Fading black

Green trees, grass.
Brown tree trunks, sandals on people’s feet.
A guy in blue, a girl too.
Some in orange, a few others in pink.
Red bricks, the colour of a guy’s backpack.
Grey flooring, skies.
Cream walls, the cricket team’s jersey.

It’s strange how much I notice colour these days
How often I write about it.

Strange because I haven’t experienced anything but black for a long, long time.

 

*Featured Image Courtesy – https://www.therpf.com/showthread.php?t=117802

 

 

My colour of hope

I’ve seen nothing but black for so long now
Heavy thuds ring in my ears
I lack any organs it seems, I am so empty
So broken
I know no smell but that of human poison
Everything around just sucking life.

But today, I saw a bit of red
A faint red from the corner of my eye
And only for a second.
But colour for the first time in an age.

Is the storm about to stop?
Am I being freed?
Will I be alive again?

I don’t know any of it.
Just that I saw a bit of red today.
Just that I saw a bit of hope today.

 

*Featured Image Courtesy – https://pixabay.com/en/candle-hope-red-power-flame-fire-2349571/

Dear privileged child

Cars whiz past,
You, in those cars
And many others.

They sit in some corner
Ragged, dirty
Ugly to your eyes
Only occasionally your eyes meet theirs
Feel sympathy do some
But contribute nothing.

You go to work, school or college
Same routes
And you find them in that same place every day.

You’ve read about the Sun, haven’t you dear privileged child
You do know that it is the greatest source of energy on this Earth
And you also know that it’s always there, in the same place
No matter how many of you die, are reborn and die again
The Sun will be there
Mighty, powerful.

These people on the street,
(Though they too will perish into the wilderness one day)
Are constants in the place they inhabit for ten, twenty, thirty years.

Why, then are they so powerless, so irrelevant?
Poverty, hunger, capitalism, classism could not defeat them
They stand here despite everything,
They surely are not weak.

Have you wondered, dear privileged, emotionally evolved child, why this life is so unfair?

Have you?

 

*Featured Image Courtesy – https://borgenproject.org/mexico-poverty-rate/

Solitude amongst the masses

Hordes of people
Bright and colourful
Kids, college
All smiles and energy
Selfies and streaks in the hair
Backpacks containing weed and books
Talking, smiling, living.

I am so scared
So scared
Of situations I once embraced
Envious of people like whom I once was
These people, around me.

A weird splattering of shivers overtake me as I just stand
In a corner,
With people everywhere
Yet all fucking alone.
I feel like running away from here
Faster than light, like I did last time
But I’ve promised myself that I’ll at least try once
To be normal again.

Fears like these are impossible to explain to anyone
How I feel I’ll faint if an acquaintance or a stranger says hi to me
How I pretend to talk on the phone so people don’t think I am a fucking loner
How I seem to make everything around me awkward
People, conversations, even the weather.

I breathe heavy
Some invisible force these people seem to hold over me dulls my senses
And with a wicked, vicious laugh eats me up.

I feel like crying so hard
But no one will listen.
I can’t take these smiles around me
They are death.
Symbols of an improbable, failed dream.

Hordes of people
Everyone with someone or the else to talk to, some dozens
Brightness, chatter, just college things.

Me,
All alone
The voice inside the only company
Evil smiles of evil people.
Sharp, sweat inducing shivers and heaves.
Tied to an imaginary leash
Unable to move forward
Or even go back.

Stuck,
Held down
Pinned by a giant monster I can’t see or hear or smell, just feel.

Every inch of me.

*Featured Image Courtesy – http://jpgmag.com/photos/2195863

A ray of light

Small moments of joy
Brief conversations
The mystic beauty of potentiality.

Could it be magic?
The force that changes life,
Makes it beautiful, worth living.

Yesterday,
I would have said no.

Today,
With a great sense of surety, a tinge of excitement in my heart,
A smile just on the way, a rare semblance of peace
I say yes.

I say yes.

 

*Featured Image Courtesy – https://pixabay.com/en/photos/hope/

DON’T WAIT

Wait
Something miraculous will happen tomorrow.
Our lives will change forever.
Mine and that of the voice inside.

(The next day)
Wait a bit more
Something miraculous will happen tomorrow
Our lives will change forever.

I’ve been waiting,
Patiently for decades now

I wondered initially what this miracle would be like
A ray of light visible only to me
A costume with a black cape
A trip to places unknown.

It withered away gradually, my sense of excitement
Gradually; painfully
And all that remained in my mind was that things would be better
I’d take anything, just not this
Just not this.

And now that has gone too.
I have been broken,
My walls penetrated
My put-on face, smudged
My blanket of protection, stripped
I have quit this race of hope.

The wait has outlasted, outlived me,
Defeated me.
Like it does, everyone.

I have not found peace,
I have not accepted, or even known myself.

DON’T. SEARCH.
DON’T. HOPE.
DON’T. WAIT.

Just try living until your breath leaves you.

 

*Featured Image Courtesy – https://in.pinterest.com/ylbt/black-white/?lp=true

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An unknown place we’re all searching for

Some things are colourful
And some things pale.

Some humans are colourful
And some humans pale.

But, the question is not whether you’re neon pink or transparent
The question is what lies in the middle
Is there, between the two extremes, an area of fusion and confusion?
No, not grey, because that too is a colour.
Something we all know about but can’t express.
An area that’ll give space to our secret truths
That we ourselves are scared of confronting.
An area where we won’t be governed by the codes of ethics and morality, not scared of being judged for others will have secrets too
An area which truly is colourless
Not transparent.
Maybe invisible,
Maybe a small little place in our own minds
Where we don’t have to adhere to this or that, pursue this or that,
Where we’re happy just the way we are.

Does that place exist?

For you it may.
For me it doesn’t.
Yet.

I’m searching. I’m hoping. I’m waiting.

 

*Featured Image Courtesy – https://blog.findmypast.com/how-to-search-for-your-ancestors-on-findmypast-1406089516.html

Whispers and Screams

Pink or Blue?
Blue, says the world in unison.
A few disagree
But their rebellious voices are drowned out by the cacophony of the majority
These rebellious voices had been screams, but are destined to be mere whispers.

Black or White?
White, says the world in unison.
A few disagree
But their rebellious voices are drowned by the cacophony of the majority
These rebellious voices had been screams, but are destined to be mere whispers.

Privilege is a big thing.
Very few possess it.
Those who do, mostly abuse it.
That is why blue dominates pink
And white, black.

Pink and black voices should never have been ones of rebellion.
That they are is the biggest pronouncement of the world there could have been.

I meet many people who think like me.
Pink or Blue, Black or White,
In the end they all are voices,
They all are colours.

I meet many people who think like this.

Maybe I meet very few people,
Or maybe those with power and position and influence are assholes.
But then it’s the people we interact with everyday that elect them
And I think, maybe I just don’t know how to read people.

And so the many above becomes just a few
But wherever they are, and however minuscule their voices seem to be.
One day, some day, they will drown the voices that rule us right now and admonish them to being insignificant murmurs.
One day, pink and blue and black and white shall lose their individual meanings and all go back to being colours

My voice is a whisper right now, but one day it will be a scream.

 

*Featured Image Courtesy – https://www.pinterest.com

I’m a virgin

I sit,
One leg on another, sometimes apart
I stand,
Still, sometimes I pace about randomly.

I walk
I run
I lie down
I do all of this
And I wonder,
Wonder a lot.
Think is the word,
Reverie is what others call it.

As long as I think,
And no one can truly know what I think,
I’m a mystery
An object looked at with fascination even when loathed.

I’m a virgin
And I can never be naked.

 

*Featured Image Courtesy – https://in.pinterest.com

Coloured Gallows

Lights, bright yellow
Walls, cream and blue
Furniture, beige and brown and black
Cushions, sea green
Table cloth, red
Files and documents, blue, some grey
TV, black and sliver
AC, pristine white

An entire fucking rainbow all around me
Their resplendent gallows
To my pallid soul.

 

*Featured Image Courtesy – https://in.pinterest.com