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The Dark Room

Humid corners

Eerie noise

Intrigued by it all

I forget my poise

I traverse

Traverse into the room

Nothing appealing

Oh! It resembles a sad tomb

Yet a connection

A familiarity touches my heart

In spite of its ugliness

I just couldn’t depart

Nothingness filled it

Void and vacuum alike

Just like this heart

Which I call ‘mine’

The silence or the noise

Whatever you may call

This queer room is a canvas

Of my equally dead soul

Run! You may run

But I call it my own

Possessed in it completely

I can happily drown

H ❤️

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The Love of My Life

Engulfed in it.

Like a child,

Trapped in a building,

On fire.

Helpless,

Crying.

And then comes a point,

When the cries,

Fail to come out.

Slowly,

Gradually,

The breath rescinds.

And ultimately,

The child dies.

The remains,

That they cry over,

For hours,

Days,

And months.

Those remains,

Know nothing,

But of the liberation,

Of being breathless.

Being dead.

Death.

Oh dear, death!

I yearn for you.

I am waiting.

You take those,

Who hate you.

But the ones,

Who are ready to embrace,

Your tranquility,

You ignore them.

Why dear?

Why this injustice?

Why not give my soul,

The peace,

The vacuum,

The seclusion,

It is waiting for?

My remains,

Will lie,

In a bed full of flowers.

My soul,

For once,

Will be happy!

My mind,

Will be free of thoughts.

Thoughts, that killed me.

That took me away,

From everybody.

Take me.

Take me away.

Where you live.

A secluded place.

Where nobody expects,

Nobody betrays.

Dear death,

Give me this gift.

And I’ll shall forever,

Be your slave.

Love,

H❤️

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Life, As We Don’t Know It.

Three years ago, when people used to ask me, “What is your aim in life?”, my answer used to be, “To become successful so that I can take away the problems of this world”.

Three years down the lane, the problems are still there. Increasing. And those problems have crept into my life too. I’m frustrated than ever. Happiness, I don’t know of. When was the last time I was happy? I don’t know.

I wake up and I literally cry from the inside that I don’t want to go to work. My health is deteriorating.

AMBITION. What a powerful word. People used to say, “Hasmeet is so ambitious.”. And it used to make me feel proud. But that very ambition has made my life miserable. I’m working so hard on something that is the very reason why I’m miserable.

And on top of that, I do not know how to stop. I believe in the law of attraction so much. And I know I’m outta this job sooner than I’ve imagined. Following the herd is not always wise. Government job. Sounds like a lollipop. But it’s a bitter lollipop. The worst flavour you’ll find in the market.

Ah! My problems may sound so trivial to the ones who really need a government job. They’ll call me thankless. But life is not the same for everybody. I hate my bitter self. I curse people and that is something I really didn’t do earlier. On top of that, I curse myself. I doubt myself.

There are people who have bigger problems. Yes, people are dying of hunger, terrorism, hate crimes and what not. And I’m cribbing here about a job that is paying me well.

Well, I hate my ambitious self. I desperately want happiness.

H.

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Lillies

The sweet odour of roses

In hues of scarlet and cerise

Approved by the herd

For her it was unheard.

Lillies and their charm

Their beauty filled the whole farm

Long ombré petals

In their serenity she revels.

Lillies loved the care

With her they made a wonderful pair

The hues of orange, yellow and pinks

With joy, made her eyes blink.

They thought of her as a lunatic

Partly, because she’s always been a sidekick

And then she started comparing

The beauty of Lillies with the mighty roses.

There were questions and doubts

How on earth do her Lillies flout

The age old norms of roses

Being the best among all.

She sank deep into a jungle

Forgot the ethics to mingle

With the roses lovers

Her Lillies brutally murdered.

H❤️

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Illusionary Fall

As I tread,

Softly,

Into the woods,

Hazy night,

Moonlit,

Stars shining bright.

I see a squirrel,

Prancing down the bushes.

The carefree manoeuver,

The glee in its eyes.

All seemed unnatural,

In that nature’s paradise.

I walk closer,

Curiosity deepening in my mind.

As I reach for it,

I fall into a dark pit.

At first,

It was scarier than I thought.

But as I feel deeper,

It was freedom,

That engulfed my dreary heart.

I, for once,

Wasn’t complaining.

The fall, as it may seem,

Was a much awaited liberation.

I fell deep,

Deeper than it appeared.

And reached a moist spot.

I saw my own reflection.

I saw,

Beauty all around.

What is this place?

I thought.

Confused,

I forgot of the mighty fall.

Lilies, lotuses, roses,

And what not!

I couldn’t believe,

My luck. Oh God!

And the beauty,

The peace,

That I yearned for.

I could see it in the dark pit.

I experienced it,

Because of the fall!

Love,

H ❤️

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Untamed

You rise,

And fall,

And still go on.

 

You care,

You cry,

And still  manage to love.

 

You are power,

You are life.

But still treated as a mice.

 

The  beauty within,

Is unimaginable.

But still,

Your silhouette is what they savor.

 

You are the creator.

And the nurturer.

But your chains,

They tell a different story.

 

You are blamed.

You are tamed.

You are a prisoner,

In the hands of your creation.

 

They cheat,

They sly,

They rip off your mind.

And still,

With every single vein,

In your body,

Burning in flames.

You rise.

Rise like a Phoenix.

With love ever-flowing.

 

Oh! My love.

How? How on Earth?

How do you manage?

To be so forgiving?

 

They burnt you alive.

Threw you on a live pyre. 

Your own blood.

It just kept quiet…

 

You were draped.

In silks and cotton.

In long flowing skirts.

Hoping to shut your soul,

To a world full of potential.

 

Break this glass of illusion.

My dear.

Break it.

Let them typecast you.

Let them keep you in a cage.

 

You spread your wings.

Your beautiful, white hued wings.

And break free.

To reach the skies.

Skies full of your dreams.

 

Be your own creation.

And not the creator, 

Of ruthless dictators.

Who betray,

Lie,

And leave you in abyss.

 

You are the creation.

Of a world,

That belongs to you.

And not the puppeteers,

That you created.

 

You are,

Untamed.

 

Love,

H

 

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Sorry Neighbor.

I,

If I may,

Apologize.

I have been,

A devil in disguise.

 

Oh what ‘Aman ki Asha’?

What peace,

If I may ask?

My fellow countrymen,

A fallacy in which they bask..

 

I have killed love,

Harmony,

and every beautiful feeling.

I know hate,

Jealousy,

And why would I even conceal it?

 

Forget about a country,

Forget about a state.

The street that I live in,

There are many people I hate.

 

I may,

If I want to,

Wear a mask of love.

But really I’m a villain,

Benevolence, I don’t speak of!

 

And why,

Why on earth will I be ashamed?

And critical of myself?

Aren’t we all in this together?

How well we repel!

 

And teaching hatred,

To our kids.

Doesn’t sound so filthy.

“He did first, then I did”,

We find it healthy!

 

And isn’t this,

What’s going on?

From the past 70 years?

Blaming each other and all of the rest,

“Uh! The mistake is THEIRS!”. (always)

 

There are widows on both sides,

Childless parents,

And also orphans.

But who cares to budge, my dear,

We are totally okay with coffins!

 

Well,

We do shed a tear or two,

Whenever a soldier dies.

But the martyr can’t be yours,

‘Cause otherwise we will rejoice!

 

A fake motherland,

I like to worship,

With all my heart.

But only for a day or two,

Rest of the days I’m a total pervert!

 

Bring on,

The next 70 years now,

Shall we?

The nations we both so love,

Let’s turn ’em into a debris!

 

XOXO,

H

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Pakistan Kills 2, India Kills 2…

I was going about with my morning routine; tea, breakfast and reading newspaper. Then I came across this picture which moved me to tears….

An innocent kid weeping incessantly over the mutiliated body of his father. The question isn’t here who did it. The question here is why? And for how long????!!! 
Pakistan kills 2, India kills 2. 
Children from both sides become orphans. Women from both sides become widows. Hostility grows. And for what? Only to satiate the egos of a few politicians? What personal enmity you and I have with Pakistan? Or what personal enmity does a kid or even an adult in Pakistan has with us? Nothing! 
But this killing is unstoppable. Blood is shed over and over again. We discuss this over and over again. But who listens? 
Hate has made us hopeless maniacs. We follow the herd and join the ‘I Hate Pakistan’ club. Without even knowing why it came into being. Without even knowing our follies. 
But how does that matter to this little kid now? He has lost his father forever. A father, for god’s sake! I can’t imagine in my dreams living without my father. I commit mistakes. I prance around proudly. Why? Because I know my father is there to protect me always. 
But this kid’s father was there to protect to us all. And he died. Mercilessly. 
We weep when an Indian soldier dies. But rejoice when a Pakistani soldiers dies. Why? Wasn’t he a father? Or a son? Didn’t he have any family that will mourn just like this little kid?  
How can we be so negligent towards the emotions of their families? Why can’t we all come together and stand firm on the face of the governments of both the countries that we don’t want violence. If you guys have a problem, then just stop talking. Why kill innocent people from both sides??? 
My heart pains… 
Love and respect,

H💔

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My Journal: The Unconditional Love In My Life

What is unconditional love? Let me give you a perfect example. Perfect, because there can be no love as unconditional as this one.  

My mother gets up in the morning, and goes to the kitchen for two hours straight to prepare breakfast, lunch and snacks for me. 
My life has been pretty hectic these days. I stay at my workplace for a good 10 hours. And she makes sure that I’m doing fine. From cutting fruits for me to lunch and then my evening tea and snacks, she makes me wonder how she does it all. Instead of the fact that she, too, works as much as me (life of a banker). 

And to top it all, I was diagnosed with wheat allergy. But she hasn’t budged at all. Now she does double the work she was doing earlier. From making separate breakfast and lunch for me, she has given me a thousand reasons not to worry about my health condition. Ever since I’ve been diagnosed with this pathetic wheat allergy, she’s been hooked to YouTube to find about the dos and donts and the perfect diet.

 

Is there any love as unconditional as this? 
I don’t think so. 


XOXO,

H ❤️ 

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My Journal- Day 2

Today I came home early so I paid a visit to my nanaji. He was ecstatic to see me. And what really touched my heart was when he literally requested me to spend at least one hour with him on weekends.

 

Here I was, thinking, that nobody really needs me or feels happy around me and here I have, one of the most important persons in my life, begging me to come see him more often.

 

Life is, well, simple. Sometimes.

 

My co-workers detest me, to say the least. Every day I spend a good amount of time anticipating the reason why I am the most hated person at my workplace. And then there are some who brighten my day up and vice versa.

 

One thing struck my mind today. While ‘dealing’ with our fellow humans, we totally forget that they are humans! That they have complicated lives like us. That they go back to their deep, dark secrets and feel guilty. That they’ve been used. That they’ve been lied to. That they’ve been mistreated. That they’ve things they can’t really tell anybody.

And yet, we somehow, very easily indeed, blurt out harsh and mean words. And forget about being guilty about it afterwards.

 

Imagine a world, with clean air. Clean air. With no hate. No lies. A world that is painted in soft hues of pink and blue. With a tinge of greens and whites. Pastels all around. Happy people. Smiling at strangers. Youth helping the old. Clean air. Clean atmosphere.

 

Well, the chances are really bleak. But fantasies never hurt. Humans never hurt if treated properly.

 

What have we all become?

 

XOXO,

H