For a Friend

It is difficult to tell
of when and how
the fragrance of
flowers of our friendship
started to linger around
you and me, but
I am certain that
the garden of your love
has already dwelled
into my heart.

Not many words
were spoken
the last time I met you,
yet I remember how
every word was heard.

Again today if I drop
this pen and let these
words to wander
I know that you will
pick them up
where I left,
with your love.

Kritika Vashist



 Artwork by Christian Schloe

Artwork by Christian Schloe

…and when you heard
that it was just a headache
the veins collapsed
the vessels were pinched
a fire burned inside each artery
Heartache – was too hard to tell.

Kritika Vashist

PS. This is my 200th post on the blog. I cannot believe! Too much feelings or too much words, I cannot decide.

The Scent Of Yours

Artwork by Annie aka hashtag_grunge
Artwork by Annie aka hashtag_grunge

Looked for you through the unbending walls
Searched for your shadow between the sheets
While the broken pieces of our love on the floor
From the last night perforated my twisted feet.

Jotting your traces on the mantle wrapped around
I found myself lying knackered on the horizon line
While in the ocean of woe all memories drowned
Yet somehow the scent of yours inside me did survive.

Kritika Vashist

Unsent Epistles To Him

Painting by JarekPuczel

That summer evening under the street light
after we had talked about the music the café played,
the kind of books the bookstore had,
and how your lips dried,
and how my eyes twinkled
every time I lied about
not wanting to kiss you,
and you knowing the truth;
I told you how beautiful the evening was,
and after the settling sun has encountered
a gaze more brighter and intense than itself,
we went towards the station to catch our trains.
I held your hand, asking you to stay for a while,
and then wishing if we could stay there,
till the moon was up,
till I have tasted your favorite drink from your mouth,
till my neck has clasped you, and
till our light skins have been shadowed
by the softness of the moonlight;
but I could not have stayed for long, and you had to leave.
I did not tell you then, and you will never know
how the curve of your smile that evening had shaped my love,
and that my eyes had captured it,
and I still open that image through my mind into my heart, secretly.
We reached the platform and you went ahead for the hug
even after knowing that I give awkward hugs,
because you thought I get nervous around crowds;
however, like many other things that I slipped under
my smile, and hid while I tucked my hair behind my ear,
and few that I managed to drop in the ice tea and on the plate,
wishing you to catch them while I talked about the
lights outside the window looking at the roof lights of the café,
I managed to veil this behind my self-consciousness,
and to not let you know that it was the feeling of getting screwed
by the love that was filling the space between you and me.
The brakes hissed and screeched as the train slowed down;
it was time to board the train, and let my heart travel
in the never ending anticipation of your return.

Kritika Vashist

I Think Not!

I don’t know why I am writing this, maybe I want someone who has been crushed to read this and know that they are not alone in their struggle, or maybe I haven’t written this, perhaps someone else, the one I have never met in daylight, but is sure of her existence. But does that matter to anyone? I think not!

Suicide is never the last resort, because when pain has engulfed you completely, it is the pain that will cure it. No one in this fucking world has any kind of power over you. Never let a situation or a person control you to a level where your life doesn’t seem worth living, because the fact is that it is yours not theirs, because that fact is they did not give a damn to your pain and tears, your endless tries and efforts to get out of depression, your benumb thoughts and frozen body, but you are giving an unnecessary damn to them. Because the fact is circumstances change, but you are not giving yourself time to see them changing. Is it all worth it? I think not!

After you wake up from your suicidal dreams, go and take a shower and drain out all your suicidal thoughts, let the pain of seeing yourself as a failure at your various tasks, or in some relationship, slowly slip down your body with the water. Because you were not born to live for certain number of years, to fail and to kill yourself. You are more than these failures; you deserve a better love than the one, which compelled you to push yourself when you were at the edge; you deserve your own trust, not theirs; you are born to fulfill your dreams and ambitions, not theirs. The clock is same for all of us, but the time is different for each one of us. Would you still listen to the tick-tick of their time instead of yours? I think not!

Even after all these realizations, if dying seems like the best and the last option to you, then die once in your dream to reborn into someone you have never known, or the world has never met, into someone who doesn’t care even when there is no friend to say hello to, because you would no longer need hellos, love yous; you will be on your own. Will you think about another attempt to suicide then? I think not!

The boat sinks only when you let the water enter inside the boat. Do not give circumstances and insignificant people chance to make a hole in your boat. Does it still matter in whose voice you are reading it? I think not!

PS. I am not going to point out that there is family and people who love us, and who suffer when one has committed suicide, because sometimes they are very reason why one has killed himself/herself. Live for yourself, or for someone who is worth living for.


Kritika Vashist