Were you there?

When I walked the roads alone in the moonlight
I know you have been there by my side
Listening to the muted secrets of the night
Hand in hand ... under the moonlight!

It is when my words went dumb
And my eyes were so numb

To you my heartbeat did sing
All my regrets and unsaid sins

You kept still... did not speak
Just synchronised your footsteps with my heartbeats

It made me feel like you could relate
It made me feel like you did try to soothe my hearts' haste!

And when the highs all vanished
And they tear removed its illusionary blemish 
Still nothing could I see
Niether the water... nor the pains!
Niether my soul ... nor you!

Were you there... ever?

The MAN!

They say he is a MAN
For he has never had a tear in his eye!
His tremendous esteem never let him cry
Yes he is a MAN they say!

It is true that he did not cry
When he tipped and hurt himself by a brick!
It is true that he did not cry
When his favourite car fell into the ditch!

And when he fell too hard in love
And his heart broke ... to the world he did not cry!
On seeing her beloved flow tears of seperation
His heart did not fill his eye!

From her little daughters' first smile
A tear did not happily approach his eye
To the time when
He saw his child go far away .... miles and   miles ...
He still had those eyes dry ...

Fake... false... these are all lies!
To him it is merely an imposed attire...
The room he entered with a lush of pride
Was filled with regrets and mourns inside!

No I say
He never was a real man!
He was just a piece of iron or steel
Which only to his master flame did melt
In darkness... the companion of his dread!

Real men do cry
They express ...
Their eyes do they never hide
Within the muted darkness of the night!
Yes real MEN do cry!

The Abode

Footsteps that once played beats of happiness
And harmonised with the orchestra of autmn leaves
Today stand at the doorstep playing their final beat...
Performing the concluding note of years spent at this place ... together!

From day one to year 21...
It has been long days and long nights,
And today has come the time to leave...
A tough goodbye we bid to this house
For milestones ahead await ...
With new stories... new moments... fresh ways!!!

And now as I crossed the verandah gate
A tear unknowingly just escaped
Out of my eye...
Urging me to look back just one last time!

I turned ...
And unconciously peeped ...
Through the open door... where the light surpassed!
The unclear tear had gifted me one last glimpse,
Of the stories we had together carved...  
As a big happy family!

From talking about childlike glass-break tragidies,
To gossiping and eating meals!!
From serious scoldings ... to instant laughter remedies!
All this is now fading off... but this memory will forever last!

And now when we leave,
The table... the chairs... the ornamental walls..
Unexpectedly have come to life
Just to bid us a hearty goodbye...
With a fake promise of meeting soon!
Another meal... another upcoming moment full of life... together... on the same table!

We pray to the moon and stars up high
May your gaurdian light
Protect our piece of shelter... this house always!
May springs, autumns, winters and heat...
Play the same tones of happiness and bloom,
The baton of life to you... dear nature,
We release!

Toys... not just playthings!

They used to talk to me with muted lips
They used to dance on my naive beats
They used to be my soft support when I fell
They played in my lap like babies in a shell
When I myself was the little girl
Who talked to mum with unclear words!

And today when I stand alone in that room
They lay on my bed
As if playing with the dust...
But the sand to me is their lust!

Their hands and legs are still in place...
Covered under the lustily dirty face...
But their cottony heart inside I know
Has waited with utmost hope
Of seeing me - their little mommy back home!

Yes I know they have waited all this while
And today when I am back home
They have greeted me
With that same big smile
Yes... they have talked to me
Yes ... they have played with me
Because their lifeless heart is still that lively
That beats for me in my imaginary world
They ... my toys ... my all time fantasies!

Music...

For the ones whose hands aren't free to feel
For the ones whose eyes aren't ready to see
For the ones whose ears aren't open to hear
The beauty ... the rhythm that for them flairs!

The natural beauty you wander in
For you will it certainly sing
Sing the songs of life to you...

The autmn leaves would play notes of love,
The flowers will then merrily dance ...
The birds high above will sing the song...
And the air too will circle around...
Bouncing you higher to dance to its tones
Letting you harmonise to the music that has been prepared by the Gods,
For me ... for us ... for the human folk ...

Just give it a chance
Just put down your headphones for a while
And listen...
Raise your head out of the digital screen ...
And see ...
What you have missed all this while
What over there has forever been
Unnoticed, unseen!

- The_inkdiary

Wishlists

Wishlists ... why do people make them? 
The idea of wishlists has always fascinated me.
Wish-list: a list of all those wishes that hold a potential to make you happy, a list which when made brings out the innocent and child like honesty to the fore and somewhat ends up with a blushy pink line on your face.
For some, a wishlist is a piece of paper, having mugged up all the strong goals and aspirations of a person's life kept in a remote corner of a room saved from all the eyes around.
But for some it is a list of innocent desires that are waiting to be read by friends, family or someone who can pamper them!
The little child sitting deep in the heart always wishes to hide the scroll of your aspirations on the most obvious place... under the pillow. On the top of one's skin is an imposting desire of the list lying at its place unattended and unseen. But under that very cover is a bunch of butterflies running up and down waiting for the paper to magically vanish away (secretly read by someone! )

Pages...

I am afraid of flipping the pages of my inked diaries...
As in them lie the leaves...
Leaves of unsaid stories
Leaves of unattended thirst for glories
Leaves of unimaginable fears
Leaves full of bleeding tears

Pages inked with a watery heart
Lying unread ... untold... unclassed....

-The InkDiary