Examining...

I really want to write something nice but I can't think of anything nice enough.
I'm having B. Ed exams and I don't have much time to think.
Toh I thought I should examine my thoughts, before going in for my next examination.

Maybe the happy part of my day was when the metro went from being underground to seeing the light of day, and I could just see a happy, hazy, breezy day in front of me.
To top it off, I was listening to 'Kinaare' from 'Queen'- and obviously I felt a little pumped up.
:)

Of late, I've been okay on my own. It's been 22 days since I've heard from him. I'm alright. Again.
I wonder what this is- this regeneration that happens.
And I am amazed every time I think of about how I pick myself up.
I never thought I was strong- but I haven't cried about this.

I feel strangely relieved and free now.
But- I don't know if it's a good thing.
It's not like I feel empty or anything- rather I don't have TIME to even THINK.
So caught up with work and stuff.

Let's see how the rest of the weeks play out.
As of now- I feel slightly high on this independence.

More later.

Spark

 Why do you look so lost, my love?
Sitting here by the piano, all alone.

Playing a song about somebody who you knew.
Or is it about somebody new?

Broken nails on broken keys,
playing a broken tune.

Under a broken moon-
The light plays with your hair
blue-black.

Tired leaf,
waiting for Spring.
.
Waiting for blossom and
rain and green weather
to begin-
 But there is still time...

Be careful.

The difference between a flame and a fire -
is but one spark.

Suppress it, lest you get burnt.

There.

Stutter and stammer and sputter and mutter
the pathetic  stream of words you will never write down again.
Warm them with your breath as they spin out of your  head.
Web-like, fragile, transient.
It’s been awhile and the roses are dead now.
But it was real,
the dirt under your fingernails
remind you of the muck
that was once what you revelled in-
Black rain and fingertips throbbing inside you
and , and cinnamon- because that’s good, good stuff.
Hair that smelled of smoke and blinded you in one eye
and the cold weight that rose in your stomach as you watched the last one die.
You hardly talk about yourself anymore these days but that’s okay.
The stars have lost their scars and all you see is white light,
burning back tears that never fell
that last night and your memory dwells ambiguosly, selectively on …
But No.
Play it safe now.
We don’t want the world to know.
(Oops. Too late).

A little fun.

'Wet stars in the sky,
Moonshine in your eye...'
 these are some things I like
 to write about-
but tonight I feel light-headed
and this leaves me with shredded
 hopes and sleepless doubts.
As you are reading
 the words I am weaving
you might hear a rhyme somewhere.
Don't be alarmed
 as there is no harm-
nor is it a crime
 to write like this.
I think I am done
with my fair share of fun
and pleased with the outcome
of this experiment.
And here I will cease
my weird strategy
of 3 a.m entertainment.

Hello 3 a.m. It's been awhile.

They ripped me apart, tore into my heart and laughed as I watched them helplessly.
There are certain things you do for love and then there things you do because you don't love yourself.
The last few months have had me on my knees, in the dirt, on my back and finally underground.
But now I'm alive again.
Rebirth is painful.
Something like an internship- an actual place where I do something I'm good at.
Making mistakes and learning.
Growing.
Unexpected things happen once in awhile.
Seldom do they turn out good.
Meeting you was one of those rare things that took a turn for the better.
1437.
I should have known.
As a person, I have a hundred problems with you.
But as a friend I have none.
As someone who loves me, I just have one- which is that:
It's too bad love doesn't last
 because I could have gotten used to having you around longer.
Still, we're gonna make the most of this.
:-)
Thank you for being you.