You, Only You

Today someone just take me away from here
To a place where there is you, only you
No promise that causes ache
No destiny that plays
Without any consciousness
Without any obligation
Let it just be the silence, remoulding into
Yours and mine fast paced heartbeats
Today someone just take me away from here
You were the one who left
Today, that one, who takes me away
Should be you, only you…

-Kritika Vashist

plain_plaster_texture_02_by_goodtextures-d2y1pz6_edited

Without Reason or Rhyme

Gabriela Lutostanski
Source: Gabriela Lutostanski

I love you even if you love someone else
I love you even if I am with someone else
I love you even without your presence
I love you even without my consent
I love you even when you don’t think of me
I love you even when I don’t think of you
I love you even when my mouth lies
I love you even when my ink dries
I love you even when the memories fade away
I love you even when the words escape
I love you in echoes of my laughs
I love you in silence of my tears
I love you even when there is nothing
I love you even when there is everything

I love you even when the leaves on the tree have dried
I love you even when the ocean has drowned in itself

I love you, that is the only way I know, and
there is nothing I can do about it.

-Kritika Vashist

The Melancholic Song

Painting by Januz Miralles
Painting by Januz Miralles

I struggled throughout the nights,
Pulled out all the stops during the days,
Fatigued eyes did not stop painting.
The echoes did not cease for a moment,
In the deafness of bleeding ears .
The head exploded with each verse.
The heart paused for longer than usual
and heavier than heretofore, after your name.
I crawled inside the creased sheets,
With the song still playing inside me.
The silhouette darkened more in chorus,
The beaming sun, all clouds wailed in chorus.
When later the moon howled
In silence and in pervasive pain,
The words of the song echoed louder
Inside the empty bones,
While the beats slip into the skin,
In spite of many denials.

Looking at the blank canvas of our love
In a room reflecting the faded memories
I wondered in desolation,
How you continue to be the song?

I broke down more and more,
Convincing myself that
I have finally jumped off the cliff, and
I don’t wish to love you anymore.

-Kritika Vashist

शाम का ढलता सूरज हु मैं… (With English Translation)

Image source and abstract meaning: https://hbhatnagar.wordpress.com/2015/10/19/mundane-mondays-25/
Image source and abstract meaning: https://hbhatnagar.wordpress.com/2015/10/19/mundane-mondays-25/

शाम का ढलता सूरज हु मैं…

शाम का ढलता सूरज हु मैं
हल्की इस आग में सुलगता हु मैं
रात का अँधेरा जब उतर जाए
मेरे इस टूटे हुए बदन में
शराब की बोतल में डूबती तिश्नगी सा झूमता हु मैं
इस गीले काग़ज़ पर लिखे शब्द करते तो है वफ़ा मुझसे
ना जाने क्यों फिर ज़िन्दगी से ख़फ़ा हु मैं…


Shaam ka dhalta sooraj hu main… 

Shaam ka dhalta sooraj hu main
Halki iss aag mei sulagta hu main
Raat ka andhera jab utar jaye
Mere iss tootey hue badan me
Sharaab ki botal mei doobti tishnagi sa jhoomta hu main
Iss geley kagaz per likhe sabad karte to ha wafa mujhse
Naa jaane kyun fir zindagi se khafa hu main…


English Translation:

I am the settling sun aglow 

I am the settling sun aglow
The half-lit embers burn me slow
When the dark descends and drowns me quite
Then gold does on my cracked lips flow
These dewy words do hold my faith
I hate this world and life even so…

Translated by none other than the talented, Himanshu Bhatnagar. Who, like always manages to keep the essence of the poem with its rhymes.


This poem is dedicated to the one who translated it. Yes, to Himanshu, on his birthday.
Wish you a very happy birthday once again, HB. You are awesome and stay the same, except those extremely insane things that you do, you know what I am talking about? 😀

Love and Regards,
Kritika Vashist

Psycho Alert!

Few months back I shared with you all how my recent search items on the blog mentioned that someone searched for, “Kritika name on boys hand,” “Kritika tattoo”. The boy still doesn’t know how to get the name tattooed, or perhaps he is afraid of the needle. It freaks me out realizing that it’s been more than 6 months and he is still not over her, or she still hasn’t accepted his love or weirdness, whatever one may call it.

To that guy who does this, Dude, carve the word weird on your hand, because she is not getting impressed by your idea, and instead read my melancholic poems if you like poetry. I bet that it won’t be a stupid idea!

Apart from this important information, I want thank everyone who takes out time, reads and comments on my posts. Since the time I have got busy with work to an extent where I just find enough time to complete work, eat and sleep, I have realized that how appreciable it is to read someone’s work and say kind words. Thank you all. Big hugs and love.
(If this message makes me a psycho, then the title to this post could not have been better.)

-Kritika Vashist

Long Nights

http://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-photo-pen-old-paper-image930885

The thoughts whirl around her head. The words wander on the sheet. While the bewitching moonlight smoothly falls on her face, she gazes at the stars of the midnight. She refills her ink pen and pours herself a drink.

Knowing of the nights that wake you up to the soft sunlight slinking into the room while you are awake, she whispers to herself, “This night is going to be a long one.”

-Kritika Vashist