Seems like 520 already.

I miss you

I miss the sudden cheek kisses you kept showering me with,

I miss the way your cold hands found home in mine,

And the way you swayed our hands and marched all the time.

I miss the way you hid your smile beneath that maroon mask

Or the way your eyes just never left mine.

Every time we meet,

There’s always this calm and peace inside me

Which doesn’t or hasnt ever happened ever in life.

Im still trying to find the right words to put the things i had planned to tell you

About the way you make me feel at ease

Or the way you understand my unsaid words too quicky all the time

Alas all i do is stare at you

Wish to see a bit more of those childlike eyes,

Your smile, like the crescent of the moon,

Radiates amongst my gloomy skies.

—T2 meet—-

“Cheers then?”

He sat infront of me, with his blackcurrent milkshake in one hand,

His fuller cheeks were as pink as those strawberries he has promised we’d try,

“Cheers to new beginnings?”

I Iooked at the smile he tried to hide behind the cup,

While his gaze still stuck on my eyes.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

I rested my palm upon my face, unable to speak, for my heart thumbed too loud,

“You look too cute today

And see, we color coordinated again this time!”

The thrill in his sweet voice made me smile,

he suddenly leaned a bit too close to me,

his once crossed legs suddenly engulfed my wobbly ones,

A leg hug it was indeed.

How i wish the time would stop, maybe rest on those wooden chairs and cheap milkshake piles

Or stop beneath the shade of the peculiar tree that swayed in May heat,

Yet his arms kept a cozy hold of me all the time,

I wish,

Maybe a little more of those smiles to crease

A little too many pecks on cheeks

Or the *mistaken dandruff* forehead kisses at times.

——-

I miss you, even though you’re far away you say

You’re still very much the first thing on my mind,

And present with me among the cold coffees i have,

when i gaze up at the naked stars and listen to kitne haseen zindagi hai yeh

Or the time i smoke your favourite cigarettes for it brings a bit closer to thee

You’re worth it all.

That’s all i have to say to you for this time.

– To the muse of mine :’)

Poem 56#

There’a broken tap in the kitchen sink,
It keeps shredding pellets of water at night,
Many tried to fix it,
To repair the seal.
Yet it remains broken.

But doesn’t leak during morning hours,
For mum ties it with a muslin cloth.

“See now? There’s always a way to fix broken things,” Maa proudly says,

“I wish temporary solutions would work that way,”
I continue with the dishes for the day
With the soggy old sponge, I start cleaning the dishes,
It has holes now, blobs of black dots surround its core,
Yet it scrubs away the dirt and cleans the vessels perfectly fine.

Maa’s favourite steel kadhai is blackened due to overuse,
It takes me more than a couple of mins to scrub a small patch of dot,

“Ugh this won’t go away, Maa!!”

“Oh it’s an old stain, it won’t leave this quick,”
maa reckons to me,

“Then what do I do?”

“Find a way to clean the black stain, Shibu.”

“But it’ll take a lot more time, too much work.”
I sigh,

“Then what do you wish to do?
Let the stain get darker and even more difficult to get off?”

Maybe she was right,
Maybe old stains never leave their shore easily after all.
Keep getting darker by day,
And harder to forget or erase.

-Shivani Dubey.

Random thought (3)

We’re all bold,

We’re all shy,

We’re all dull and boring

We are dynamic at times,

We’re all happy,

We’re all sad people living a colossal lie

It depends on the day, that moment “that time”

For sane individuals to ruin their perfect lives.

The paradoxical one.

She is unsure and uncertain in life, she wants a few things, yet doesnt want them too. She would initiate the conversation then feel it losing it’s sight and in time with her lack of effort, it’ll die.

For she knows they’d have many others whom they would talk to, she’d assume small things and get nervous all the time, “why did you type the Okay ♥️ as ok, / okay / k/ this time?”The others she wonders about the tone of their text and replies, “were they in a hurry or did they wish to talk to me after a while?”

“Why didn’t they use their regular emoji, or are they done with her hopeless plight?”

She deletes messages quite often too,for her anxiety tells her it sounds too rude or maybe not right, what if they feel bad? What if they read in between the lines? They cant see her vulnerable side.

Sudden calls from strangers scare her to death,do they expect a specific reply? Is hmm and haan and okay and yeah, fine? What if they feel she is not contributing to the conversation at all,her heart comes to her mouth, she feels like 1 year old, she babbles or mumbles or at times is inaudiblely loud.

At times,she is sure of her mind, sure of the things she has to say and feels about the people around, yes doubts and fear cross her mind, but her heart comes to resuce those times.

The others, her heart plays tricks on her mind, for it doesn’t understand the difference between infatuation or lust, confuses it with love and keeps her awake all night.

Yes she overthinks, she has scales of measurement for this overthinking too, a bit done every now and then seems fine, she takes overthinking breaks in between her day, thinks about the topic from all the sides and even tho the stimulus is out of her sight it still revolves in her mind.

Is it yes or was it no?”

She dislikes the term in between and people giving her ambiguous hues. She likes weird and confusing things for sure,

The puzzle the daily crossword, the sudoku hurl, the Rubik’s cube, confusing it may be for others but she’d try all the combinations and solve it overnight, and if not, then mess up the code and add more sequences to her plight.

At times she is nervous and shy,like the naive Caterpillar that transforms into a beautiful butterfly, she is oh so cautious and alert of her moves, never to harm a soul and usually complies.

The others she is bold and scary they say, like the moth, that’s as dark as the ruinous sky, you’d shoo her off, so that she doesn’t ruin your cashmere shawl overnight,

She’s reckless and wild, is attracted to dangerous people who often hurt her or leave her in the absence of light, is attracted to the feral fire that could burn her core, yet she wishes to go near it, to warm her numb soul.

…..

Life for her is a puzzle,

one cannot fathom right away

It is never truly black nor white,

At times it’s blue and purple, red and grey,

So arrange every piece that comes your way,

And that’s how she lives her life, everyday.

Poem 39 # ( Why the moon?)

They tell her how the moon is a lone being,

How he usually wanders off, runs away free.

So why would she like something that’s so distant, so cold

and appears when he wishes to be seen?

Maybe they fail to see that it shines in the caliginous sky,

It radiates even among the stars, so bright

It evolves everyday, develops each night

Until it emerges as a new being, on full moon nights.

Maybe the light that it brings wouldn’t lighten up their world,

But for her the Moon’s light, is a peaceful sight,

One which makes her happy and makes her smile.

Nothing.

Do you ever feel nothing?

But it feels like it’ll break you from the inside?

But when asked to explain this feeling,

All you end up saying is nothing?

Random musing

We were sitting beside the tree that was once green and lively

But was chopped down for exceeding her limits.

He was writing something in his diary,

I tell him how the tree won’t grow up to be as tall as she was before,

Nor would she ever be jolly or free.

He said nothing but just smiled at me,

His blue eyes lit up, like the beautiful sky in the sun’s light.

Well there’s always hope, you know?’

And how’s there hope for something that’s dead already?

He then points out to the little bud that grew along the broken bark,

Cant you see that this is not the end, but just the beginning of something more beautiful?