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
its just that
surviving
isn’t the same as living
and saying thank you
isn’t the same as having gratitude
its just that
loving someone
doesn’t necessarily mean you’re in love
and at times
changing the world
doesn’t necessarily mean you’re saving the world
it’s just that
not knowing, what’s happening around you
doesn’t necessarily mean
you’re living under a rock
and being married
doesn’t necessarily mean
that you’re settled
its just that
we got to try
to not be disillusioned
by these so called
‘grown-up’ perspectives
its just that
we got to try
to not let faith
be based
solely on comfort
and excuses
it’s just that
we got to try
to not let that magic
within us
die
its just that
we got to try
to live our life
and not just
survive
© Lishaka Gulati
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
you strive and for what
what’s the point
you tire yourself and for what
what’s the point
doesn’t make sense
all this pretense
you work for someone else
what’s the point
they tell you what to do
and you do it
they tell you, how to do it
and you do it
really, what’s the point
maybe you’ll quit your job today
yes, you should do it
now you work for yourself
you are free
you’re also fearful
so, what’s the point
the point is, that today
we’ll help you
alter your approach
that’s the point
the point is, that today
we’ll help you
instill an impression
of copiousness
in yourself
that’s the point
because there are things, many
in this universe, unbridled
all ready for you
so don’t just survive
live and live free
that’s the point
© 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
there are these boundaries that I see and they somehow seem to constrict me
I don’t remember creating them, but they now, somehow, engulf me
there are these boundaries that I feel
that seem to have a strange power over me
they tell me, what is right and what is wrong, and that if I do something beyond
I will risk experiencing failure and my self-esteem will falter even greater
there are these boundaries that I see and they seem to have an unusual control over me
it is so hard for me, to even breathe, when these boundaries keep on smothering me
there are these boundaries, that I want to break, but I am so scared, as now they have placed these tiny pieces of glass on the boundary wall
as a means, to try to keep me enclosed, within the designated space
there are these boundaries, that seem to keep me, so walled off and so closed off
they have now become so rigid, so restrictive, thus making it so difficult for me, to escape them or get rid of
© Lishaka Gulati
P.S. this piece was written a few months back
sometimes they smoke,
to make their cough go away
they are somewhat of a paradox,
what can you say
© Lishaka Gulati
Poetry by Lishaka 