#3

Hush, there!
Look at 'em, now:

Silently slithering
Through sordid streets
Into rabbit holes
And out of opium dens.

Here they go,
These heathen children-
Thirsty for more.
Seeking the unfound
Stories that lost
Themselves, somehow
In the dervishing whirls of time.

Let me follow their trail
A little while longer
Let me
Breathe their
     heat
Sing their
     nights
Touch their
     joyful-half-baked-dreamsoftomorrow.

Let me go
For a minute more
To taste wildness
In a world
That knows not
Of the word: Caution.

#2

"I cut a sorry figure,"
He thought, walking away,
Leaving behind the smell of her
In the sweet demise of the day.

Always too weary to care,
He dragged his body through the night,
Ignoring the incessant ignoble stare
Of soulless sight, born of dim desperate light.

fumbled for keys, dropped them to the floor.
picked them with shaky hands, unlocked the door.

and stepped into the cold expectant shade
of the sanctuary of mindless servitude that he'd made.

The bare walls still accused him,
The lighter patches of paint want their hangings back.
The bowler, the fedora, the wide-brim
Are no more there, but just shadows on the rack.

The nude floor felt chill against his skin
(He'd sold the carpets too, when the need was bad.)
Pawning was okay, 'coz stealing is Sin,
But he'd long ago sold all that he had ever had.

went back again, bolted the latch.
stripped off his clothes, chuckled "Now we match."

fumbled in pocket, brought out the Bag.
sniffed it deeply, let his shoulders sag.

He'd tried hard, again and again,
Till he broke himself on the rocks of misery.
A shiver racked his spine, worse than pain;
Drear realisation: "I'll never be free."

Through Sweat and Chills and Madness
He found Water, and Needle, and Fire.
Weak is the mind, weaker is the flesh-
Always allured by all-consuming Desire.

sitting, humming, "Hello, cold turk, my old friend,
we've come a long way, here's the end."

watching Water boil, pouring Packet in.
fumbling again in coat, for the tiny sip of gin.

He looked down
At the veins, streaked blue, green and shame,
The telltale pinpoint scars, the druggie's crown
Made of white Snow and Futility and Flame.

Everything was done, and so was he-
Empty man in empty room of void shadow.
He looked down in morbid melancholy
Leisurely life well-wasted, but no Keepsake for the Show.

sighed a little
    and plunged the needle
sighed some more
    all thought turned null.

looked for a memory, tried to cry
or move a bit, or laugh, or sigh.

NOTHING but potent ecstasy,
NOTHING but an endless fall.
      nothing to hold on to, nothing to lose
      nothing to try to live for at all.

#1

As the chilly, clammy night
Presses insistently on my skin again
             In a darkness that
               silently declares its entirety
                 so as to drown out
                   all cries
                     for Help.

As I let my lead-weighed, deadweight
Body succumb to exhaustion
                             I want to stand
                          a minute longer
                        so as to reach out
                      and call
                    for You.

And maybe I could tell you

That your fears are valid,
And the fright is real,
But your nightmares hold just as much power
As you let them.

That the Noise of the world
Is really just made of several silences
And every silence is eager to tell its Story
If you care to listen.

That the sobs that wrack your body sometimes
Are reflected a million times everywhere,
But the questions that stare back at you in the mirror
Are yours alone.

That most of your education was lies.
That pain isn't necessary to know of pleasure.
That the Universe doesn't really give a shit.
That Karma isn't real.

That it is your insignificance
In the greater scheme of things
Which lets you be gloriously SIGNIFICANT
For just the tiniest of moments.

That heartbreak is as bad as it sounds
And all morality is overrated.
Because all your truths, and mine, in the End
Belong to a larger lie.

That failure, once or many times, comes cheap
But surrendering is unaffordable.
That the men who refuse to meet your eye
Will never meet your expectations.

That the little girl peddling a rainbow of flowers
Never had a real chance at anything
And she is a reminder of how unfair life is
And how lucky you are.

That somewhere between heresy and blind belief
Our fear of the Inevitable End ties us together.
That women everywhere around the world
Have pretty eyes.

That I have tried hard and long
To make you believe in this one life you own,
And I hope the unbearable ecstasy of being pervades your days
And lets you sleep at night.

That as the night grows darker than darkness
I know you know all I could've told you
But I hope you're still around
To let me help you
To help me somehow.

A Revival

I have decided to restart this blog again after a while.
I encourage you to ignore all the weird shit that is published beyond this post, because
A> They were written by 2008 me, who was a semiliterate teenager, and

B> Most of it is just really ridiculous.

However, I won't be deleting any of it, so you can go right ahead and look at the weird shit a 13 year old can spew.

Cheers.

For You, My Teacher

Words can never suffice to express
The picture of you held in my heart.
Of you, the one who cared
Right to the end, from the very start.

Every time I failed, each time I fell,
I revived again to your healing touch,
Your gentle chiding; I now realise-
I need your presence, oh! so much!

Time goes by, as the clock ticks by,
Your impression molding who I am today.
I grow, I learn, as you help me
To overcome the stumbles along the way.

I try to rephrase what's been said for ages,
The respect for my teacher, I pen anew.
But words can't even begin to express
What I feel in my heart, for you.

You Decorated My Life

All my life was a piece of paper,
Once plain, unmarked and white.
And then you inked it with your pen,
Changed some rules now and then,
And then the balance was right.

All of me was an unmoulded piece of clay,
All impressionable and eager.
And then when you came along
Sculpted the right, chiseled the wrong.
And then you corrected my err.

Teacher, I still look up at you
To solve my troubles, and share my joy too.
Oh, yes teacher, you are for always my idol.
Someone who’s always there for me, someone special.

Be it strife, whether a celebration
Or a joy, be a sorrow.
You gave us the hope of the rising sun
You showed us the dream of a better tomorrow.

Your picture, I hold in my heart,
But now we must finally come apart…
Your advice I’ve always sought
The last three words for you: forget me not!!

- Radhikaa Sharma

Missing You

Being here, without you
Your physical presence conspicuous in its absence
Your thoughts tormenting me each day
It’s you who remains when all else fails.

Your words echo in my mind
Your daydreams lace my world
Your smile lights my heart
Your thoughts making me glow.

Waiting for a chance to be with you
In my thoughts and my hopes.
Feeling your lips brushing mine,
When I whisper your name aloud.

Looking into space, conjuring an image of you
Indifferent to everything, except you and yours,
“Missing you” is too cliché to explain
All the emotions wrapped up in your absence.

- Radhikaa Sharmaa