Everything went so bad so fast
And all I wanted was not to let that feeling last
And last it did
Beyond immeasurable hours
Or atleast it felt that way
That the whole world around me was tumbling down
Like I’m just a face with a frown, who’s waiting for my feelings to drown
Eyes swollen, heart heavy
Here we go again
Let’s make the car go revvy
New hopes, new dreams, new internal screams
A new year, shifting gears, here we go again, trying to make sense of the moving trains
No comparison, no resemblance, just one day after another, trying to do best for self without letting social media affect my progress
Do we write only when we’re upset? I remember being reflective about things when I had anxiety
Not that I sail through life with ease now, but practicing gratitude has helped me immensely
If I’m back to writing today, does it mean I’m in my thoughts where I’m contemplating a change again?
Back to WordPress, where things feel somewhat easy, people across the globe looking at what I write, some even relating to my plight
Weary mind,
Teary eyes,
What is this world where everyone cries?
Trying to find my craft
In this dim-lit path
That has been left for me
In the cultural aftermath
Some say love is one,
Love is blind, how love is so kind.
But what about those who say:
Love is pain, to love is shame, as it only leaves you feeling disdained.
On one hand, hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. But, on the other hand, it is an undiscovered disappointment.
When I walk on the road, I see a lovely garden on my left and intricate houses and fancy mansions to my right
I feel as though I’m stuck, between the perpetual; nature vs man
and as to which of these stand, in their absolute might, you know, in their own respective lifespan
my walk is not just an aimless walk, because I do have a destination in my mind, that is, to reach the subway train station in time
what else do I see?
well, there’s flies, there’s garbage, there’s cars running, there’s a little bit of their mileage
people walking, just like me, some listening to music, some talking on the phone,
some even looking at me, with a flat emotion resembling a tone that stands alone
when I walk on the road, there’s a cool breeze that envelopes me, might even call it a tease
its somewhat in contrast
to the warm wind that slaps my face
as soon as I reach the train station
after my walk of chase
such is the nature of reflections
making you feel a range of emotions
on the simple walk that you take
towards the subway train station
how is it
that the person who gives you the most, takes away even more, unknowingly, unflinchingly
how is it
that in the starting few months of your love story, you love ever so deeply but still stay insecure and fragile
how is it
that your most alone moments after a fight or an argument are spent in isolation but still surrounded by the glimpses of the ‘other’
how is it
that sometimes we want to stop fighting but our body physically makes it impossible for us to do so
how is it
that we feel so much for our relationships and our familial issues and yet don’t care enough for all the wrongdoings going on in our country
how is it
that we are built this way? to care so much and yet not at all
and why is it
that to awaken our sense of nationalism, I am writing a poem that begins with love and relationships merely to get everyone’s attention
words come to you
but then, they drift off
before you could even make sense of them
or write them down
they leave you wondering
that you aren’t good enough
for them to stay
that how even the devil won’t take you
because the devil, too, has standards some
oh, the negativity
takes a toll on you
one fell swoop
and you begin the process, of undervaluing yourself
such solitary life
that even words don’t stick around
is this what people call misery?
it surely must be
the words are starting to come back to you, again
you must concentrate
before they get away
so, you submit, like christ on the cross
but then, they again drift off
before you could even make sense of them
or write them down
© Lishaka Gulati
someone comes up to me
and says something nice
all I can think about, is wanting to flee
for how could someone say such vice
my body reflexes on the compliment and immediately reacts with “what the hell man, now why did you say that for?”
my hand, meanwhile, reaches for my wooden bedside table and I mutter the words “touch – wood” and at the same time, stare at the person in disbelief, with a glare
now what does that term even mean
it’s a rhetorical question, so leave it clean
I don’t know how I even started using that term
maybe I picked it off from my mother
who ardently believes that this would ward off evil intentions that people sometimes tend to cover
I use this term a lot
and whenever I do so, I tend to always get caught
whenever a compliment comes my way
I tend to make a face and try to get away, to my wooden bedside table to say those golden words and save my day
why did I only mention, my wooden bedside table
well, I’m always in bed, that’s why I said
so you don’t end up feeling, like you’ve been misled
© Lishaka Gulati
never won
never lost
just never tried
kept still
never moved
scared
of free will
eyes shut
heart closed
turned away
from everything that grows
never cared
never shared
oh, so much despair
never won
never lost
just never tried
© Lishaka Gulati
it’s windy, and also a little chilly
but I don’t know if it’ll rain or not, really
it’s thundering now
but I still don’t see any raindrop on the ground
so, basically, what I’m trying to say
is that what has to happen, will happen
in its intended way
then why can’t I just enjoy the weather
for the way the wind feels and the sweet smell that it brings
without anxiously waiting for the end – result or the rain to begin
it’s Friday, I’m sitting near my half – opened windows
looking at the way the plants sway in their pots
and suddenly, I see the raindrop
the faint drops falling on the ground
and look how the Earth’s surface gets wet
the wind and the smell is now upset
because the rain has made people to forget
the weather is still windy
there is lightning now and thunder in the clouds
and I wait for the heavy rain to occur
because that’s the result of this weather, don’t you concur
there is no appreciation of the wind
or how dark it becomes on a Friday afternoon
just the pining need for the end – result, to happen soon
constantly thinking about, will it happen and, how will it happen
why can’t I just be in the now? instead of continuously waiting for the baton
it’s Friday today and this is how I describe my feelings, this day
we’ll see the way, of how tomorrow conveys
© Lishaka Gulati
so, what will it be today?
he asked, gently
exquisite manners or basic instincts?
© Lishaka Gulati
sometimes they smoke,
to make their cough go away
they are somewhat of a paradox,
what can you say
© Lishaka Gulati
from that day to this
the girl has been dealing with an emptiness inside
the occasional mood swings, frequent crying
and those other things alike
the kid finally opened up to her family
told them of her suffering and the agony
she also informed them of the chest pains
that had started troubling her lately
the family supported the kid
and assisted her in getting the treatment
that was requisite for her, even though a little inconvenient
now the kid has been diagnosed
with anxiety and depression
so suddenly the kid has a word
that is within her comprehension
© Lishaka Gulati
P.S. this piece was written a few months back
© Lishaka Gulati
Poetry by Lishaka 