Miraquill
I think I'm Van Gogh
saifffalii
Send me a Sunflower if we ever stop talking he/him
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saifffalii
68w
Read MoreI think I'm Van Gogh,
you make me feel like him.
Yellow was your favourite colour and so were sunflowers.
I swallowed yellow paint
in an effort to know its joy.
I think I'm Van Gogh,
you make me feel like him.
I sketched my heart
till my love became starry.
I burnt my lips.
Like Van Gogh,
' I thought I would be understood without words. '
My ink on your body became colourless,
that was the moment I realised my love needs no canvas.
I think I am Van Gogh.
-Saif Ali
@writersnetwork
@readwriteunite -
The sunflower that I will present to you
grow in the saddest part of me.
And if you only knew how good it smelled,
it will fade away once you leave
Saif Ali -
Breathe my anxiety into your heart,
close your eyes and inhale my silence,
drown inside the realm of my sadness,
taste my solitude - you must know
you never come back from there,
lay there away from me and hear my fumbling dead voice.
My heart is under the debris collect the ashes.
- Saif Ali -
saifffalii
101w
Read More
// a mental package. //
You can never be Indian just to pretend to be
Who are you an Indian or Pakistani first?
Orange or green? which one are you?
'Red' my heart screamed.
Outside the house my practice is to respond the prejudices about my religion
or the colour my heart belongs to.
It breaks my heart to read about the principle of 'secularism' and to be questioned
about my identity at the same.
It breaks my heart to read about.
Which part of a skin shall I tear with my own hands to show the love that runs in my veins for the country I belong to? I wear love for my country and I wish this garment could have been naked!
I chant 'National anthem' to the wind.
I do 'wuzoo' from the water of this land.
My forefathers wrote their name on the soil fighting the kargil war.
But it seems,
the wind is a bad listener,
the water is a bad carrier to my emotion,
and the soil does not remember names.
I want to go away from the people who would later call me ' anti-nationalist.' They call me this. It's a word they use for my existence.
My heart is a tree heavy-laden with the love for it's country, for it's roots would never be shaken. It's a metaphor I use for my existence in this country I belong to.
-Saif Ali
___________
@writersnetwork.
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saifffalii
110w
Read More
Love to me was always defined as endowing things with their unique qualities. It's like a fragrance in the nostrils, a taste which excites the palate, a texture which is a joy to cares, a melody which touches the heart. To come close to love is an everlasting garden of brilliant colours and delicate fragrances. Love is like, to hear a music that one might wish it's enchantment to last forever.
Later did I realize, love exists not in vacuum. if love crowns you with all the tenderness, if love wipes all the pain and vain, if love makes you grow into a better person, if love makes you sleep with joy and you wake up at the dawn with a happy heart. It shall crucify you too, It shall prune your growth and prick your heart too. It shall take all the tenderness with itself.
The U - turn love takes, your bones get fermented, your rib sinks down to the stomach. Every day becomes a nightmares with the memories it brings. It crushes down every little thing to despair, without any hope of repair.
And then you stand on the ashes of who you used to be!
-Saif Ali
@writersnetwork.
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saifffalii
111w
Read More
TW : Depression / Suicide. //
Nobody goes into peace without sorrow, not without a wound in the spirit. // Depression engulfs you with it's wing so hard that coming out of it seems impossible, and even if you try to, the sword hidden amidst it's pinion would kill you. / And then you REST IN PEACE! //
Depression has become a pet word for people defining sadness. / People throw the word "depressed" around like as if it's oxygen. // Though nothing should be called depression untill it makes you quiver even in the sun. / Untill it makes you choke to almost death, even if you are standing on the shore line of an ocean. / Until the death sails the dream. / Until it knots your tongue and seals your lip to talk about it. //
People don't lose a chance to ask if I'm you are mentally ill. / People don't lose a chance to tag you as an emotionally cold human, if you fail to react. / People don't lose a chance to call you morbid. / People don't lose a chance to humiliate you about your depression publicly, calling it either 'nautanki' or an an 'attention seeking' behaviour. / People don't lose a chance to criticize you about your taste in things. / People don't lose any damn chance to descend to yours roots and shake it to scatter your spirit into pieces. // And then people don't even lose a chance to be kind on their social media posts about depression, hypocrisy and Irony at it's best! //
-Saif Ali
@writersnetwork.
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saifffalii
112w
Read More
I'm a moth that loves flame.
The death it brings,
nobody has to be blamed.
I'm a wax that melts before the fire.
Ironically, the wicked ache
doesn't perish and expire.
I'm valiant soldier in dreams.
My heart hears not
the vehement screams.
I'm dark and empty lantern.
For to stay, alive at night, shall fill it with oil.
Nobody's shall burn therein, but my flame!
-Saif Ali
@writersnetwork
@philosophic_firefly.
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saifffalii
112w
Read More
There are days I feel like happily alive
And then there are days I feel like a dead body.
There are days I see hope in my dream.
And then there are days, in dreams death screams.
There are days, I have a sound sleep !
And then there are days, when thoughts gather round my bed.
There are days, I forget everything from the past.
And then there are days, when memories rip my heart out of my soul.
There are days, I interact a lot with people.
And then there are days, I feel like humans are horrible.
There are days I leave my worries at shore lines.
And then there are days, I feel like drowning, and not able to breath!
There are days when everything is mute and calm.
And then there are days, there's a voice that screams loud inside my head, telling me I'm not good enough and I'm falling behind.
There are days I'm filled with positive thoughts.
And then there are days, my brain is fogged with darkness and hopelessness.
-Saif Ali
@writersnetwork
@philosophic_firefly.
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saifffalii
112w
Read More
Wherever,
I'm with you
Through & through.
Oh, your eyes with depth of emotions,
I want to drown in right through.
Oh, your sullen lips,
I want to sink in, into
Wherever,
I'm with you
Through & through.
Don't you feel black and blue,
Even if I'm not in your lovers queue
I'm with you through & through.
I've known your deepest and darkest secrets.
Dost thou understand?
I'll always love you.
Wherever,
I'm with you
Through & through.
I am, when I'm with you.
Thou made me realize,
Love is pure and true
And,
Even if I'm not in your lovers queue
I'll still love you
Through & through.
When you fail tryin',
When happiness turns into crying,
and your head needs a shoulder for laying.
Just come through,
Feel free to do.
Wherever,
I'm with you,
Through & through.
I'm with you,
Through & through....
-Saif Ali
____________________________
@writersnetwork
@writerscommunityWherever,
I'm with you!
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fairytales_ 68w
Read MoreI've never been to love school, no one ever taught me how to love yet I did. With all, I had to do, with all of my heart, to all of your heart.
I've learned to love selfishly without a doubt I've learnt that love is peaceful when it's true.
You wholly owned my kindness, even after being rude to the world. I would still want to be sweet to you. I never liked myself, my life, my place.
but then you came things changed everything which I thought was mine is yours.
Out of hundred different things to be good at,
I've chosen love. You say I'm good with words.
No, I refused to take that as a compliment. I want to smirk at you for saying it.
I'm a river of sin that flows towards grief,
can't let you drench in it. Out of million different reasons to live for. I want you to be the one who can make it happen,
all the possibilities and impossibilities.
I'm scared to love
but I'm scared to be unloved more
I'm scared of love
but I'm scared of losing love more
I want you to set me free.
I want you to keep me caged.
©fairytales_
I heard it somewhere if it doesn't hurt it's not love.
what is it if it hurts alone?
Incomplete just like us.
how long can a person love?
@zoya_charmz ❤
#jelsalove4'52 am
2078/02/06
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_aradhya
68w
Read More"I'm a flame shot of fire
I'm the dark in need of light"
- Firestone, Kygo
@writersnetwork @mirakee #pod #languageart
@_guts_Maktub
The grief one calm person faces
When he looks at the chaotic places
Engulfing him into the madness of the air
That surrounds him, making him feel like he's their player
Is the kind of sadness which is addictive
Where his demon whom he described as vindictive
Ultimately got his revenge and won
In the battle of good and bad, he was the one
Who wore the crown, and the good is now held hostage
In the reign of his darkness and now the calm person's soul is savage.
He wants to believe that everything is written,
He wants to believe that the devil inside him is driven
By his fate and destiny which has something good stored in the future
But he can't help have thoughts which would ultimately rupture
All his hopes and dreams and would make his soul hollow from inside
Where the good hiding inside him, no longer wants to reside.
He wants to believe his fate
But if he sees his fate getting filled with hate
How can he believe it has something worth the wait?
It's better to give in, accept defeat and make the demon his mate.
He looks at the lines of his palm, they are blurred
He doesn't hear the advice the world gives him for he has been left unheard
Many a times in places when he was about to hit the surface
And had no one to call or anyone understand his place.
So now when he is numb, the world expects him to hear their sound
He questions, "Where were you when I was on the ground?"
Can't you tell by now that it's not him talking?
Can't you tell by now that on the streets it's not him walking?
It's the darkness inside him that is.
It's the demon inside him that is.
In the war of good and bad
The bad won, and oh it's so sad
To see how chaos can change you
And bring out a strange you
A desensitised you
A hurt you
A sad you.
He wants to believe in Maktub and in the lines of his palm
But he has left his fate in the hands of the gloominess inside him.
Everything is written,
This pain in written.
"Guess this must be my in my stars," he says.
"Guess I shouldn't fight anymore," he says.
And he accepts.
He accepts.
©_aradhya -
_aradhya
68w
Read More
It was 3 am. It's always 3 am, when I find myself searching for the torn pages of my diary on the line of whose words were written in the blue colour of the ink. The time I wrote this, this blue colour didn't bring sadness to my heart, but rather clarity, for I was a writer who wrote truths, not the kind of lies which gave false hope to the people who depend on me for showing a path to them.
Now the blue ink brings nothing but sadness. Maybe that's why, I try to search for those pages, to feel the same ink, trace my fingers through the page and feel the exact thing I felt in that time. People say as you grow older, you attain maturity in thoughts. But to me it seems like, I'm finding myself in more twisted and tangled threads of uncertainty and confusion, where I can't write clearly.
Because I myself am not clear. I'm becoming devoid of things which brought me happiness, of my truths.
I filled myself with these lies. And every 3 am, reminds me of the day I wrote the first piece without even knowing I was writing. It was a rant. A diary entry. I was small, innocent, someone who made a lot of spelling mistakes and grammatical errors, but more importantly, I was true. Now I feel like I cheat my pieces, the only thing that was my escape from this world, is now trapping me in a world of it's own who's creator is me. I weaved it with a web of lies.
Suddenly I remembered today, that those pages of my diary were torn and thrown away by the part of me which forgot the other part of myself. I threw the torn pieces from the same place where I found myself standing a few moments ago. The edge of the skyscraper.
And just then, I mumble these lines to myself,
"On days of cotton candy skies, and nights surrounded with crushed blotted papers,"
I try to go on, the true part of me is pushing me to go on. And I go on, mindlessly yet being mindful at the same time, a beautiful irony enveloping me. I go on and say, "I find my truth in conflict with my lies, and they are in war as I stand at the edge of this skyscraper."
It suddenly hit me. The lines I just said, rhymed. They had a part of me in them. I rushed down, blinked my tears away and took out my old diary from which I had torn pages. It broke my heart little to see only five of the pages being there, but I pushed the little heartbreak away, and I wrote. I wrote these lines.
For the first time, in what seems like a lifetime, I found that the blue ink of the pen doesn't bring me pain anymore. It brings me redemption. As I write each and every word, I entangle every thread of the web of lies I created. I find the pages. I cannot touch them, but I know what was written. I remember the texture of the page, I remember the words, I remember the ink that brought me happiness.
I had started writing in pencils, because I didn't have the courage to use pens. But today I used a blue coloured pen. It brought clarity. It felt good.
It felt free.
And as I'm crying and smiling at the same time, I'll just end with the same first two lines I mumbled on the edge of skyscraper.
On days of cotton candy skies,
And nights surrounded with crushed blotted papers
I find my truth disentangle my lies
And the war which started at the skyscraper, ended at the skyscraper.
- Aradhya
This piece is inspired from a write up written by @_guts_ whose title is the same as mine.
The two lines, "On the days of cotton candy skies, and nights surrounded with crushed blotted papers" does not belong to me. It was written by @_guts_
Rutvi, you write amazingly. And I always wanted to write something on these two lines. Also, surprise.
@writersnetwork hi, i miss you, show me some love?
@mirakee
#truthc @writersbay
I didn't re read the post, typo errors and grammatical ones, please mention or ignore. Thank you.On Days of Cotton Candy Skies
On days of cotton candy skies
And nights surrounded with crushed blotted papers,
I find my truth in conflict with my lies
They are in war as I stand at the edge of this skyscraper.
©_aradhya -
literarydystopia
73w
Read MoreThat's how Virginia Woolf put a full stop to her life.
One of my favourite quote from Virginia Woolf is - " one does not love a place the less because one has suffered in it. " What's yours?
@writersnetwork
@readwriteuniteVirginia Woolf
" She places heavy rocks in the pockets of her coat ensuring that this time she will stay at the bottom of the river and not resurface before her lungs fill with water. When she finally fully gets into the movement of the river her hat float slowly away from her head downstream. "
©literarydystopia -
siddiqua_
102w
Read MoreThe numbing darkness was spelled all over the heavens, the westwind was blowing too swift carrying all my wishes apart in the elysian sky. Evoking awful nightmares and disillusioned wishes, my hope was turning into black ash smoke from a dying smoker's lung. Now, the phantom voice sends a chill down my spine. I yearn to tear myself from this reality, this chimera, and rise up like a cloud, float away into the colossal universe or dissolve myself somewhere too far from this actuality.
/The air of expectancies has an attitude of prophylactic that inhibits all your hopes and fantasies to be fulfilled./
Perhaps we humans are bounded with fresh optimism and sanguinity that prevents ourselves from enduring despondency. The irony that day and night can never be together, now in a fleeting moment, both were burning like a brilliant orange hue. And from this glorious sunset a beacon of hope bloomed inside my bleak soul swinging like daisies in bucolic surrounding. I stood gazing at the peculiar stillness, listening to the universe that offered me absolute silence. In a flash, the scintillating stars plunge out from the above sky to let my wish to not fade like a miraculous tale that seldomly transpire into anecdotes. A contended feeling of perfectly placed optimism and blissful moments rushed through my nerves and I smiled back at those enigmatic stars.
/And maybe stars are deific entity meant to do wonders in our hapless lives./
-Siddiqua_
#daadisbae #writersnetwork
#daadigotyourback
@mirakee_ki_naanima
@mirakee_ki_daadima
@writersnetwork.
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The subtle touch of his fingertips on my collarbone smelled like a poetry with verses drilling inside the skin and making it alive.
©dusky_dawn -
After all these times, what shines between us are still those momentary random things.
The unexpected ones.
Like seeing your letter kept very secretly in the "Pride and the Prejudice" , the same page where William Darcy confesses,“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
The unobvious ones.
Like holding my hands through the bustling road.
Like shifting me away from the road and towards the pavement as the cars zoomed in speed.
Maybe you just were being you. Maybe you did it unconditionally, out of love, out of the feelings that fluttered to be expressed. You did. You loved and you forgot. You forgot, after leaving a momentous seat for yourself in my heart.
In this absolutely conditioned and controlled world, you gave me an infinity filled with unconditional love that poured on and on from the brink of your heart.
In this world where love is all moulded and shaped, you have shown me what it is like to let it flow freely, to let it make us feel what it is, to not hastily know it.
You told me what's love if not raw? What's love if not revealing your flaws?
And as you sleep here, just beside me with a book on your chest, one hand between the pages, the other clasping my arms, I still fail to believe the universe, as it aligned with all it's chaos shut deep down in the voids, just to match the rhythm of my heart beats with yours.
©fatima_roomi -
fatima_roomi
110w
Read MoreAs I long for you in the dark,
in the brown
jaded eyes
of mine,
I see your soul,
naked,
you smile,
captivating me endlessly.
As I long for you,
in these forlorn nights,
in my yearning
Little heart,
I see your being,
Indeed paradisiac,
calling me,
engulfing me,
beguiling me.
As I long,
eternally,
You are gone,
for an eternity.
©fatima_roomiAs I long for you to touch my chaos.
As I yearn for you to cease my loss.
©fatima_roomi -
pavithratej
112w
so much I know,
yet a little
I could comprehend
of all the love
you've bestowed
on these ruthless
days of mine;
you're that promising
hope that keeps me
alive all through the
rough and tough times
and I would choose
only you for the rest
of my life.
©pavithratej -
And somewhere in the midst of the clouds
You found me ...
And for the first time I was thankful to darkness ...
©adorable_she
