A day prior to the judgement day, I’d still be writing about you. You’ll be visible in my bones and ashes You’ll remain my only truth. Beautiful and gloomy, That day, as I imagine would be similar to our old fashion tale. I’ll carry you within myself, Oh! So safe. You’d own your tiny shelter inside of my world. The world we called ours. A day prior to the judgement day, I’d still be smiling at you. Ayrisha Sepaha Advertisements Continue reading ;
Look, there is development, running ahead of India and there is our nation chasing it, by all means. Undoubtedly, India is and will be linked to a better tomorrow and a better nation. However, what takes a toll on me and many other minds akin to me, is that decorating the house from the outside is all? Keep the lavish furniture and extravagant weapons of flaunting the wealth, is that all? Wasn’t it about people making a house, an actual home? Well, we all know the answer. It’s obviously rhetorical and obviously visible how I keep it as an example. … Continue reading Governed or entirely dependent?
“It appears to me as, Belongingness is the home we seek, people feed our souls. You are warmed by that blanket yet you crave for arms, beloved arms. You want someone else to drop you home, to greet you good morning. See, you want obvious things to be told in the most unique way possible. No wonder how home became a feeling over time and house remains just a place. Evolution hits emotions as well. Do you notice how vulnerable you are to vulnerability? Strength isn’t about hiding weaknesses, but it qualifies for escape. So much at your ease. You … Continue reading Says
“I’m afraid, I was terribly immature to believe, That friends and strangers are the same things. To believe that religion is worship and worship is peace. To believe maturity and age share a directly relation. Oh how shallow I have been, I feared pain And mishandled happiness. I used materials more than senses. I blamed time, every bloody time. I have kept my dreams clandestine and demons revealed. I have been embarrassed of my past but not of my sins. Oh how foolish I have been, To cherish similarities in the entire dissimilarity. To die each day remaining affected by … Continue reading lines you DON’T wish to see on your grave.
My mighty little mind, Uncage me. You’re disastrous You’re bitter You’re real And you see, real is unacceptable. This world only pretends to adore things it cannot handle at all. My mighty little mind, I need a little more than oxygen to breathe, I need life. I find it absurd to hide my loud emotions behind louder music. And I pathetically fail to find comfort in all these comfortable situations. I fail to comprehend, How people admire depth only in abstract, How closeness is all about personal spaces And how possession is all about things. How expressing is limited to … Continue reading 4 AM Monologues.
“Time is constant and different at the same time.” she said. “There are times when it takes double the efforts to accept the end of a certain story than it took to actually live it. There are times when you close your eyes to find yourself watching the faded clips of your favourite moments, deliberately on repeat. There are times when you watch the fire inside you unleashing more each day, Yet you decide to consume it, Hide it and let it burn your own self subtly. There are times when the fear of this world and people intimidates you … Continue reading An excerpt, maybe
I greet everyone, people I have known, people who have known me and the rest connected ones. I am going to end my life. I am quiet certain about my decision, which by the way is an outcome of not sheer depression, but knowledge. Knowledge of everything and everyone closely enough to end up disliking it all. Knowledge of differences between lies and real lies. Observation and a vibrant mind, these have been my strength which ironically lead me to be this weak, or I’d say made me a quitting person. I have had days of my life, where I’v … Continue reading One Hypothetical Death Note
You had me at Goodbye I remember you, My person as you were. I could see how sometimes, A few emotions are just so much connected to a single person that they live along and die as that person leaves. Now, I carry graves. I remember, How you watered lilies and waited for roses to blossom. How you knew everything, every time Until, it was too late. I remember, How you made promises And I kept them always Only to find myself holding the most volatile designation in your life. I could see how people lie between those true lines … Continue reading You had me at the Goodbye you made.
You are an art I discovered, in this journey of time. I recollect memories As when I drew these dark images Struggling to express my own definition of happiness and life. Through the only colour I had, black. Yet, I made improper shapes and proper details. Complicated and serene. Purest of my emotional velvet, green. I kept these imaginations and stories clandestine I had least hope to find silhouettes, I created In someone I can call mine. And then, I met you, Dear most. Your reflections and rhymes. Your oldest soul shined, Spreading glitters to those black, deep black drawings … Continue reading My Silhouettes, Your Shine.
Dearest, If you’ve chosen me, you must be non routine. If you’ve fallen in love with me, you must be brave. As I scribble through these lines trying to pour a rather framed, fabricated version of all the disaster that I carry, I would mention that If I hold you today, I’ll hold you even tighter tomorrow. I’d be interested in everything you are scared to reveal. I’d observe what you speak when you look for silence Or what you feed yourself when you are more than hungry Or maybe where exactly you hide your demons. I’d count not your … Continue reading A Raw Love Letter.