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  • _lost_words 25w

    I have always been fascinated by the idea of knowing new people like there are people I want to meet, I want to talk to, but I lack the courage or maybe it's the fear, of them not wanting the same, like what if they don't want to meet me or talk to me.
    I have always hesitated.
    I want to ask them if they had a good day or was it just fine? What was that one thing that kept them going, does me asking it makes it any easier, I know it doesn't but I still want to ask them.
    I want to ask them how they have been feeling lately, do they have someone who recommends them songs they can listen to, or do they receive a letter recently or do they get a call from someone just to ask them, how has it been lately?
    I want to thank people who gave me new songs, or the ones whose writing made me feel a little warm, or whose art in any form made my heart go calm but I don't do that often.
    I barely call upon people I know, I barely check upon them, barely ask them if they are doing fine, or writes them letters I want to, but I barely check upon myself these days. Time just passes by, days change into weeks, and I just sit in my room and think of doing all this and then rant about it when I can't.

    Maybe these are all things I just want to think about doing and not actually do them, and you know just acknowledging this thought just sends a shiver down my spine.
    I don't understand how my mind works, it is full of confusion and contradictions in itself.
    I don't understand what I have become lately.

    ©_lost_words

  • _lost_words 76w

    Shit ?!

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    देखो वैसे तो मुझे भागना पसंद नहीं,
    मगर यह ज़िंदगी सबको दौड़ाती है।
    कभी थोड़ा सा,
    तो कभी सफर लंबा तय कर आती है।
    मगर कहीं ना कहीं दूर जरूर ले जाती है।

    और फिर मेरी तो आदत है,
    परेशानियों से भागने की,
    अक्सर ही कहीं दूर निकल जाने की।

    मगर कितनी दूर?
    इतनी दूर जहां से कुछ दिखाई ना दे,
    या जहां से कहीं और दूर जाना ना पड़े?

    आखिर कितनी दूर?
    इतनी दूर जहां दूसरों से मिलना ना पड़े,
    या जहां कभी खुद से भी मिलाना ना पड़े?

    मगर क्या,
    खुद से दूर जा पाओगे?
    आखिर कब तक यूं खुद से भाग पाओगे?

    खुद से भागकर आखिर कहां जाओगे,
    जहां भी जाओगे खुद को ही पाओगे ।

    मगर एक बात तो भूल ही गया !!
    कभी अंधेरे में निकल कर तो देखो,
    खुद को क्या कभी परछाई को भी ढूंढ नहीं पाओगे।

    ©_lost_words

  • _lost_words 76w

    I see people living
    Under masks
    Not one but many,
    Layered one over another.
    Like a multi-layered cake?
    Though I wonder,
    When the cake is over-layered
    Or when it's over flavored
    It tends to lose
    what it was meant to be!
    Is it the same with people?
    Is the person
    Under the mask even alive?
    Or died
    Died of the suffocating
    Fog of fakeness,
    Or of endless tries to fit
    In someone else's skin
    Or what?

    Over the years
    Familiar faces
    Turned stranger than ever,
    I could only remember the name
    But no longer the person.
    Like the word disappointed
    Became disappointed in me.
    And the thing
    That bothers me is
    That I don't know
    What it is?
    Or how it is!
    I don't know
    When these masks became faces
    Or these faces became masks,
    It's like
    You woke up one day
    And then the realization hits you
    You can't figure out
    When it went wrong
    Or where?
    Everything seems to be fine
    Everything looks the same,
    yet so much changes,
    you don't feel the same.
    It's like a temporary feeling
    Turned to permanent
    And the permanent
    Into temporary.

    ©_lost_words

  • _lost_words 80w

    तेरी यादें

    तेरी यादें,
    मेरे लिए महज़,
    तस्वीरों में क़ैद,
    वो लम्हें नहीं है,
    जिन्हें मैं एक बार फिर से,
    जीना चाहता हूं।

    तेरी यादें,
    मेरे लिए महज़,
    बीते वक़्त कि,
    कुछ बातें नहीं है,
    जिन्हें मैं एक बार फिर से,
    तुझसे करना चाहता हूं।

    तेरी यादें,
    मेरे लिए महज,
    एक कमरे में,
    बीताए हुए चंद घंटे नहीं है,
    जिन्हें मैं एक बार फिर से,
    ज़िन्दगी भर के लिए जीना चाहता हूं।

    तेरी यादें,
    मेरे लिए महज़,
    तेरे शैहर के,
    वो रास्ते नहीं है,
    जिन्हे मैं एक बार फिर से,
    तेरे साथ घूमना चाहता हूं।

    तेरी यादें,
    मेरे लिए महज,
    वो चाय या आइस- क्रीम नहीं,
    जिन्हें मैं एक बार फिर से,
    दोनों को,
    साथ में खाना चाहता हूं।

    तेरी यादें,
    तो मेरे लिए,
    वो सपना है,
    जो मै,
    सिर्फ बंद नहीं,
    खुली आंखों से भी,
    देखना चाहता हूं।

    वो सपना,
    जो मैं,
    सिर्फ रातों को नहीं,
    बल्की दिन में,
    जीना भी चाहता हूं।

    - देवेश जोशी।
    ©_lost_words

  • _lost_words 81w

    I'm sick
    of being a patient
    of hope.
    I wish I could do
    something about it.

    I catch hope faster than
    someone catching a cold.

    Hope comes easy to me,
    it comes to me with a reply, a text,
    I wasn't expecting,
    some post by poems!
    or something written
    by some hopelessly romantic
    make me believe in,
    love? *bleh*
    and making me fall
    all over again.

    Hope comes to me,
    from movies, I watch,
    where two people
    fall for each other,
    in a blink of an eye,
    where promises stand forever,
    where love is,
    I don't know what?!
    but happens in an hour!

    Hope comes to me,
    from songs, I hear,
    when singers like Mohammad Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar, Mukesh, Elvis Presley, Stevie Wonder, Eric Clapton, and many others
    sings in their melodious voices
    embracing every word,
    of the magical lyrics
    by Gulzar, Jagjit, Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell,
    Sahir Ludhiyanvi.

    "दो पल के जीवन से इक उम्र चुरानी है"

    "ग़म और ख़ुशी में फ़र्क़ न महसूस हो जहाँ,
    मैं दिल को उस मक़ाम पे लाता चला गया |"

    "We go to a party and everyone turns to see
    This beautiful lady that's walking around with me
    And then she asks me, Do you feel all right?
    And I say, "Yes, I feel wonderful tonight"


    I mean i could go on...

    Hope comes to me,
    with the moon getting lost,
    in those stars before the dawn.
    or with the sunset before dusk,
    which comes to me with possibilities,
    to begin life with a new beginning,
    but start-overs aren't easy!

    Hope comes to me
    in almost every form,
    but then,
    so does disappointment, right behind it,
    of not having these hopes survive,
    more than a day/month,
    or should I say,
    a moment?

    I don't understand.
    What it is with hope,
    and disappointments
    that they go hand-in-hand?

    But how does one decide,
    how much hope is too much hope?
    as there are disappointments that'll be following it!

    ©_lost_words

  • _lost_words 85w

    it's almost over an hour
    i have been sitting in the living room,
    staring at the walls,
    with these voices in my head.
    and it makes me wonder,
    how all these things,
    make perfect sense in my head,
    but as i try to pen them down,
    it just changes into a mess,
    an alphabet there, some words here.
    some incomplete sentences,
    some leftover punctuations!
    kind of like my life so far,
    unsaid things, broken promises,
    leftover feeling, incomplete sleep?

    i wonder,
    as i scratch my pain
    through these words, paragraphs,
    why do people find them beautiful?
    and i swear when i write them,
    sometimes it chokes my breath
    so, i pray to the Almighty,
    for being independent,
    so independent that i no longer,
    need air to breathe!
    aren't the disappointments enough to breathe?

    i try to avert from this,
    and go to the balcony
    to see the stars bleed,
    painting the sky with shades of blue,
    and with time shades of black,
    and then slowly disappearing
    like they never existed!
    like wishes?

    I'm staring at the sky, still.
    and thinking of painting,
    paper being my canvas,
    and my words being the color.
    i complete it.
    and as i look at it,
    i wonder, why people say?
    my paintings reflect the shades of their lives,
    resonating with the dullness,
    cause all i use is bits of blacks,
    over grey and white.

    i distract myself,
    by looking for the moon.
    i have always been fond of the moon,
    it has always been a friend of mine,
    we share plain silence,
    we have often tried talking,
    like in words
    but never actually did,
    always felt like silence
    is more beautiful,
    how things unsaid and unspoken
    tends to drift people apart,
    but in this made us more close.

    i have always found silence comforting,
    it speaks volumes,
    it has screams hidden in it,
    laughter bursting out,
    intimacies blended,
    and much more.

    and i think,
    silence has its own damn language,
    which we all know,
    and don't know,
    at the same time!
    and it's really hard,
    finding this comfort,
    of being able to share long silence
    with some human,
    fortunately i found it once.
    but then again,
    humans are not permanent.
    i hope you do too,
    may that be for a while only.

    ©_lost_words

  • _lost_words 85w

    happy place?

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    happy place?
    I have never really known one before,
    as to what really qualifies as a happy place!
    if happy place was a person,
    then I have had quite a few.
    but aren't happy place about something permanent?
    cause people are just a picnic spot,
    by the lake.
    and you can't stay forever at a picnic spot.
    and also,
    if it was a person
    how can you be so sure of them sticking around all the time,
    cause people leaves!
    aren't happy places about, always staying?

    if my happy place was to exist,
    it could be only in my imagination.
    it would be a place
    Where I see familiar faces,
    with no mask to cover,
    Where I hear,
    familiar voices, on repeat,
    Where I have the Aura,
    of being at rest.
    Where I would be free,
    as to do whatever I want.
    Where I have the presence of,
    every being special to me,
    then at the same time,
    never really had to face them.
    Where I can sit,
    sit staring them,
    looking at how beautiful they are,
    and tell them they mean the world to me,
    and nothing else.
    where it would be colorful,
    with every shade of black and white,
    and a little bit of grey in between.
    where my mind,
    doesn't have to wonder of what-ifs?
    where I'm alone,
    but without being lonely.
    Where I can be who I am,
    with no one to judge,
    with no one to lose,
    with no fear of missing out,
    where I don't fear,
    my fears,
    where death holds no power,
    Where I can sing my heart out,
    knowing I don't sound good.
    and nothing else.


    ©_lost_words

  • _lost_words 85w

    HOPE?

    Hope, hope is a dangerous thing to have, it drives people crazy?
    Some of you might be wondering why is he stating some line form a movie, or being so dramatic about it!
    Maybe, I'm being dramatic but it is something I believe.
    Hope to me is a word that is very to home,
    Almost close right?
    But is almost ever enough?
    Having hope to get home, is one thing
    But do you ever reach home?
    Do you?
    Or are you just always close to home!
    Like when you started.
    But never close enough,
    To be able to knock the door.

    I'm not trying to be a pessimist, it's just what I have known so far.
    But I have also known that

    Hope has different forms.
    Sometimes it's a human,
    You love or care for.
    Sometimes its birds chirping,
    In the morning, with a new life to start with.
    Sometimes it's a dream,
    Of being together.
    Sometimes it's the acceptance,
    Of letting someone go.

    Hope is also that smile you fake when you're forced to let someone go, that small silence you have in between every conversation with yourself, that believe of having things the way they were, that cigarette you just finished in a hope to get over someone, almost everything has hope in it.
    But then almost is never enough, is it?
    I don’t know.

    Let's come back to hope in the hope that you find the answer.

    ©_lost_words

  • _lost_words 86w

    यादें अगर बोल पाती,
    तोह कहती,
    हमें तो जब चाहें, जहा चाहें,
    बुला लिया करते हो।
    मगर, उसका क्या?
    जिसके साथ मिलकर तुमने हमें बनाया था,
    उसका क्या?
    जिसके लिए, तुमने हमें बनाया था,
    उसका क्या?
    जिसके जाने के अफ़सोस में,
    तुमने हमें आज याद किया है।
    क्या हुआ उसका?

    यादें अगर बोल पाती,
    तोह कहती,
    उसके आने का तो पता नहीं तुमें!
    मगर, हमें बुला लेते हो,
    एक जाम हर शाम?
    इतनी सस्ती,
    तो नहीं थी उसकी यादें!
    इतनी कड़वी,
    तो नहीं थी उसकी यादें।!
    मगर यह यादें भी तो,
    उसकी अकेले की नहीं थी।
    थी क्या?

    यादें अगर बोल पाती
    तोह कहती,
    कब तक?
    आखिर कब तक, हमें यू याद करोगे?
    बिन बुलाए हर रात,
    हमारे दरवाजों पर दस्तक दिया करोगे?
    कब तक?
    आखिर कब तक, हमें यू बदनाम करोगे?
    हर शाम शराब के साथ,
    हमें बाजारों में शर्मसार(/नीलम) करोगे?
    आखिर कब तक?

    यादें अगर बोल पाती
    तो कहती,
    हम तो महज़ यादें है,
    कुछ पल जो तुमने,
    आज नहीं तो कल बिताने है।
    हमें मेहेज़ यादें ही रहने दो,
    वक़्त की कुछ बातें बाद के लिए रहने दो।

    हम तो मेहेज यादें है।

    ~ देवेश जोशी
    ©_lost_words

  • _lost_words 88w

    कुछ बातें है मेरे पास,
    कल की,
    कुछ कहानियां है मेरे पास,
    बीते हुए वक़्त की,
    तुमसे आज करने के लिए!

    क्या सुनोगी तुम?

    - देवेश जोशी