Posted in award, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, criticism, dreams, feelings, hate, hatred, humanity, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, peace, personal, poetry, quotes, self-help, short story, social, story, style, writing

You Were Perfect

The innocence of a child

Passion beyond wild

You were perfect

You were mine

A year passed

Then two

The fire within us fresh

You were perfect

You were mine

My belief in you

Was like a rock

As strong as our love

Then one day

You weren’t so perfect….

You weren’t mine anymore

You weren’t the truth I knew

You were someone beyond my dreams

You weren’t so perfect my dear

My heart shattered

Not because of your indifference

But because you were not the truth

Not the belief I had

You weren’t so perfect my dear

Oh! How I wish

I could open my heart to you

To show you how I look at you

As pure as a child

But, you weren’t so perfect my dear

Your lies hurt not because you lied

But because you need not to

Your every thought good or bad

I can take it as it is

You were so perfect my dear

You were my pride

My heartbeat that kept me going

I hope you to see you one day

As when I started to know you

You were so perfect my dear

So perfect.

Love,

H ❤️

Advertisements
Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, brotherhood, childhood, criticism, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, online journal, peace, personal, poetry, quotes, self-help, short story, style, Uncategorized, violence, writing

From where I stand

From where I stand

I see a rose

Dazzling in the sunlight

Engraved in poise

From where I stand

I see a perished leaf

A little life left

Magnificent in its grief

From where I stand

I see an empty pot

The mud in it calling

Leaves that have been left to rot

From where I stand

I can feel the wind

And the sunlight in full bloom

Sweeping off my untamed hair

Abundant warmth to decimate my gloom

From where I stand

I see a world

Where beliefs are engraved in hearts

From where I stand

I see a world

That does not follow the herd

Love

H 💖

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, criticism, diary, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, online journal, peace, personal, poetry, quotes, self-help, story, style, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

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 ❤️

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, diary, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, inspiration, Life, love, love poetry, peace, personal, poetry, self-help, social, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

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❤️

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, criticism, diary, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, Life, love, peace, personal, self-help, social, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

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.

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, childhood, criticism, diary, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, Partition, peace, personal, poetry, self-help, story, style, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

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❤️

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, childhood, criticism, dreams, independence, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, peace, personal, poetry, self-help, style, Uncategorized, writing

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 ❤️

Posted in award, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, diary, dreams, feminism, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, online journal, peace, personal, poetry, self-help, social, style, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

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

 

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, india, indians, interviews, Life, love, love poetry, Partition, peace, personal, poetry, religion, self-help, social, story, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

Sorry That I Failed You

Even the tears,

The ever flowing tears,

Have dried on my face,

Leaving indelible marks.

 

The pain in my heart,

Which evoked once,

Has gotten into my conscience,

I cry, I cry.

 

Oh! My Rohingya brothers,

My beautiful sisters,

And our innocent children,

I am sorry that I failed you.

 

They left you floating,

In lakes and rivers,

Lifeless,

I could see you all helpless,

But all I could do was nothing..

 

Your feet bled,

Whilst you crossed the barbed wires,

Their gunshots piercing through your body,

Your cries, oh! your helpless cries.

I am deeply sorry, I failed you…

 

For days,

Your belly was without food,

Families lost,

Some completely washed,

In the Bay of Bengal.

I am sorry that I failed you.

 

Dear son, how we rejoiced,

The first day of your school,

Never a thought crossed our mind,

That it will be your death pool!

 

He stabbed you once,

He stabbed you twice,

I failed you little munchkin,

I silenced your beautiful voice.

 

They shot an ideology,

They shot her voice.

Dear Gauri Lankesh,

But why are you still alive?

 

Their only aim was,

To bury your alighted mind,

But little did they know,

They’ve alighted millions of lives.

 

Who are they?

Cut from the same cloth, right?

Members of the same family.

But lagging in foresight?

 

This world has enough pain,

Enough souls who are suffering.

Please stop adding to that number.

Please, enough with the plundering..

 

And all I can ask,

Is for your forgiveness.

It is my utterly shameless silence,

That has created a world so VICIOUS.

 

Asking for forgiveness,

H ❤️

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, childhood, criticism, diary, dreams, hate, hatred, Life, love, peace, personal, self-help, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

Agony Of A Chopped Tree

I was planted,

Then I was watered.

I was taken care of,

With undying love.

 

The world was a sanctuary,

Full of nothing but merry,

Where I could rejoice,

And have my own voice.

 

Then I started to spring,

And heard a bell ring.

They are on their way!

But I can’t even run away!

 

“Who would come for my help?”

I couldn’t resist but yell.

The thumping of their feet,

Echoing a drumbeat.

 

Chop! Chop!

The first of my branches dropped..

Ruthless maneuvering I could see,

Nobody to help a feeble tree.

 

This went on,

For long.

I was in utter pain,

Alas! It was their reign.

 

I was told to serve others,

And in the process self-smother.

Their faces had grins,

While I was dying from within..

 

Who do I tell that I want to grow?

And not to become an art of Michelangelo.

Their craftsmanship would cut me into dices.

And they would all call me priceless!

 

My agony was their ecstasy,

And it was my only legacy.

To serve, I was nurtured,

In the end, brutally murdered..

 

XOXO,

H ❤️