riyabhagtani

A 15 year old scribbling. Twirling, all the time! Let no one leave you without being happier.

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  • riyabhagtani 181w

    I know your face has gotten new acne this morning and you can see sugar around your stomach. You regret drinking extra beer, I know. And I won't tell you that you're beautiful. The world is beautiful. That everyone has flaws and it's okay. I won't tell you to get up and run either. To add acne creams and weight loss drinks in the grocery list. I won't tell you that you can still carry those pair of denims with a touch of no-makeup-makeup-look where you mix two different foundations because you're too dark and don't find any shade. I won't tell you to buy heels for the party and not move around. Because you're a dot, sometimes a little bigger, which they name "popular". But world moves on with your fluorescent dress in the night party or the one especially designed for you. World moves on with or without your nude shade lipstick. Nobody cares about your thick thighs and stout shape. Your skin shade is not their first morning thought, I promise. You don't stay in their mind for more than few minutes. So, it's okay if you've no jawline or no highlighter is able to highlight your cheekbones. It's okay to accept that you've a little more flaws and that they're not beautiful. So, sit back. Have Nutella if you want to. Run an extra mile if that's what you've decided. Shop brands. Shop streets. Have to-do lists and forget they exist by February. Stick them on your mirror and fridge and remember to save and visit your dream country next December. Come out and do what you want to. Because life is not too short. It's too big to have what you want to. You're just wasting it hesitating.
    ©riyabhagtani

  • riyabhagtani 181w

    There's a reason I don't write about us,
    We are not different.
    I didn't meet you while travelling,
    I didn't long for years,
    We didn't hate each other in the beginning,
    We were not best friends.
    No, we are not different.
    You don't take me to expensive cafes,
    You don't take me to the tea stall either,
    We linger in between.
    We fail while dancing together,
    Your left leg doesn't co-ordinate with the right,
    And I don't sing lullabies,
    As you like.
    We are not perfect,
    We don't fit in.
    I don't look at stars and ask you questions,
    You don't write poems about me in your secret diary.
    I like it when we share cheesecake at the end of the month,
    And repeat drinks in the beginning of the other.
    I like it how you don't keep calling me when I don't want to talk,
    And know that I may not reach to you at 3 am.
    I like it how we don't relate to metaphors,
    How we are not wine,
    Tasting better with time.
    We are same kids,
    Bringing each other chocolates when running out of time,
    We still fight over our favourite sportsmen,
    Webseries,
    Food,
    Books.
    And these simple things are not a new adventure with you,
    With you,
    They're too good,
    To not be real.
    ©riyabhagtani

  • riyabhagtani 181w

    I wanna fall in love with you.
    I wanna write poems with no metaphors and complications,
    Just for you,
    I don't wanna post them, for once.
    I wanna tell you everything,
    Likes and dislikes,
    Stories,
    Sometimes make them up,
    Just to talk to you.
    I wanna love you unconditionally,
    Be pure with you.
    I wanna stay with you and experience everything I have been imagining
    I wanna feel good to not have that guy in my life,
    I wanna forget everyone who is bad,
    I wanna see good with you,
    I wanna chill with you,
    For the rest of my life, every moment,
    I wanna be real,
    I don't wanna be sophisticated
    I wanna make mispronounce words with you,
    I wanna contemporary on sad tunes life throws at us,
    Hip hop, quite often.
    I want you to be there,
    Still be independent,
    I wanna have paradoxes with you and still not be ashamed,
    I want us to be equally contributing,
    I wanna be impossible things with you,
    I don't know where you are,
    I hope every single day you exist,
    If you do, you meet me,
    I am not desperate for love,
    I am desperate for us,
    To be together,
    I am desperate to know the other half that u won't imagine,
    I pray for it to be positive,
    I am tired of writing sad poems,
    Of exaggerating,
    Imagining,
    I wanna be with you,
    For the rest of my life,
    Without meeting you.
    ©riyabhagtani

  • riyabhagtani 181w

    Life; as a person, would be you.
    Candies, in beginning,
    Candids, saved for later.
    At times, a hello and a goodbye in the same wave,
    And others,
    Discussing museums and books,
    With coffee in one hand and love in the other.
    In the morning; happening,
    In the evening; gulping emotions like your favourite beer.
    Tough; yet exciting.
    Failing; but not falling,
    Running faster instead,
    It gets harder to catch up.
    Holding hands with others,
    Knowing that you're alone.
    Perhaps, not getting attached too fast.
    Silent; working your way.
    Miserable; yet mysterious.
    Love and fear, at once,
    Fear for love, love for fear.
    Hated by everybody,
    Yet worn like a crown on Instagram stories.
    Light with patches of darkness,
    Darkness attracting too fast.
    Parts as incidents,
    Not making sense,
    Not fitting in.
    When arranged together,
    Making art,
    Another topic to discuss about over a coffee,
    Because, life, as a person, would be you,
    Tragic and tame.
    ©riyabhagtani

  • riyabhagtani 181w

    Promises.
    They are scary.
    They are bad memories,
    You've moved on from,
    Coming out,
    Tangling things up.
    They're letters,
    Full of pain,
    Running in your veins,
    Unread;
    Perhaps unanswered.
    Promises,
    Devastated his ma,
    And him,
    And generations to go,
    Claiming to be true,
    Scaring people,
    Of words and conversations,
    Leaving silence.
    So, I ,
    I don't promise,
    I don't promise to be there,
    With my shoulders held up at 3am
    I don't promise to be the strength,
    To fix you,
    When I am broke.
    I don't promise to be your company,
    When solitude is all I've believed in.
    I don't promise to love you everyday,
    Never feel sick of you,
    And when I somehow do,
    Take pills,
    Of memories,
    Like ma does for the headache.
    I don't promise to take you to expensive cafes when I can't afford tea for myself,
    Give you flowers,
    That stay on the table at night,
    And morning,
    In litter,
    With letters,
    Full of pain,
    Running in my veins.
    I don't promise to stay at the doorstep,
    Of the house you've shifted from.
    I don't promise to stay in this home, either,
    Just like the time.
    So, when you ask me to tell you my darkest sides,
    I don't promise to believe in your promises,
    To stay blindfolded,
    Claiming to be in love,
    Love, that you promised was only colours.
    ©riyabhagtani

  • riyabhagtani 181w

    I didn't know this December's cold was going to stay,
    Forever.
    I've tried sitting near the fireplace,
    It doesn't work.
    So maybe that's why,
    I need to break up with you.
    Now, you don't know you were in this relation,
    Is one sided love even a relation?
    But if I could write this one,
    I'd write us in volumes,
    Till I breathe last.
    So yes, I break up with you.
    In the real world, for now at the least.
    Today, I won't want you to be there,
    I won't talk to you about my day.
    I won't play songs and dance your part as well,
    I won't let it make me happy.
    Because, I let you go,
    I let you go without having you.
    I smile and suck the pain in,
    I see you and change my direction,
    Because that's what lovers are supposed to do.
    I see you in a suit and a red tie,
    It matches with her dress,
    She smiles,
    Afterall, she owns lavender flowers with rose fragrance,
    A touch of magic, as well.
    I see how she makes the parts of you beautiful,
    The ones I didn't know existed.
    I see how she makes you go places,
    I'd keep you at home,
    Vulnerable.
    I'd not write you fancy letters,
    Or bring flowers whenever we'd meet.
    I'd scream,
    And not message you "Good Morning",
    I'd not dedicate you poems,
    And not talk to you in sweet voice,
    I'd tell you everything that I think before telling other people.
    But, today I open my arms,
    Stretch them wide,
    I see pain, running towards me,
    I see you, going,
    And I as you'd always ask me to inform you,
    Inform you that I've reached home.
    ©riyabhagtani

  • riyabhagtani 184w

    Love, is a city.
    Maybe Paris,
    Too hyped.
    Maybe Taos,
    Underrated.
    You've never been to either of them.
    You come back from the airport,
    Run home.
    You're afraid of light that leads to darkness,
    Fire in him, leading to winter.
    You're afraid of falling apart,
    Layer by layer,
    Standing naked,
    Waiting for new skin to grow.
    You've stopped believing in love that sparkles,
    Every guy just seems another broken promise,
    You're broken without being hurt.
    But, I want you to go for this adventure.
    I know most of us fail,
    But it surely exists.
    The calls that make your day,
    The texts that make you jump off your desk,
    The young energy,
    Rains with happy poems,
    Winters with his warmth,
    A day out in summer,
    You deserve it all.
    You deserve to see a guy knowing that it may lead you to forever.
    Because baby,
    If you don't see what you want,
    How'd you get it?
    It's not that you may not fall,
    But the moments will make it all worth it,
    I promise.
    Don't be afraid,
    Take a step,
    Stop doubting,
    Believe in flowers,
    Don't observe them too much to see how they're fading.
    Look at them, smile often.
    Set yourself free,
    From hurt and harm.
    For once,
    Don't read quotes describing depression.
    You're above all,
    You're life,
    Choose the happier one?
    ©riyabhagtani

  • riyabhagtani 184w

    Remember you always told me if something has come, it must go? How we spent days and weeks talking about heartbreaks rather than telling how much we loved each other. It was like we were tired of our sufferings so we tried to exchange them. You once told me you'd leave. You gave me light and lead me to darkness. There were nights you'd sit with me in a bar, sipping Rum and telling me all your dreams that didn't come true. There'd be days when you'd see my texts next minute I send them and not reply. Be it asking for another date or me being sick. You didn't care. You were miserable but magical. So, there came a day, when you left. Perhaps on a purple path, dark but a little light for you to not fall. You left on unknown trails. I knew it. So, I didn't cry. I still don't. You told me how moving on was possible, sooner for some and later for the other, but it was a part of us. But this is something else. It's not like I sit and watch movies that you loved, to find your pieces in them. I laugh. Louder, maybe. I talk to people and listen to their happy stories. I perform poetries that don't have you. My life is running at the velocity it should be right now. Everything here just seems so fine. But then, at the end of the day, I open up the part that I have wrapped with fancy papers and flowers. It is empty. It doesn't show his emptiness. But it is. It's not pretending, it really likes doing everything that it does, but still the part is like a scar. It is etched and it won't go. This part keeps demanding to text you. Re-read your happy messages. Maybe drink once in a while so that it can call you and not regret later. There is a part of it that isn't walking. It's just there where we met. And it isn't like I haven't tried. But on coffee dates with him, it reminds me of the coffee smell you used to hate and how I never used to apply coffee shampoo the day I had to meet you. This guy loves my coffee- smelling- hair. But now, I am addicted to the smell of cigarettes and heartbreaks. I love the aura of not moving on and sticking there. In case, your unknown trail leads you here, I leave you this part of me. Someday, when you won't get the whole me, we'll sit on starless nights and discuss heartbreaks, again. We'll again not talk about how much we love each other.
    ©riyabhagtani

  • riyabhagtani 184w

    Winter, as a person, is misunderstood.
    He is lonely, now.
    He's cold; not heartless.
    He gives her these chills to make her run faster,
    She sits and complains.
    He cries,
    His tears are snow.
    He is hated now,
    He hears screams cursing him.
    The ones who love him aren't around,
    They are out,
    Making snowmen,
    Skiing , perhaps.
    He brings us warmth.
    The one you'd not search for on a sunny day.
    But, he is still cold,
    Waiting on window panes,
    Car slides,
    Crying snow.
    He loves summer,
    He is an one-sided lover.
    He expects a lot as well.
    He turns colder on nights he needs summer,
    Expecting they'd bring her.
    They hate him, you see.
    So, he writes poetries,
    On dry leaves,
    That probably get dumped.
    They don't reach summer.
    He believes in meetings after a long time,
    The hot chocolate ; the pancakes.
    The diaries you'd not open on summer weekends,
    He brings you closer to them, again.
    He keeps you at home.
    He is home.
    But he leaves, every year,
    Hearing prayers who wish to kick him out.
    He is love,
    A different type of love.
    He is not colors,
    He is monotonous,
    Settling on grey mostly.
    He is subtle,
    Away from all the chaos.
    Still hoping for love,
    Waiting on leaves, reminding you his existence,
    Car slides that you wash away in hurry before going to office.
    He has started giving up.
    He is fading away,
    Letting spring in,
    Waiting on some destinations for acceptance,
    Getting kicked,
    He is fading way.
    In the valley of February flowers,
    He is gone.
    ©riyabhagtani

  • riyabhagtani 184w

    Tonight, I toast,
    To all the times I have let you in.
    To all the times I thought you were busy,
    In your business, I knew.
    To all the times when I've told you everything,
    Peeled my layers off,
    Stood naked,
    For you to laugh on Saturday night with your friends.
    To all the nights when I've waited,
    Till the dawn,
    And dusk again,
    Till forever.
    To all the times I've stopped the thoughts of you not being here let in.
    To all the times when I wanted to be everything,
    But stopped,
    For we had one road and two souls.
    To all the times when I've let it all go,
    To be empty and happy.
    Guess I am not both.
    I am full of filth of your fakeness
    I know there were no commitments,
    There was no way of expecting anything from you,
    When you'd text me everyday,
    Asking how was my day.
    From morning till night,
    Knowing why I've smiled and laughed and cried.
    Being the only text,
    In this loneliness,
    You were my favourite sound.
    But guess what,
    There were no commitments,
    So you left,
    In silence of dawn,
    With no trails.
    Expecting me to write poems,
    On desperate one-sided love.
    And the ones where girl waits for him,
    With hopes and love.
    I am done with them.
    Today,
    Let me write something else,
    Today let me write poetries full of hate,
    The ones that mention how you stared me when you didn't have an answer,
    The one that was annoying and absurd.
    I'll write about the times you cancelled our movie date for your friends.
    I'll write about stories you posted with everyone but me.
    I'll write parts of you,
    And a whole of me,
    Signifying how I should always be a protagonist,
    Of my life story.
    Today,
    I will shed no tears,
    Be brave,
    See sunshine,
    And for the first time,
    Tell myself,
    "Hello, Sunshine! Welcome home!"
    ©riyabhagtani