Oblivion

I no longer slam the doors in disgust:

the lies curated on the foundation of love

slipped in remorse

the words,

popped out tersely.

You have passed

in the oblivion of night

hideous, as always.

I do not weep;

instead, sprawl on the bed

and let the brain

dig on those melancholic memories,

feeding every bit of it

to chimera.

Hours were spent in solitude,

the stomach rumbled in agony;

it was yet to unravel

the trickiest puzzles of all-

the tangled mesh of lies and hatred

which you took

to your grave.

Here,

lies your body,

so cold,

pool of blood surrounding you.

My hands stink of your blood-

I don’t regret ripping your ruthless heart

at least now I know

that you will never lie

not just to me,

but to anybody else.

I lay my head on your chest

feel the ribs cracking beneath:

take the same blood-stained knife

slit my wrist,

and I pass out too

in the oblivion.

-Shikha Bajaj

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The Doomsday

23 Feb: It was all okay, until the arrival of that one text. It felt as if someone had wakened her from a deep sleep, with a dream, she knew would never come true. Both of them had predominated her mind for a quite long time, and now it was the day of decision-making. No one had the slightest hint of what she was undergoing through. She herself was searching the answers to questions which kept her awake all the nights. But she definitely knew one thing – steer her mind clear of the two. It wasn’t that easy as said. There was a lot of emotional turmoil, all the voids now demanded their missing pieces. She tried to keep her thoughts at bay, concentrating on everything she had in hand. But soon she could see her world fading into the blue. This wasn’t one of her firsts though. Her heart was broken, rejoined and again broken to more smaller pieces. With a million pieces of her broken heart, she went back to writing her story. The quiet, shy introvert actually had a whole lot of stories to say, which she either talked out to the mirror or penned down for everyone to read. Music and writing always lifted her mood. She was mysterious. She was unpredictable. Her eyes could never comply with the words she spoke.

She was in a mess no one would dare to put themselves into. But there had to be some closure. Narrowing the eyes, with her head throbbing, she just clung to the side table. She didn’t even flinch for once, seeking sympathy. She knew she had to be strong, and that life is all about fighting back and moving on. She turned on her heels, and quickly took her notepad out. She scribbled, and with all the emotions coursing through, she knew she had made the decision.

(PS: Some of you might feel that the title doesn’t justify the post in real sense. For Them: Our brains ain’t alike, and so is our perception.)

The Ultimatum

Abusing each other

both leave the conversation

hanging in the middle-

decide to never see each other’s face

choose different paths:

destiny mocked-

land up in a conference

face to face-

couldn’t stand each other

even for a second

rage burning in their eyes.

Years of hatred wasn’t easy to handle

volcano, you can call it:

broken hearts take years to mend

how could time heal those wounds?

The familiar, horrifyingly intense ache

was enough

to keep the flames burning.

The ongoing war

couldn’t be hidden for long,

nor could they hide their desolation.

They sat quietly,

just for the sake of their job’s-

swallowed up the pain

deep inside it rested,

and tore them apart.

-Shikha Bajaj

An Open Letter to my “Busiest” Friend

Dear I’m always busy friend,

I never thought I’d write a letter to you, but you don’t really seem to leave me with any other option.
So, here am I! You must be thinking, why all such formalities and blah blah blah. Wait. Let me first complete my part of the story. You’re then allowed to think and ask questions, present your part. Rather, debate.
1) You are a virtual friend of mine. And at this point of my life, I don’t need one. I’ve plenty of real friends, whom I think, exist as a proper noun, unlike you, who seem like a computer’s player, an abstract noun.
2) Advice. We should rather not talk on this. We both know we suck at giving advice. Especially on relationships.
3) You’re like a fake GPS location hack, I hope you know that. Honesty is the foundation of every relation. And I guess our foundation was a weak one- for you hid everything from me, and ironically called me your so called “Friend”.
4) You never replied. Didn’t reply? No no, you ignored. Yes, and whenever you did this, it felt like something really hard has been punched right in my gut.
5) You know what, my college is double the distance of your home and my place. So telling me I live far away is the most stupidest excuse I’ve ever heard.
6) Since three years, you’re busy. Wow. I like this one. This is the biggest lie. No one is too busy to not meet a person in 3 years. It’s all about priorities. Timings don’t adjust, time is short, loaded with assignments, don’t have enough holidays, and more. Don’t bluff around.
P.S. You can write a book on “1001 ways on how to ignore people”.
Introspect, before you think I’ve said anything wrong up till now.
I know you won’t ever read this letter, and I’m glad for it. You didn’t, but at least I changed my priorities. This is best for both of us, I feel. Well, you were and you are always free to exercise your choice. This time, I exercised mine. Wish you a very happy new year.
Yours  Never Yours,
Shikha.

The Girl Behind The Novel

Eyes absorbed in every word of the novel,

The Spectacles right on the edge of the nose,

Sitting near the window sill,

She kept reading, till her hair mocked,

And she played with them.

 

She smiled as she went past the pages,

She giggled; laughed; cried; prayed-

All the emotions coursing through her.

 

The twists and turns made her stomach churn,

Her face now grows pale:

Intensely thinking post reading,

What goes wrong.

 

She was two sided-

And just like the moon, no one had seen the other side.

 

People underestimated her, neglected her-

She was not just “The Girl Behind The Novel” as labeled by many,

But something more than that,

More than anyone’s imagination.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Raksha Bandhan

Dear Bhaiya,

In this whatsapp era, who writes a letter, when the person is just a call away? But I hope you find this letter in pink of your health. How are everyone? How’s your studies? Well, everything’s fine here, and I hope you too are sailing in the same boat.

I remember when I was in my late childhood, back then mom used to dictate me sentences which i was supposed to write on an A4 size sheet, with a neat handwriting and zero errors. Not much acquaintance with the language made me repeat the same words over and over. From getting my letter proofread by the whole family to quietly posting it by myself, we grew up. I no longer think what I will write, or how will you react. Conversations have become much deeper. Letters now play an emotional role in my life. I can probably write anything and everything. So like every year, I am writing you this letter, and to break the monotony of the previous ones, I won’t send the instructions for Didi. Because by now, didi would have already spoken up my list even before the letter arrives.

Bhaiya, we have had a lot of memories together. Some day, instead of posting, I’ll tie you the rakhi, and there I would not have to write a letter.

Give my regards to everyone.

 

Yours loving sister,

Shikha.

YOU

I once again curled on my bed,

With no sign of you, I began to dread-

Loneliness makes me sad,

Reminding me how days are good and nights are bad.

 

I fear every moment,

Your memories indeed haunt me:

And how I feel the presence of your soul around-

Flicking my hair with impish glee.

 

Why did you leave so early?

I never felt this weak and pale;

My knees trembled, soul shattered to a million pieces,

And the only thing which could soothe were your tales.

 

Every centimeter square of this house reminds me of you,

I’m lonely, and longing, for you,

This is true, and I can’t deny-

I’ll get everything in this world, but ¬†YOU.

The Final Parting

Novels. Huge books, as defined by many. Alluring, addictive for me. I hated reading story books, fairy tales, novels, newspapers, in short, everything. I slowly developed a taste and interest for novels because of my closest friend. She enlightened me with the benefits of reading, and I witnessed them myself.

In the beginning of my journey, the number of pages scared me. The thought of reading the entire novel was something I didn’t consider my cup of tea, until I read one. The novels are my escape from reality. I could travel whole world, enjoy my dawns and dusk, eat luscious savories, slip and enjoy the audi and mercedes’ rides, and much more. The idea of parting from my favorite characters haunt me. I know I have to remain affixed and concentrate, but I am helpless, for it’s just too addictive! But today, my parents have made my worst nightmares come true. The pain of getting separated from them forever has choked my throat, it is beyond my pen’s capability. I didn’t know my journey would end so soon, and so abruptly. I laughed when I heard their final decision, but my wet pillow gave a different reaction. I don’t know what made them do this, I never expected my fate to be this harsh with me.

I don’t know if I will ever make my way back through those shut doors. I cannot imagine anything worse than this. Deep down, I just pray, like my novels, this isn’t real.

P.S.: I fear the day the storm within me would burst, but I’d still try till my last attempt, to hold on.

An Act Of Love

Love. People say it’s beautiful. Some say it hurts. So my question is “What is Love?” Is it some person, who makes you happy or sad, or is it some animal who’s scary? Well, everyone has got their own versions of this so called LOVE. For some, it’s merely lust, or attraction. For some, it is worship. Some hate it, while some are in search of it. But I think that it is above all the definitions. It’s a feeling, which cannot be described. You don’t need to tell those species that you love them. You express it. And it’s not only typical “couple thing”, it is what a mother does to her child, an animal does to his master, a gardener does to those flowers grown in his garden.

Many of us like animals, and are fond of having pets. I personally don’t like to have pets at my home. There’s a street dog in our area, who has been coming and resting outside my house for about a week. I usually go out at the time it comes and rests. Since two days it has changed it’s time, and now comes a bit early. I happened to see it come early, so quickly got some biscuits and broke into pieces. It was so hungry it couldn’t wait and licked them from my hands. I could see a strange satiety in his eyes, and his tail was wagging swiftly. We share a strange bond between us. It tries to say a lot, and gestures are enough for us to communicate. Words are not always required.

This feeling, is love. I felt it for that animal, who is shooed away by everyone, thinking he’ll bite them. Even he’s searching love, for someone who can caress him. Finding love and happiness is not difficult. Change it’s definition, and see the difference!

Road Trip

Traveling is something which soothes my soul. There are various modes of traveling, but road trips are my favorite. Especially when you just pack your bag and go where the road takes you, exploring new places, the way it is carved so perfectly, the smooth texture, and you’re mesmerized. I had recently been to Hyderabad, which was a 15 hour long journey, and believe me, it all felt like a dream. There’ll be times when your vehicle will fumble over the stony path, but they’ll too feel amazing like a roller coaster. The trees around are swaying by, allowing you to feel like a flying bird. The breaking of the dawn, the falling of the night, everything seems so beautiful. In cities, we are so busy with our own lives and problems that we hardly get time to appreciate nature. While moving, you’ll realize that you were actually packed in a box all this while, suffocated and choked. Now when you’re out, you can breathe freely. You now know what’s the real world, which exists far beyond our imagination. You can hear birds chirping early in the morning, leaves humming their own songs, sun rays smiling at all those field laborers, wind playing with the hair of those girls swinging, water splashing on the feet of women washing clothes, stars gazing people sleeping on their rooftops. I just can’t describe how it feels, so you should witness it at least once in your lifetime!