In hopes that this comes true but somewhere in the corner of my heart, I believe that this is true. He's watching over us and taking care of us.
This is way too close to my heart. Dadu passed away when I was 10 months old and I've heard so much about him that even if I become a quarter of what he was, I'd thank my stars. He's my dad's superhero and I've never met a person that didn't admire him.✨ #travel#gravec
I visited this cafe in November 2019 and it has caught my heart ever since. The cafe is dressed up in colourful notes, and quotes and notes to God, crushes, mom, friends, and even notes to the future me, it was overwhelming. Hoping I get to be there soon, and see whether my chits are still there, hehe.
The rainbow has faded, Into an abyss of broken dreams Sugar coated with stolen lies, Of crooked smiles and one-sided romance. The stars decorating ornaments of Dots and dashes, in the cloudy sky, You were my only star, in these devilish nights, My ray of light.
Hidden beneath the surface of my skin, Were the lyrics of your gravelly voice Those which you sung out loud, Effacing the demons in my sleep. Our silence, spoke throughout the night, As our hands intertwined, and bodies cuddled, Lost in your honey brown eyes, I overlooked the lies, in your sweet whispers, Delicately wrapping you, in my arms and poetries, Forever didn't seem like a myth anymore.
And suddenly, You pulled your hand away, When I had a bad dream last night, And told that you didn't love me anymore, I begged you to stay, I didn't want to drown All over again, But you slammed the doors to my heart, Without any reason, and locked the remains, On your way out. Today, I saw you, with her, The girl you told me, not to worry about, At our spot, you showed her the clouds, And brushed the hair off her cheeks Her laughter skipped your heartbeat, While mine, unravelled faded butterflies In your belly, I cried because you changed. The whole of you disappeared, You became a guy, I never really knew.
Across the crossroads, tonight, Where you said an 'I love you' for the first time, I stand beside the graveyard of our memories, Wondering, Sometimes when people say forever, Why don't they actually mean it?
Ps. Repost with slight edits. That was temp, so is this. Words refuse to leave my mind. They're hidden in my conscience.
Midnights perfuse with undeciphered silence and under the lampshade of grandma's tales lay uncountable anecdotes of antiquated folklores, apropos of bad omens, unholy priests with rabid eyes and virtuous spirits that feed on raw fish, And the chaste women jinxed and capitulated to demonic possession, lingering beneath the infamous banyan tree, her long tresses over her stygian face and chapped lips murmuring uncanny whispers followed by a mephistophelian cackle.
Saffron moon beams, silent chaos oscillating with our infantile minds brimming with curiosity and grandma's wane teeth stained with masticated bettle leaf, her hands incessantly pounding the pestal in the mortar left with few chunks of beetle nuts, eyes embraces stupor as the lamp dozes to a dim state and the moon being Left alone with grandma's transient tales Approaching an end, tucks the duvet of pale clouds over his head
Grandma's hands kindles an aged sun On the glass skies, knitting with pastel panoramas blended of saffron gaiety and pewter gloom that stirs up everytime she accidentally boils memories of grandpa's demise on the furnace instead of brewing black tea with a piece of jaggery on the plate Burning her paper heart with blisters the theory of her insides evanesce before our eyes could seek a panaceas for her eclipsed soul.
She hides her earth sized ache and black holes on her heart that tends to heal with anticipation of her sons homecoming on every verge of the harvest festival. Yet, loitering between faded and forgotten, her muffled cries camouflage behind the curtains of solarized eyes. When both her sons deposit ginormous cash on her bank account, clothing her soul with excuses
She educates us with veracities instead of hymns. "We are all lost stars, trying to light up the dark" Grandma narrated us thousand different reveries that she stacked on a utopic corner of her heart , Stroking our heads crooning miraculous lullabies with her wrinkled hands dazed With million chores. Little did we know, dysphoric ephialtes were planting monochrome melancholy in her eyelids And paper cuts on her salted wounds.
The journey reminiscing my Grandma, alchemises my pain with nostalgia And like chewing broken glass, My throat stings with bygones memories, And my eyes sings, "Paper hearts weighs more than the stone minds"
DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE AND WEEP By Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.
I've been there you know, to the place where the sun always shines. To the place where the moon makes its own light. Where it doesn't have to listen to the stars laughing at it and calling it a useless parasite.
I've been there you know, to the place where the sunflower let's other flowers grow. To the place where there are fields of beautiful flowers and bees. Where even when it rains the sky is never gloomy.
I've been there you know, to the place where the air isn't difficult to breath in. To the place where pollution doesn't exist. Where everything is as beautiful as it was made.
I've been there you know, to the place where judgement doesn't exist. To the place where you can be you. Where you're allowed to live your own life without people's meddling.
I've been there you know, to the place where all your beautiful dreams come alive. To the place where there's no doom or gloom. Where the only tears you cry are tears of happiness and joy.