My second collaboration on Mirakee. So glad to have done it with the inquisitive and humourous Joker alonwith the talented and lovely @sunenasharma :) The first part is of @kehta_hai_joker the second is Sunena's and the last is mine. This is about meteors in real and the ones in our minds :)
The Persieds rocks were just about descending in the Earth's atmosphere It was a good life they had; no doubt But they would burn,so there was some fear.
They found the time, right to reminisce about zooming past the vast universe Going alone with pace and peace They had many memories so diverse.
They heard collapsing black holes hum and sing In all their glory they were a deadly thing They saw the furious Jupiter red spot And also stared at Saturn's ring. Overwhelmed by these mega things!
But eventually the fear of burning was no more seen Afterall what a journey it had been// ___________________________________ Witnessing lives in their minute form, Far away, seeming it to be a colourful spree, Fastening up the pace, to enjoy the same, But Suddenly facing trepidation of being so free.
Humanity may not have been living it's best, Still fear for an end is being sensed, Making a difference is still a hope to let it prevent, As echoed from those speculating the event. __________________________________ Yet the meteor's fall is an excited rise Of wishes in the eyes of a child Ecstatic to pray to almighty this way A shooting star it is they say!
A fall is not the end learnt the meteor Lessons hide in each mistake galore Shining brighter with an ignited fire Life is an adventure and no consequences dire Many had said that he's a rock and not a star Today he proved that all their talk is just a farce!
Copyright Jaya Harfkaar, Sunena Sharma, Anonymous bro. September 3,2020
A pillow Soft and fluffy Filled with nothingness But a confidante and a confessor to me For he knows, my deepest secret, And my darkest fears My distressed dreams And resonates my silent screams For days, when you abandoned me And shun me out of your life He embraces me like my mom And put me to sleep Showering meteors of love Soaking himself in my tears Not letting my demons consume me Taking my anguish With a non judgemental face A loyal companion My best friend Holding back my secret stories Obscuring my inner hysteria Only person who would Never betray
a dusky and serene sky Hiatus with no glimmering stars Skeptical gazes imploring perplexity seeming to appear soon at the aura
giggling around ebony clouds coating it with a thundering sound suddenly it starts Tumbling as the drizzle soon going to drop.
Gazing towards the moon I discovered the small part of stone-like object falling once a period grinning in its own initiating the fall in the young and beautiful Night of summer we experienced once as all.
In the dry, dusty and warm night
You shone like a plethora of lights
Gazing at you I wondered what a sight
You were, like a fiery rainfall of a firework bright
Lit from within , aflame and white
Around you, the glimmering stars looked slight
Mesmerising all , shinning with all your might
You left me dazed , dazzled and dight
"What is it that you hide in that journal and sit smiling at, for hours?! " And I don't have an answer. As I sit by the window, still, caressing the dead rose that lies buried in those half burnt pages, we once exchanged, that had engraved in them, the tales of our promising future, half burnt secrets, half burnt lies and a plethora of unsung love songs. My fingers went numb, as I traced each of it's petals, down the sepals, until they reached the thorns, that pricked them, and in an instant, I was brought back to the reality. I sat there staring into the vastness of the blank sky, at the endless horizon,with a tinge of purple lines, blushing in pink clouds. Whilst the sangria sunlight caressed the scars you painted on my face. Do you remember that night we got high on the terrace? And we lay there, holding hands, with glazed eyes, gaping at the interim meteors. Each time one crossed the skylength, your eyes sparkled a bit. And every time that they did, my heart skipped a beat. It was an amorous summer night, A night, one of it's kind. Amidst the dead silence, The mellifluous psithurism and your beautiful lies, was the only music known to my ears. And resting my head upon your shoulders, I took a dive into a deep slumber, and woke up only to realise... You were long gone. I remember the way you used to wrap me gently in your arms, as if I came with a "handle with care" warning. But you didn't even spare a second to think about this warning, when you left, dropping me and my little hopes to the ground with a thud so loud, they remain shattered even today. The pieces of which, lie scattered across the room. And I'm just too tired....To gather them all by myself. So can I ask for a little favour? Can I ask you to fix the heart You left broken. For the one last talk And for the one last time While we sip on the bitter wine Your lips once tasted of....?
A book For me Is not just An inanimate object I rather consider it As a companion Imparting wisdom Through the stories Of Women and Men Revelatory, glorious, fiesty Or vulnerable, volatile, anarchic
Helping me To escape reality And open doors To unknown locations Showering meteors Of poetic verses Teaching me magic or fighting Providing me clandestine insights In order to decipher The meaning Not of the words But those blanks or spaces In between them For those are the primary notions An author wants The reader To feel
I'm lying. Waiting for the demons to consume me. Tired of praying, I'm lost. Please just find me. Before I pass out, I beg you to find me.
After all those rains, I'm still in left in flames, Why there isn't an answer? After all the stabbings are over, the pain is just same, Why can't I feel numb for a while??? Old scars and tear stains are set afresh now.I write to find peace, while flying in hurricanes, I send hope notes. But, I'm tired now. I'm tired of breathing, existing, smiling just for no reason. While I hide from the storms, and secretly pray, the stars know 'when and why' of my each and every tear. The stars fall down in a group.
/The meteor shower, on the summer nights, passing straight through my soul, winds up my scars altogether and make them pain all at once. All of my wounds burn now, at the same time. *What a wonderful world!*/
I play those songs and begin writing, when the song stops, I'm pulled into another scenery. A place to which I've never been. A dazed state which resumes everytime the song playing stops. Again reality hits and gets my soul back from the unknown space when the song continues to play. Just like that my sentences, remain incomplete. Like phrases trying to give an image of hope, but aren't actually hopenotes. Spell hope and I create magic. Writing different parables filled with aesthetic versions of hope. Adding pink glitters to the grey-ed writes, I painted an oenomal mirage of optimistic synonyms. Many unusual positive and encouraging similes turned out to cure my burning spirit. But, the core matter that was visible to me set up the ashes of the wounds of my burnt soul like wines.
/I'm a flower. Yearning for rains I leave, Yearning for sunshines I cry. But nothing comes to me, except storms. And still, I gonna bloom on my own. /
Hovering in the clouds, I wait for some day, where the breeze doesn't graze my fresh wounds anymore. No insomnia has entered into the frame yet, but I sleep more and more and more to escape from realities. The worse part of sleeping is, dreaming about running in the same place. Like if it's a marathon, for no reason running in an unknown domain like crazy. Tears are like hearth, holding fire in my soul. Still, when people describe and designated tears as to something that's extremely weak, as of some faint hearted's melancholy, ɪ ʟᴀᴜɢʜ.
I wriggle through tears every time I see my friends and a part of me cry. And commit suicide. Or survive another failed suicide attempt. for the only reason that they can't look like the cis people. That they can't say they are male or female. That transition is a word they refer to in a astronomically different way than you use. That they don't feel that they belong-- to their body and to the society. That they are something and not someone. My body may be of a man. But my soul is a woman. And I can't be anything else. I think of Lily Elbe. Born a man called Eignar Wegener. I think how she was always trapped in a man's body. How she gagged in a suit all her life as a man. And her suppressed only desire to be a mother. How she died in trying to become one. I am effiminate and I can't pretend any more. I am not a man. I am a woman and all of you thinking that I'm not doesn't mean anything to me now. You tell me that I am acting strange and that therapy will cure me. What will you cure me of? I am who I am. And it's not a disease. I like to wear corsets. I can't wear a tie anymore, to please you. To become a part of your parties. To be what I am is above what I look like and what you want me to be. I am. Just me. Not a moon. Not a sun. Just millions of meteors falling together and burning ablaze.
I am a bird fluttering in the sky Suffocating in open air This sky a cage for me An untransferable cage Immutable cage Widely loved, beautiful cage A bird always meant to fly A bird always adorns the sky Yet I gag Lightning ripping my soul Demented, squealing, writhing I fly with my feathers sore The water shining catches my eyes A fish I am escapes my sighs Laughable, devilish, ridiculous My thoughts against the will of nature Hunted by other birds Pecked till I bled and died The world was kind, the world had lied. -- I a Trans woman
"That day when the stars came falling. It’s almost as if a scene from a dream. Nothing more, nothing less than a beautiful view." — Kimi no Na wa.
"The night is falling down around us. Meteors rain like fireworks, quick rips in the seam of the dark...Every second, another streak of silver glows: parentheses, exclamation points, commas - a whole grammar made of light, for words too hard to speak." — Jodi Picoult