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  • jewelskhan75 7w

    2 december, 3.38 am.

    You're my favorite song of a forgotten album, which I never intend to play; the tape of which sits peacefully in the corner of my dark brown shelf. Brown like the cast of your eyes, deep like the dark immersing shadows with hints of sparkles and I know that's what keeps you alive.

    You're that phrase which I always hold back, to pair in each poem that sprawls across my sheets, but you never fit for you were never meant to sit betwixt the lines but slip between the gaps of the words, you cheat a gaze and draw it back, with a bitten lip.
    You and consistency have been in a war for too long.

    You're the smell of fresh blood draped on a raw canvas, the dew in the first touch of petrichor, the punch of ash that licks your tongue when you part your lips from the coffin nail.

    You're everything satisfying but deathly, just like your half turned smile.

    You're my favorite person to be with, to spend an eternity with, to write unaddressed letters to.

    You're my favorite painting to stare at when the night sky cradles the moon to sleep; no matter how lazy the sun gets to wake up.

    You're my favorite lyrics from a not so favorite song, which I find myself humming and swaying in accord.

    You're the smile on my face when I've forgotten how to pull the curve.

    You're the years you outlasted; years whose weight falls on the lids of your eyes, making them wither like the bones in my knees when I meet your drooping gaze.

    You're a hidden monument of everything I fell in love with, everything I'm in search for; all over again.

    ©jewelskhan75

  • jewelskhan75 15w

    Dayaar-e-ishq me, chandni ab koi raat nahi.
    Wo nahi, to yahan bhi wo baat nahi.
    Usse kahe wo aakar zara barse mujh par,
    Us shaam se ab tak yahan barsaat nahi.

    Ye karb hai musalsal, isse koi nijaat nahi.
    Saltanat me ishq ki, phoolon ki bisaat nahi.
    Qadam kuch chal kar zakhmi ho gaye to kya!
    Yahan marham bhi wo rakhte hai jinke hath nahi.

    Ye zidd hai zamane ki, koi rasumaat nahi.
    Rang gaye kirdaar ki koi auqaat nahi.
    Kitna mushkil hai taqdeer se yun takrana,
    Rasm-o-reet ko hi jab yahan wafaat nahi.

    Sard mehri me humqadam, dhoop me wo sath nahi.
    Kahin khayaal nahi mile, kahin to zaat nahi.
    Iss raah ki tapish se to mud gaya wo,
    Par kya aage uske koi pul-siraat nahi?

    Ishq ki tameez nahi usse, qaide bhi usse yaad nahi.
    Ye to fun tha uska, koi maqsad-e-hayat nahi.
    Alfaaz to nam the magar lehjo ne jaane ki iltejaa ki.
    Humne bhi muskura kar kaha, chalo koi baat nahi.

    ©jewelskhan75

  • jewelskhan75 16w

    Zindagi me kabhi aisa ho jata hai,
    Jo paya na ho, wo hi kho jata hai.
    Din dhale tak jo muskaan sajata hai,
    Wo raat ki tareekiyo'n me ro jata hai.

    Zindagi me kabhi aisa ho jata hai,
    Ek baarish me khushk dil bhigo jata hai.
    Koi aata hai khaamoshi se aangan me,
    Aur ek toofan seene me bo jata hai.

    Zindagi me kabhi aisa ho jata hai,
    Kahani ka kuch suf'ha kho jata hai.
    Koi bedaar rehta hai khauf se,
    Koi us khauf ko lipat kar so jata hai.

    Zindagi me kabhi aisa ho jata hai,
    Pairon me phool bhi chubho jata hai.
    Jo baharon pe chalne ka rakhta hai hunar,
    Wo aksar ek aansu me hi dubo jata hai.

    Zindagi me kabhi aisa ho jata hai,
    Zindagi me kabhi aisa mod aata hai-
    Koi bin kahe hi keh jata hai;
    Koi bin roye hi ro jata hai.

    Zindagi me kabhi aisa ho jata hai,
    Jo paaya na ho, wo yaad aata hai;
    Jo paa liya, to kahin kho jata hai.
    Zindagi me kabhi aisa ho jata hai,
    Zindagi me kabhi aisa ho jata hai.

    ©jewelskhan75

  • jewelskhan75 21w

    That typical highschool crush

    Somebody once asked me of my highschool crush. Instantly, a pair of golden eyes flashed in my mind's eye. Eyes a raw gold, semblance of the unfiltered streams of sun racing to touch The Fuji's peak. That's where I picked my obsessions for lenses.

    I part my lips to say something and a smile peaks through.

    "He was the most-" I raked my vocabulary for a word that would sit perfect with his aura; failed presumably.
    "I don't know." I shrugged and gave in.

    "He was short, like-" I raise my hand an inch or two above my head. "-this short?"

    "But he was beautiful. The most beautiful boy in our grade, perhaps." I say with the smile still hanging on my face.

    I told her about the whole lot of crazy I did to catch just mere glimpses of his pretty face.

    "He travelled in the last batch the van would carry. My place was only a two minutes walk from school but I waited for a whole hour just to catch a sight of him running into the playground. The girls weren't allowed inside apart from the school hours. He would play football there and I would wait outside until the horns of his van sounded in a certain pattern until he and his van mates would scramble out of the ground rewarding me with another glimpse." I paused and looked up to see if she's still with me.

    "I know it sounds ridiculous but I kinda planned our wedding with the van guy blowing the trumpet upon our entrance in the same pattern." We both cracked up, literally.

    "One look was never enough. I waited 5 minutes for one look and 1 hour for the other. I watched him enter and exit but he never saw me standing there. No matter how magical his eyes were, I never got the chance to look past it. He was always so quick to look away as if the gaze was soo-"  I gestured my hands in confusion "-accidental. Though it was a whole of an hour's plan for me."

    "My friends always told me I was crazily committed to someone who was oblivious of my existence. But I ran for a new chance everyday. I believe the funniest part was how I, being the most irregular girl who would skip school after a single sneeze, turned into one heck of a punctual freak. So regular, I had even showed up at school with a 104° fever, once."
    I looked up and had a raised eyebrow darted towards me. "So? Did you wait for him that day?"

    She had asked and I leaned back on the couch, my back not stretched any wider than my smile.

    "Ofcourse, I did. I don't waste a day of hardwork like that." I paused for a moment and allowed my words to sink in.

    "And honestly, I had felt all the tiredness and the sick feeling drain away in just one look I had earned." I spoke more to the walls than to her, my eyes trailed in thick space.

    "Somedays I thought more to myself if that's what just a sight of him is capable of doing, imagine what his words could do, what his gaze could do, what his touch could-" I bit my lip and returned my gaze on her. "-okay TMI."

    "So you loved him so deeply but never went upto him and told him about everything that's been on your mind?"

    That's the most valid question she had gathered so far to which I had the stupidest answer.

    "No."

    She scoffed and I can say I expected it.

    "But I did try. I tried stealing his ball, tried befriending his sister, tried to walk towards him and grab his attention. But everything led to an embarrassing disaster. And at one point, I gave in. I stopped waiting after school hours, stopped being regular, stopped trying to earn chance glimpses. I had withdrawn completely from all the feelings I had for him, all the feelings I found myself incapable of showing him."

    I drew in a deep breath. A moment of silence ensued.

    "Then one day, we were given out our examination centre details, our seat numbers were allotted. I was denying the fact to myself that I badly wanted to be in the same centre as his. I wasn't. But I still wrote his name in my calender in a fancy font; the initial of his name- 'A' in my best calligraphy."

    "Sucks you guys weren't put together."
    She made a face which I knew was about to light up a whole lot.

    "Oh but we were. I didn't get to that part yet. I was registered at a school nearby with the most horrible supervision in the history of centres. The place was itself so much of a downside, one would choke calling it a school. But poor systems was a plus for students, passing answers were easy. So was the reason that school was denied it's centre accumulation and hence, I was admitted to the same centre as his; given that the initials of our surnames are close."

    Her jaw hung from her face and she was in no mood of pulling it up.
    "Speak of fate bringing people together."

    "Tsk tsk. Not for a cowardice like me. I turned every opportunity down and again. I risked my papers and tried appearing late just to catch his attention but he never looked up. I mean- that boy would literally choose his ball over any girl, anyday!"

    "On the last paper though, I remember finishing early but pretended I was still working my way through. But actually, I invested the hours sketching out his pretty face on the last page of the questionnaire. Then, I ran downstairs, searched for his bag and thrusted the paper inside. Turns out, It was never his bag, rather some idiot's who made fun of the sketch in a way that cracked me up too, honestly. "

    "Speak of misfortune."
    She nodded her head in sympathy and my egoistic self didn't like it.

    "Gah! I'm over it." I wave a dismissive hand.

    Another wrap of silence.

    "What do you feel when you think of him, now?"

    "Nothing."

    It was the truth. Or perhaps, not.

    "You'll be surprised we're friends now. Or maybe I think we are. But we have spoken in the past months, though nothing in personal."

    "But honestly, when I stumble on his name, I see a little boy. A memory from kindergarten, the one where in I'm curled up in a corner crying because I hadn't qualified for performing in 'Twinkle Twinkle little star'. It was break time and everyone were too busy stealing tiffins or pulling little girl's pigtails to have noticed me. In that moment of my innocent isolation, he had quietly approached me and sat beside with his tiffin in his tiny hands and when I asked him- "Why're you here?" His reply still has my heart- "because you're crying."

    ©jewelskhan

  • jewelskhan75 22w

    Some days I stop and think,
    What if we would've actually clicked?
    Could we have seamed a forever;
    In the numbered days we picked?

    Would you have let me graze your skin;
    Down to the very last of your flaws?
    Whispered by my ear; your darkest sins;
    Without an awkward pause?

    Would it have ended differently-
    Had I shedded tears for you to stay?
    Would you have unpacked the smiles and glee;
    All that you had taken away?

    But I wonder if you stop and think-
    Of all the grief you left in my lap.
    If your words keeps you up at night;
    Those you uttered in my wrap.

    Does your chest squeeze your breaths, too;
    As if you've swallowed a mighty stone?
    Or do you not feel a pang at all;
    For all the 'I love you's' you had thrown?

    If at all; was it that hard to keep-
    The heart you burnt into ashes;
    The love that ran in me; so deep,
    For the devil you hid behind those glasses?

    Do you ever stare with teary eyes,
    Into the dark of the empty night?
    Grieving over every beat you skipped,
    Realizing I was worth the fight?

    Or perhaps you wave a dismissive hand,
    At the mention of my name,
    Or raise a toast for how vulnerable I turned,
    When you walked away owning the game.

    And some days when the sun wears black,
    I ask myself, if at all- is it fair?
    To break yourself crack by crack,
    For a love which was never there?

    ©jewelskhan

  • jewelskhan75 25w

    Kuredti hu panne ke kisi roz padhega tu,
    Par tu ishq ki zubaan to samajhta hi nahi.

    Hum to waqif the teri be raghbati tagaful se,
    Wo to tu hi kabhi apne jazbon se mukarta hi nahi.

    Cheerte kinaaron ko tere samet lu aaghosh me apni,
    Par tu hai jo kabhi in baahon me bikharta hi nahi.

    Ab kyu baithe hai rauzan ke paar takte hum?
    Ab to tu in galiyon se guzarta bhi nahi.

    Tere ho kar bhi teri ghaflat ke ghoont peete hai,
    Kaise kahe tu hume khone se darta hi nahi?

    Tu kya hisaab lega meri chahat ki gehrai ka,
    Tu in aankhon ke darya me kabhi utarta hi nahi.

    Jamal tera misl shams-o-qamar,
    tere naaz-e-husn ko zavaal hai par,
    Tu jo meri ulfat ke gehno me kabhi sanwarta hi nahi.

    Kya shikwa kare, kya gila kare tujhse?
    Tu koi haq mera khud pe rakhta hi nahi.

    ©jewelskhan

  • jewelskhan75 25w

    -from the book 'A place for us.'
    #homec

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    Home for me is a place I stand outside of; looking in.

  • jewelskhan75 26w

    The road you didn't take yesterday, is different from the one which led you to today, but the catch is, they lead you to the same tomorrow.

    @writersnetwork

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    Would some endings be different if some beginnings were never born?

    No. Life is a train ride. It is but in one of the many facts of living that no matter how many tracks you change, it pretty much leads you to the same station.

    We often tend to wonder if life would have turned out any different had we taken that one step we hesitated and drew back.

    Could we have saved that last string from snapping off had it costed to choke on a few words we had rather chosen to spew?

    Could we have made that one person stay, had we shattered vulnerably in their arms rather stiffening beneath that strong shadow we had allowed to cast and pressing goodbyes between our bitten lips?

    Could we have frozen the clock had we not parted our lips a little sooner than time had flown? Or could we have thawed their icy heart had we rested our heads a little longer on their arms or squeezed their hands a little tighter at every drop of the music?

    Could we have seamed a 'forever' with a person we never pictured waking up beside, blending our day with theirs, flying to places, hands locked and finally closing the night in their warm holds; had it been for just one 'yes'?

    Could we have made that one person fall in love with us whom we gave up on after a series of efforts with no milestone in sight, had it just been for one extra 'I love you'?

    The truth is- No.

    One must learn to accept that no matter what route they equip to drag their lives on, the destination is bound to remain unchanged.

    The relationship that broke off was never meant to exist.
    The person you didn't beg to wait was never meant to stay.
    The moment you never captured was never worth a memory.
    The life you overlooked was never meant to be lived.
    The love you drained on the wrong person was never worth your while.

    So stop kicking yourself for the 'what if's' you have listed out, mentally. If it is meant to be, it will always find a way. Yes, go ahead; choose a different course, but always remember you will end up right where you're supposed to be. The only thing you can change about it; is the path.

    For no matter how many beginnings are born,
    the ending is always the same.

    ©jewelskhan

  • jewelskhan75 27w

    My brother's bride. Chp:2 (Untangle)

    Rameen pressed her fingers on the side of her brows to thrust the pain somewhere deeper where she couldn't feel it throbbing out of her temples. The day had already taken enough out of her. Now she laid on her bed, summoning every thought, in succession, that had been deluged on her at once.

    Nothing went as she had played in her head a million times for that day. She hadn't expected in the farthest quarter of it, for Ammar to step in the kitchen like that and what had actually fleeted her castles in the air was the hold he had pressed on her wrist.

    It was only when she had lifted her wrist to recall her first touch, she realized her charm was gone.

    Thereafter, her chest tightened up and her lungs weren't very generous in releasing her breaths. She gasped for air and her wheezing could be heard from around a meter away. She knew it was another attack as she patted beside her bed over the table, her hands frantically touching every object to make out an inhaler. Her vision grew blurry and slowly, she felt life being pulled from her body until hitting a dark space.

    It must have been the loud recurring taps which had sent for Maheen, who had been occupied with re-ordering the mass of dishes after the guests had left. There was a reason Raameen and Maheen were made to share a room, that too on level zero, so as to adhere to the 'No stairs' code promulgated on Raameen.

    Maheen grabbed the inhaler, carefully filled her lap with Raameen's head and pumped in a quick and careful course.

    When she fluttered her eyes open, Maheen had already burnt her with her fuming glare.

    "What did we talk about over-thinking?"

    Raameen carefully straightened on her back, still supine and dodging Maheen's question with all ease, no matter how rhetorical it seemed.

    "How many minutes?"
    Raameen referred to the minutes she was knocked out for.

    Maaheen laid beside her, their heads in a line.
    "Three-"

    They weren't looking at one another but at the wall across them.

    "And what's the highscore?"
    Her eyes trailed on the floral prints and it's leaves. Even they breathe fine.

    "It's eighteen minutes."
    Maheen said, her voice flat and sunken.

    "Pfft." Raameen scoffed.
    "I'll beat that someday."

    Maheen jumped up on her back and stood up straight on the floor now, to gulp some sense down her sister.
    "Aapi, don't talk like that. You know how much it hurts us to see you like this."

    Her eyes had watered and her expressions were scattering.
    "You know you're everything that's left after bhaiya-"

    Raameen had smiled through her glassy eyes too, then. A tear strum down as she raised and straightened her back, patting beside her. Maheen obeyed and plopped down, her face hung up like a kid whose candy was tossed on the ground.

    "You know why I fainted?"

    Maheen nodded a 'no'.

    And after a quick 10 minutes wrap, Raameen had filled in Maheen about everything that had clinged to her for the day, the load of which was pretty hefty but she couldn't deny she felt a lot lighter after confiding.

    "But isn't Ammar bhaiya like, three years younger than you?"
    The first thing Maheen asked earned an almost inaudible 'yes' from Raameen. It took every bit of Maheen to hold back her 17 year old adrenaline and not gush Raameen with more questions, given her poor lungs.

    "How could Ammar bhaiyya do something like that knowing you're his brother's bride to be?" Maheen was asking more to herself.

    Raameen hadn't had an answer to that either. However, Ammar had always been the 'troublesome' kind. She couldn't help but think back to the times she had meandered around carrying him, him only being an infant whilst she was full 3 years grown. The time when he pretended to act sick so he could skip a family trip, being only 6 and Raameen, 9; had willingly volunteered to look out for him. She reminisced his innocent face which she had failed to discern today.

    "Aapi!" Maheen shook her back to present, her voice cracking her recollection.
    "I said-" she pulled in a breath, "maybe he doesn't know?"

    Raameen wore a confused look which said, explain. She had been out for too long herself.

    "I mean- it had been a long time back they had shifted to Canada, say 15 years? Maybe he didn't recognize you?"

    Raameen felt like she was given a punch of sense. Ofcourse, he didn't recognize her! And he wasn't to blame for it hadn't been only for Ammar who had twisted the name tags, Raameen herself had wrongly identified him for being her future betrothed interest; Amir. She kicked herself for having gone over all the ways to pull back from this marriage. And then the worst dawned on her-

    'What if Ammar thinks she was Maheen?'

    "What if he thinks it was me?"
    Maheen had mirrored her thoughts in voice.

    "I don't want to talk about it."
    Raameen folded her legs in and wrapped her arms around them, her chin resting on either of her knee.

    "Maa said you were rude to Meera Aapi."
    Maheen found a way in the loop again.

    "I don't want to talk about her either. And I wasn't rude to her. She deserved every bit of my ignorance."

    "Is it true, Aapi?"
    Now, Maheen was leaning in closer and Raameen had a hunch of what followed.
    "Is Meera Aapi associated with bhaiya's death?"

    Raameen's face shot towards her, her eyes stabbing in her face as she seized her by her arms.
    "Who told you that?"

    "Maa said y-you believe bh-bhaiya died because Meera Aapi r-refused to marry him?"
    Her voice cracked up. It was the glares working.

    "What else did amma say?" Now Raameen spoke through gritted teeth, her grip strengthening.

    "That you're insane about it. And you don't know anything." A broken sigh followed.

    She released her arms, ensuing which was a minute or two of silence, never awkward but thoughtful for it was Maheen in the share.

    "I'm sorry-" Maheen weighed her hands over Raameen's shivering shoulder.

    "It's alright. It's just that-" Raameen's eyes were moist. Her palms kept rubbing her arms to bring out the warmth. She looked down at her wrists.

    "-I lost my charm today and nothing have seemed to go as I had planned."
    She bit her lips to resist herself from breaking out in sobs.
    "It was the last I had of bhaiyya to remember."

    "Oh." Maheen had known how dear Raameen had held the bracelet so she decided to stick to silence, given that any response could be taken in contrary in that very frail moment.

    "What about Amir bhaiya, hmmm?"
    Maheen tried a change of subject which had took Raameen by another wind.

    When she thought of it, she realized she didn't even take chance to think about Amir. He had striked as being that in possession of a very firm and sturdy personality. An unshakable ambience surrounded him, something that had to do with his cemented face. She wondered how life would be like with such a person.

    3 minutes into her pipe dream and her mother, Reshma had blown into the room with her phone clasped between her hands and a smile wider than her face which bespoke the obvious.

    "So, what did they say?"
    Raameen gathered her scruples and questioned which would have made more of a reason had she said- 'did we sweat ourselves out for good or not?'

    "They said yes!"

    And suddenly, she didn't know if it was any good at all.

    ©jewelskhan

  • jewelskhan75 27w

    We miss you-

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    Love is enchanting when a writer falls.
    Grief is mesmerizing when a fallen writes.

    -Waseem Akhtar