Who am I? In this Bright Darkness amidst Still Winds under the Heavy Lightness of clouds listening to Myth Realities veiling my skin in shrouds of Sugar Sorrows Filled with emptiness is the heart the unanswered questions Opaquly Transparent, Difficulty Simple standing like a Giant Insect WHO AM I? am I a Wealthy Beggar hunting for answers in modern world of Uneducated Literature?
Who was I? that drowned in burning flames and flew in Stationary Waves on the soil of Rained Droughts and days of Laughed Cries, trials of Innocent Crimes and rivers of Unholy Shrines WHO WAS I? was I an Adult Child solving problems longer than my height?
Who I used to be? I used to stroll on the walls of the past sticking pictures on Stainy Clean albums wearing a naked skin of Demonic Human during sunset in Pristine Drain I used to mirror myself Purely Contaminated in Silenced Anger, Colourfully White I used to be. WHO I USED TO BE? do you know? would you care to unearth the Irrational Reasons behind my lively death, find me behind the scenes behind the curtains with no stage to perform an act of life would you reopen the locked album where I am Smiling In Grief, Long lasting story so Brief woukd you weep your Happy tears that you didn't in so many years once I am gone.. would you Forgetfully Remember me For who I used to be For who I was For who am I half baked and Deadly alive because this is Not the last goodbye.... -Samiksha
Yesterday, I was floating as light as feathers Roaming in solitude splits collecting shells from the ignorant shores of Mumbai Nobody was sleeping and so was I Up! Like an owl of midnight, Wolf of an opera house in forest. Was trying to fill my lungs with the lights of the city of light, the smell of its spicy street foods bloating my belly, the Indo- Saracenic beauty calling to write a farewell note on the walls. But I had to leave soon, my baggage stuffed with CHILDHOOD. With the dools and rags I collected.
Today, I am broken looking at the golden sky of the city of joy The taste of its festivals and the thriving theatre art caged me like a lone spectator The careless whispers of folks reached my ears and my lips hummed their language Unknown to the indeciphered meanings Time flew by like fireflies of the marshland The previous baggage that I unpacked Was to be done again This time My baggage had the scent of dahlias and cosmos I grew in spring From seed to blooms Like I metamorphosed here I was carrying a piece of Kolkata In me And so was the city breathing an ounce of me My echoing voice of arguments and cheers for my friends.
Tomorrow I will be in another uninvited city Remembering my journey I will be scribbling some journals About the worn out walls On which I became the painter I am Writing on the walls And a family picture Broken from the corner Like each of us, tired with the baggages Yet I would carry my bagpack and pipes Tuning the music of my past life Of highs and lows Of gains and pains That each broken window pane gave The vibrating stories of my grandparents in air Will always be in my baggage The scent of the cities I travelled Will be smelled from the artefact memories I carry from their abode. I will carry the baggage from earth to heaven. -Samiksha
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ My father has a transferable job and it is always a story of packing and unpacking.. from Mumbai to Kolkata to Delhi to Neverland... #bagpack#wod#pod@mirakee@virtually_real PC : Pinterest
WHAT IS A HIJAB? // Only if you knew I was a silhouette of you//
A gift of scarf am I from the shops of Prophet. Embracing your curious head like sky over earth, stitched to you inseparably. Never rusted or dusted in the racks of almirah but shining in glitters of silk, for you keep me treasured as your mother's last memory.
The songs of innocence and your radiant smile keep the quest of love unempty. You were a five year old seed of your mother, when inquisitively you asked " what is a hijab Umi?" Her trembling fingers touched your head softly as if searching for the answer on my fabric. I whispered softly with the tunes of wind and she replied "a hat of your faith".
Oh women of all age don't condemn me and the embroidery of gulmohars in red weaved, as a hindrance to womanhood or your marches of liberty and freedom. I will be a companion from cradle to grave, a protective halo and a crown of ethereal ethics. When you will be a 'wandering lonely cloud' I will be your 'golden daffodil' 'fluttering and dancing in the breeze' Not a chain of patriarchy but a bliss of feminism am I. -Samiksha
No offence to any body Have I had more time may be I could have portrayed better. Will read to my mirakee friends amazing composition soon. See you all soon today! #concrete my first attempt of concrete, if not clear it's a hijab ( a covering scarf for head) #clothing#wod#pod@writersnetwork@mirakee
Haphephobia: The fear of touching or being touched.
TOUCH ME NOT
What I fear is the touch of others' skin on my brown cloak. I avoid my tears and find solace in my shell, close my wings so no light could enter. I wish to inject anesthesia.
My spirit burns under the sky of fingers searching me, producing currents further dismantling me into unrecognizable pieces. I search for fresh air to stretch my arms without touching yours.
So Touch me NOT or else I get coiled in knots around my neck. Bereft of words and expressions my face gets all pale. Don't leave your prints on my land, talk from a distance I will greet you with a solitary smile. -Samiksha
A shackled home in a pristine world Like a broken heart in a beautiful body I wander in woods of wisdom and will Guessing how to end it or it ended already I put on a coat and a pair of dusty shoes Walking by the riverside awaiting dawn I don't know if it's mine or damn who's But far beyond my sight I see a green lawn Lush green and brazen if you look for long Paradox of my thoughts or an insane road As I walk ahead I hear a familiar song It's a woman calling me to shed my load Oh, these bloody visions haunting me Why do I hear her sing when she's long gone? A spear in my hand just got some blood on it The blood of one who's in my dreams reborn She sings, "Just for once, let me free For once I beg you, my lord. Have mercy!" Drunk on the power my spear bestows I sink myself as low and the low goes She wails and screams to no avail The monster in me gets no frail I push the spear through her heart I watch in gasps her soul depart
Following day I count butterflies in the lawn The shimmering sun comes to my rescue I follow the sunlight where nobody's gone Thinking of how to pay the devil its due I walk into a cave where I find many skulls There must've been a war inside before Shedding my load of spear down on rocks I intend to listen the songs sung ashore Every soul departing in agony leaves a mark For people to come next and listen to them On surface of rocks and tree's barks The lost souls write a thousand anthems Shattering the sky and breaking the wind These songs travel to unravel all memories No matter how long they go unheard Their screams someday become reveries We don't have music to soothe our hearts We must've had it to keep the dead alive The gods and demons and fallen angels When we die, the music helps them survive
Broken to the level of disgust I find nothing could bring me peace I pick up all skulls and sing to them A song of how to surrender or to seize I break into tears upon my own sins Murdering someone murdered me within All I dreamt of was a way to end myself Or a way to wipe my unforgivable sin
Then a skull began soaring up in air I watched it laugh at me in despair Its eyes glowed gold and red It told me something in a low voice He said, "When you disregard other people's humanity, you also kill yours." I wept and wept on the floor of that cave The world outside seemed timid And I looked not so brave What does it take to find oneself? Just knowing the monster within you And keeping an eye on it. All the time.