My Art?

So, I see you, in the portrait that you have painted of yourself.
But oh my dear boy, don't you remember, you borrowed those colors from me?

You may ask, why, oh why, did I loan out my inimitable colors to you?
No, I don't have a reply, none whatsoever, save that, I love you...

In my dreams, several times, I have painted you, your face, your smile,
In hues unknown, in shades resplendent, all of it my creation.

That's not how it is, is it? For you have it fixed, have it all planned,
And when I see her smile, her hair, so secure, I fall, out of love,
Or try to...

Love, strange, love bizarre.
Love irrevocable.
For you.
And distress,
In my life.

You shall never be my
Art.

I shall be a star, staring down at a river below.
I shall be a scar, among the wrinkles that age on you, will bestow.

I shall be lurking , beneath your smiling eyes
I shall be planting, soft kisses on your hands, under dreamy October skies.

You shall never be my
Art.

Not my art.
But my love.
My life,
Forever.

Causing heartaches,
Bruising my fantasy-lores.

I have woven satin nights for you,
I have seduced the fallen angels for you...

For you,dear Luke.
I am your fool.

Not Simple Math

Even as a child, I was never convinced by the possibility of ‘forever’. I always knew nothing is for the keeps for an eternity. Every good thing has to come to an end, invariably. Relationships, friendships, success, career, life. Everything slowly reaches crescendo, and then fades out. Age didn’t need to teach me that. What I have learnt, however, is that the fading out is not necessarily painful, emotionally stressful or traumatic. Rather, the transition occurs naturally, and before one realizes, the process has already occurred. So, on the one hand, while there is no pain, on the other, there is also no way turn the tide of events and go back to how it was before.

In Class Three, I learnt, Distance=Time*Speed.
Sheer simple mathematics.
There was a teeny tiny corollary that was never taught, however.
Time increases the distance.
Always.

Teen-End.

I don't like orange clothes or Mathematics, but I love Hindi romantic films and rainy days. I am extroverted, and I love being around people. I like to break out in song and dance in the middle of roads. I have got weird unmanageable hair and the longest natural eyelashes from among all the people I know. Also, I don't like communicating over phone. Hello, I'm Ritwik, and today is the last day of my teenage :-)

All Over Again.

Obsess over one to the point of being haunted by one's form and soul.
Day in and day out. Wait. Pine. All In servile gratification.
All in the hope for the beginning of that never-before-experienced journey.


“It feels so right now, hold me tight,
Tell me I'm the only one,
And then I might,
Never be the lonely one.”

Prayers. Agony. Remorse and Regret.
And then move on.

Turn back to realize the intensity of the darkness lurking inside the cave that was just abandoned.
And what about a similar darkness in the one that has been stepped in right now?

They are equals in ways, aren’t they?

Results declared.
I fare miserably.
I mean almost miserably. Fifty Three.

Upset. But Relieved.
Parents almost glad. Supportive, in ways.
There is no way I could have done better with the fort night long preparation.

If you did well, you can be happy for yourself. Check me, even I’m happy for you.
As for me, I’m just waiting to fly away. From this nest, with the horrible pokey-twigs to one with delicate cotton-boll-lining.

Or is even that a mirage?

:) or :(

Among all my friends, some are falling in love, and for others, there are heartbreaks. Some are so happy while others are breaking down trying to deal with issues of their own. How helpless can someone get at times? Two friends got together today, after days of deliberating whether the question should be asked or not. And then there are some coping with rejection, a few more dealing with break-ups and heartbreaks, and some residing on an a different plane of disaster altogether...