Thoughts to Words

Welcome 2018 A cauldron of sins, Forgiven after pilgrimages, Bathing in rivers, Confessions within four walls, Penance and anecdotes of healing. Bygones burnt into ashes, In some cases buried. Demons cursed, Angels applauded, Yin and yang- Contrary forces, albeit complimentary, Domiciled in the same philosophy. New Year's Eve and the hype, As if history will never repeat itself, "Anyway, Happy New Year and God bless!" Cannot escape some clichés you see. ©songbriti

A mushy love story's protagonist? Spare me the honour, I cannot to justice to it. In an unscripted meeting, When I crack sarcastic jokes, Read between my lines, You will know what you mean to me. When I have mood swings, Fluctuating abruptly, Switching off Zen mode, To staying fixated on Jungli mode, Screaming, "Cut the jazz and leave!", And, I do not bother apologizing, Look behind my ego, You will know what you mean to me. Once in a blue moon, When I message you first, Asking you, "Are you alive or dead?" Try measuring my emotions, I am more than sure, Never will you ever know, The intensity of my love for you. ©songbriti

Writers caressing their muse, Carrying a bag full of unrefined ideas, Breathing in air full of passion, A place I would love to be born in. Where an umbrella is a colourful prison, People fall in love with the rain instead, Soaking in all the inspiration. Mother Nature guiding stories, Where the mind is the best camera, An eidetic memory is always working, Clicking images of love and peace. Where a map shows several paths, But they all lead to one destiny. Where every heart owns a bunch of keys, Keys which unlock dreams. Dreams which behave like mirror neurons, Making utopia the only reality. ©songbriti

Going gaga over New Year's Day, Resolutions and celebrations, La la la! Dance and sing aloud! A new life, a new beginning, A brand new pinch for the new dress! Radiating richness and wealth. Down the same lane, 31st December or 1st January, Dates make no difference to them. Where the fulfillment of basic needs, Like food, water, oxygen and? And use high speed internet, Ask 'Google' to fill in the blanks. A divide between two worlds, Is a constant. Politicians and gold diggers, Their traits won't change. Sponsors of 'Hunger Games', Awesome hollywood reference! Oops sorry! I am such a spoilt sport. Please carry on with your valuable day! ©songbriti

On my heart you poured a paint, A red one, Wine coloured, Apparently representing love, Recoating it thickly and keenly, Your efforts seemed real. On New Year's Eve- I ran towards your treehouse, With excitement as pure as wine. A pair of stilleto heels coloured black, Were lying on the grass, Heard a hearty laughter the next minute, I decided not to disturb you. The silent night was perfect, It was ideal for new lovers, Lovers- who were "made for each other." My teardrops had a moisturel effect, The paint which drugged my heart, Cajoled it to trust sheer lies, Was washed away swiftly. Corroded and utilised, Strong heart- it still worked for my life, And, continued beating competently. ©songbriti

"Are you an atheist?", they asked with an expression of annoyance and disappointment on their faces when she refused to bow down in front of the magnificent deity. She didn't justify her behaviour to them. Neither did she care to clarify their doubts about her being an atheist or an agnostic. She believed in a belief which was the truest depiction of reality.        "Maa, your divinity has always embraced me and protected me. How can I be an atheist or an agnostic when the creator of my universe is always infront of my eyes.", she said and sought her mother's blessing inside the temple. Tears rolled down her mother's cheeks as she reminisced about the days of her child's infancy.                                                 Everyone is answerable to the Almighty for their deeds and this child too did not deviate from the 'Rule Book'. ©songbriti

Digging out ghastly details of the past has no advantage at all. You know it, the universe knows it and I know it too. "Move on.", "Get over it.", "Live in the present."- these words have beautifully woven motivational lines that have made it to my list of favourites. I preoccupy myself with laughing out loud. Laughter therapy without any expert guidance is what I often try. Apart from practising how to hahahaha, I also indulge in penning words, reading books that succeed in grabbing my interest and watching inspirational videos on the internet. All this for "Moving on." , "Getting over it." and "Living in the present." Feels good for sure. It is as if my mind is a supermodel who is walking on a cake with a confident face. Smooth day. "Peek-a-boo, we are back." Says who? The night, the past and the ghosts. All of them shouting in chorus. And before I can defend my present, the gate of the unconscious room is pushed

I do not want anything specifically and temporarily for Christmas. Make up your mind first, then pick a day of your choice and gift me all your loyalty permanently. ©songbriti

Be the Santa Claus who carries infinite love in his bag, pour it on hearts which feel like a desert. May celebrations be evergreen in their lives. ©songbriti

Lachrymal tsunami flowing thirstily, Secreting lament, An insurgency to topple torment, Held back once, Insurmountable at present. I would be honored to remind you, Getting carried away is bootless. Misperceptions are common, Evaluate thy decisions with patience. Breaking down and cribbing, Easy-peasy but not worth it. Fight the disaster, On the inside and outside too. You are the ocean, You are the wave, Channelize thy power in the right inlet. Shed no tears for them, Invest thy love on humans who truly care. ©songbriti

"Where is my heart?" Invisible much. Covered with pain, Which is its coffin. There is a river within, Where heartbeats act as currents, Reducing the ache it feels. The intensity rises and falls, People come and go, Curiously enquiring about my heart, Failing to observe that it is buried alive. ©songbriti

Harsh winter stealthily enters, Choking the scorching sun. Snow giggling incessantly, Gossiping with the pine trees. The scourge of changing seasons, Is suffered by all. Permitting it is never a choice, Hunting for healing unavoidably is. A matter of habit so addictive, And we conveniently curse time! Sit back on your rocking chair, Passively watch the cycle moving. One gains control, The other becomes a slave. Raising concerns? Spare yourself from excess baggage. Perpetual wars, Swords sharpened with egos, Laced with ruthlessness, Crumpling each other's strengths. My idealistic friend, Santa Claus is on his way, Sing carols, make wishes, Continue being happy and ignorant. ©songbriti

The torn papers smiled with joy when the writer's novel finally found a perfect ending. ©songbriti

Body disposed, Clues destroyed, Case close, Shadow followed, Karma onboard, Trickster trapped, Case reopened, Grave dug, Crime buried, Avenged murder, Life settled. ©songbriti

"Grow up! Will you?" This silly question had an underlying tone of a command. It actually seemed like a joke to her. That one statement fancily dressed as a question was not only annoying, but it also gave her a valid reason to grow a lot more stubborn. Stubborn in the right sense. She was the best version of herself. Being the best version does not indicate that she was perfect. It was a version which made her she smile genuinely whenever she looked at the mirror. The version which had a sense of humour that could make her friends laugh out  loud. She learnt from her mistakes, rectified them and progressed at her own pace. She did not participate in rat races. Humans don't need to either, they just choose to. If she grows up or even intends to do so, she will no more be the best. Let her be, pamper the child that dwells in her soul. The child who loves creativity. Do not force her to update this version of herself, you never know the disaster that might come along with

Hands smothered in clay, Artistic work in progress, A little bit of suspense is left, Imagination will be given life. Breathing-taking features, Passion flowing in speed, Through the veins and arteries, Persuasively, perfectly, persistently. Carving out the minutest details, Emitting aesthetic pleasure, Art blessed with adeptness, Formed a majestic beauty. ©songbriti

Is there an exit door? Rebelling, screaming, calming down. I have tried it all. Locking the demons, Burning their core, I have tried it all. Forgetting, forgiving, resigning, Starting afresh, I have tried it all. I am here writhing in pain, Imprisoned in this dungeon, I tried my best to alter this fate. ©songbriti

A masterpiece is born, Exceptionally stunning. Keep the bait ready, Compel the world, Entice 'em, Push everyone into a trance like state, Assure me that they will yell, "Your highness. We choose you as our queen." ©songbriti

Canopy of the forest, Dense and huge, Sunlight pours in, Graceful and tranquilizing. Scattered hope; those rays- Such powerful energy. The mist, that novice, Escaped and hid in a place far away. Drifting towards the end, Tiny droplets, Dainty darlings they were, Engulfed in an illusion, Incognizant of what power is, Survival means survival, Unquestionably, you dare not try to rule. ©songbriti

You can plagiarise someone's work, Garner all the praise- Which you are desperate for. Receive an award, Earn money, eat honey, Enjoy that fame, For you will be a well-known name. Huh, is this your occupation? Or childhood ambition? To be a thief, Get everything through stealing. Pangs, do you feel them at night? When you are about to sleep... Your inner conscience is talking to you. It knows, You are not meant for this. Please get the hell out of this tragedy! Be an artist, not a thief. Time to burst your bubble, Plagiarism is not an art, It is treachery. ©songbriti

Someone observed my behaviour and drew a conclusion that I have forgotten to love myself. A friend of mine read a short story that I wrote yesterday and understood that I am comfortably numb. Being numb and yet comfortable, what a bizzare condition! I believed music has the superpower to evoke emotions. I tried healing myself with it last night. Tears were what I required, I wanted music to help my tears flow. Tears that would bring back pain. Pain that would trigger my emotions. Emotions that would make me cry without any hindrance. I forced my heart to feel the music and pain too. I literally begged my eyes to react. How lazy are they I wondered after a couple of hours passed by and they still refused to react whatsoever. It's like they were hell-bent on carrying out something identical to the Non-Cooperation Movement. The playlist on my phone continued playing some selected songs on loop. What an absolute waste of time it was. Therefore, I unplugged the set of earphones and ga

"What's wrong with you?", people interrogated. By people, I mean my family and a few close friends. Who else would be interested in what we call a common person. Not the media for sure cause my  story would obviously not succeed in creating a tempting headline! Nor, the psychiatrist unless I decide to take an appointment and consult him/her. A few months back, I knew what was wrong with me. I had this ability and capacity called self-awareness. Right now, I am not sure if I still possess it. With time, I lost all the answers and again with time I also quit asking questions. In the past I loved talking to myself. Today, myself and I share this peculiar awkwardness. Days or nights, dawn or dusk, life or death nothing makes a difference. I am not happy. I am not sad. I am not angry. I am... Seriously, what's wrong with me? God! I don't know and I am in no hurry to find an answer either. ©songbriti

We meet everyday, Through words, Or, blank pages... ©songbriti

And you my man- I have invested my trust and love on you, You are not going to let me down, Not today, nor tomorrow or even after I die. This is a lifetime deal. ©songbriti

Intoxicated by love, A grand wedding took place, Woo-hoo! What a day! They were lawfully married. Romance and honeymoon, Anniversaries and dates, "Aww, so cute.", The world loves this clichéd compliment. Time for an interval. Then the expected happened... Woefully, logic came their way, Their brains were detoxified, The happy ending was an accident, Dr. Sense further handled the case. Everything's under control, Divorce "aww-fully" saved them. @songbriti

Be loud. No one's listening? Be louder. Still no response? Be the loudest. Scream your lungs out. I was just kidding! I thought you already knew, Silence is the new loud once you're dead. ©songbriti

A four year old, Then a teenager, Even the elderly are not spared. Crime against women– A plague. I am confirmed, this won't end. Criminals are thick skinned, Do I need to mention, Our country's law is impotent, It has no balls. The former line is a fact. The floor is open; Prove me wrong, I will humbly accept my defeat, If you can make even one woman say, "I feel completely safe." ©songbriti

Scoop out all that determination, Spare no nook and corner. The heart has to find its happiness, Atleast let it try. ©songbriti