Jane Tu Ya Jane Na

It had been a while since I took in oxygen and the essence of life reached my heart. I think that’s how we grow, building walls across the sole existence of our true self. It hit me when she said,
“You cannot really love, you barely know what love is, you don’t know. But you think you know, maybe to know, you just need not know. That’s what I know, that I don’t know love, maybe that’s why I don’t have to be someone else with you. I feel amazing around you. That’s what we need, right now.”

So, I am in a middle of a messy schedule, a beautifully wrecked idea of life, but a recovered idea of self.

Hi,
It had been such a long while and now, we are here again. I am your writer alter- ego. No, I am not like Coleridge or Wordsworth. I am more like you, but always so far away from you. Sleeping in the corners of your untidy space, partying with the dying stars in the darkness of your negativity. Oh, my favourite place is the void. The void, where you used to keep yourself obliviated from everything. You still don’t really know reality and you smile while typing all of this? Well, that is you. That is what you have always been, but the superego hates us, isn’t it? I mean, superego hates not knowing and expressing these sentiments. But we still smile while typing this.

It is funny and beautiful. She is funny and beautiful. Life? Metaphors?

Oh, just stop already.

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31st April, 2040

A few days, since yesterday, the pain has settled. If not settled, my mind has forgotten how to address it to the trees around me. I am happy to be alone, I asked my sister to take away Flake. No dog should ever witness the death of his owner. Unlike my family, he won’t understand my philosophy to smile away the last few seconds of my life.

I was ready, and the tumour was only a tool to ride the ladder. I don’t know if I was hungry. I was comfortable on my chair, looking at the door, accumulating all my spiritual energy to feel the light that never falls out of my universe.

Anytime now, God shall open that door to the void of existence. I will be one with the cosmos, it was time.I knew it all, a swift of the stars and then I can fly.

I heard the knock on the door, this could be anyone. Not my family, they respect my space, not my students, we already made peace with my death last month, not anyone I would not want to talk to on my last day.

“Come inside, if you are death. If not then there is a life out there for you. This old man cannot possibly help with life. Read some books, there are some resting near the broken car. Come inside, if you are death.”

“I have no intentions to make you feel. I come here on a selfish account.”

“It has been 7 years, Erika. I still remember your voice at the back of my head. The only woman I love, why have you come here. Leave. Don’t make this beautiful moment delay.”

“I feel you need some answers.”

“I don’t. I know it all, or maybe I don’t know anything. Never knew anything. I decided I will wait for you. Well, I cannot anymore. I am sure you still have reasons. I hope you have a great life. Now, leave.”

The door opened and then I saw the last thing any man would want to see in life. There she was, her long hair reaching out to perfectly curve waist, she was wearing one of those long dresses, a blue one, of course. Erika did not change. But, I never truly knew her. I just love her. She took a few steps and I could not move, Not because my body was cramped in every way, but that’s how it always used to be, her sight made me forget everything.

She held a violin to my heart,
Played along the strings
Till I fell asleep.

If

If I ask you to die, tonight.
Will you, speak out the entire lie.
I will run down your spine,
To tell you, that it’s alright.

If I ask you to dance the night.
Will you, spill colours of the dying light.
To wake up within, without me.

If I ask you about our love,
Will you, stay the entire time, saying nothing but singing away my life,
For in love, we dream no need.

I have asked a million things,
I have only one answer, I do.
I will never ask you if you do,

If you don’t.

 

Blind Blood

You remember that day when you placed the sword on my neck, just forcing my skin to sense intimacy, I told you I was alright. Maybe, I was not.

I liked the way you looked at me. Blind in love, pulling roses out of the red blood that left my body to feel blue. You looked at me smiling and I smiled back, as my knees met the ground.

You never knew love, neither did I. I felt something, pain. You must have felt something, must have sensed something. As I leave you forever, and my blood hides in the sand, you must have felt something.

I lived my life hoping you felt something and that’s how I died, hopefully.

 

Strokes of Silence

Do you remember? Somehow the background that filled in our favourite tree started singing when we forgot about the pain. We call that tree, Surreal. How he was breathing away the toxic silent despair that we let out to the world. Some leaves would drop down to us, in remains of our misery. We keep still, sometimes look into each other’s eyes. It took a few breaths for me to realize that I was. I was in need. I was in love. I was.

The music played till we gave up to the world. The beautiful kingdom we used to serve in our own ways. That place is like no other, in the middle of a menace but serene to synthesise love without the lows of the violin that I never learnt. No matter how much we loved the place, as soon as we used to leave to greet the rush, we were lost. The moment, I find the bricks smiling at me, and the people disguising themselves to stay away from the shame, I left the page and start to write a claim that makes no sense like this sentence. Yes, this is how my consciousness works when I think about the world, where you are lost laughing beautifully and sustain my self as this pseudo-personality.

You never used to speak a word that would sustain my self in the black spaces of write up. You never told me how you feel about the void we shared to feel our soul once in a bit of the menace. Surreal never used to speak either and at times, when I was not happy with my work, I used to enter the temple of silence with screaming thoughts and that’s when I felt the ambience hold me in peace.

We will leave this place alone, I know. But then there are ways, this universe compels you to smile and say, that it is alright. Listen to me, I would ask, tell me things. And no words would reverberate through surreal as the vibrations never left your beautiful lips.

Now, all of this would add on to my dilemma and leave me with the love I have, a little less lost, but never to be found.

One day, a day known for my arrival on this planet, I got a painting from you. And this is what it is all about. Now listen to what you said to me.

“Black bleeds reality and no reminiscence,
The dark comes from the heart,
That beats but only to feel,
The things I can say,
But won’t,
Black.

The red dips underneath the surreal surface,
Below the lies of all my mistakes,
From the secret of the smile,
That hides in the night,
Not thinking,
Feeling,
Red.

The blue is by the seas of the sky,
Where only dreams survive,
Where you and I die,
Deceiving the lost,
We find,
Blue.

The yellow is in your lost eyes,
When the sun denies,
To feed the flower,
With light,
Yellow.

The pink is dwelling in the dark bark,
The flower on the burnt tree,
You call us, destiny,
I barely know,
How I am,
Pink.

The white is the witness of it all,
The divine that decides,
The structure of all,
Your rhyme,
White.”

I know you dipped the brush in the deepest streams of your consciousness, somehow you reached me. And therefore, I call it destiny.

My Tsunami and Tears

When I looked into her eyes…

I heard violins bleeding melancholy. Her eyes had trapped a poet. The music that held my mind poisoned my senses to the outside world. It was a cold breeze that entrapped my soul, I felt as if I am standing on the edge of my existence.
Waves hitting the perplexed consciousness brought fret. Fever. Forlorn. Keats. Wait. This is my own head.

I broke out of my focus and realised I was lost. Somehow the music stopped and I could listen to the crowd around. I had to listen to the violin again, too compelling to be real, but surreal to my instincts.

“Do you mind if I stare?”

“A paraoid poet, huh?”

“Kind of. I am a little weird.”

I could sense the breeze again. Waves were there to comfort my numb senses. Slowly, the waves grew stronger, as if trying to reach me. I looked around and found myself alone trapped in my hallucination. I saw a huge wave approaching the shore. More like a tsunami as it approached. I said to myself, its alright. After all, this is just a play of time. 

“Just remember that all such troubles are now gone and the scars are healing.”

“Yes, but there is too much rush of memories and I almost suffocate myself.”

The huge wave had caught me, my heart trembeling to adjust into reality. I was losing my consciousness, everything faded with my heart beat. Slowly with seconds, I returned. 

“You dont have to cry it out.”

“I cant help it, when the memories hit the shore. I cannot control.”

“I see.”

“Tears are real. I dont like reality.”

“Tsunamis are worse, beautiful.”

A gentle touch on the pulse will hold us both to the limited reality we want to suffer.