Late Night Thoughts- The Road

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Sometimes I wonder what if I have walked the road everyone thought was the only way to reach a place that seemed almost same in everyone’s eyes and gave almost the same perspective. Would life have been less difficult?Would I have been less troubled? Would the journey have been easy?
Sometimes I wonder what if I have chosen the conventional way to live a life, feeling alive despite being reticent about everything around. Would there have been someone to walk with, someone who could imbue the emptiness on the street…someone who could fill the silence between the imaginary walls? Would I have taken another turn in anticipation?

I don’t know where the road that I chose will lead me to. Will it be the mountains that I ever wanted to touch, or an ocean I always wanted to swim in, or nowhere. But I’m sure that the road I didn’t choose would have taken me to an insipid place, where they all go, losing themselves through a vile journey, and I’m sure that’s not where I ever wanted to be and ever want to be.

– Kritika Vashist

The Calling

Moonlight Ocean Painting
Beneath the bulge of your eyes
lays the yearning for his face
and on it lingers the reflection
of the moon to whom you recount.
At the corner his oceanic eyes
stand the waves, thirsty for you
that soon would flood the shore
because your moon bestrews
the ocean with all your epistles
inducing the waves to rush
until he reaches you,
until you hear his screech.
-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

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

Curse

Do not enter the room
you believe has been
filled with fragrance
of happiness
of chasing each other’s
dreams and ambitions;
when all it has is
biting melancholy
lining the brittle walls,
countless nightmares
seeking my lunacy,
a failed purpose
to come out alive.

Do not twine your arms
around my neck
and stare into my eyes
to unfold the reasons
of the gloominess
veiling their soul;
for my burning tears
will flood you in
perpetual darkness,
my failures
will haunt you
in your lively dreams,
my disappointments
will rupture your faith
in yourself
in love
maybe, everything.

Do not lie down with me
on heavy and blue nights
to plant a kiss
of solace and wanting
unaware of
the venomous words
inked on my hands
designed in my mind
destroying the peace,
your night arrives with
and howling in your
silent heart.

I am a secret
unhealed
untouched.
Do not forget me
as someone
who is her own curse.

– Kritika Vashist

Lost In You

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Lost in you, the silent night,
where there is peace and seclusion,
where just my heartbeats are audible,
where remembrance of your love is antidote for distress.
I’m loving you, in silence.

Lost in you, dreamy eyes,
where forever our soul entwine,
where we promise to love evermore,
where you are the reason for my existence.
I am loving you, in dreams.

Lost in you, the fragrant quilt,
where I feel your terraces,
where you twine a wisp of my hair,
where our souls couple.
I am loving you, in fancy.

Lost in you, eloquent words,
where you obliquely call me beautiful,
where I throb in happiness,
where you portray our unceasing love.
I am loving you, in poems.

Lost in you, serendipitous ditty,
where broken lyrics string with flair,
where unmusical voice gives pleasure sensations,
where stars are more soothing than the moon.
I am loving you, in songs.

Lost in you, the perfect drizzle,
where we sense each other’s texture,
where the clean water taper the friction,
where the music is pitter-patter of raindrops.
I am loving you, in rains.

Lost in you, the unembellished window,
where I feel the warmth of your eyelids,
where sunbeam makes you shimmer artistically ,
where the glass captures the real adoration.
I am loving you in lights and shadows.

Lost in you, the wondrous painting,
where my name forms the colours,
where a single word completes the picture,
where the thick ink fails to clog the outline.
I am loving you, in delineation.

Let me remain lost in you,
let me keep loving you;
for your love is heavenly!

-Kritika Vashist

(Feb, 2014)


(So, Arpita, a fellow blogger who nominated me for Libester Award asked me about my favorite post/poem, and I had realized that I haven’t share it with all of you. This is the poem I had written last year and is my favorite for some unknown reason. I just like it the way it is. )