the apocalypse is over and there's light, hope and a new home.

Sleep, you crazy soul, just sleep. 

Nay, you don't throw away those misplaced beads.. you find them, pick them up and make a new necklace.. probably not as beautiful as you imagined..but wearable nevertheless..