What I Wouldn’t Do For You

The aspects of a long day

It's been a while since

We hung out together

Just the two of us.....

You and me...!

.

We have been on a break

The reason I despair to know

.

But there is something that happened in this break

I had been torn

I had been naive

A lot came

And a lot went by

And a lot happened.

.

It's the things I'm ashamed of

It's something I don't wanna talk about

.

I wish you had been there

To hold me back

From going all the wrong ways.

.

I want you to be there

To tell you all the aspects of the long day

.

It all happens, but he doesnt know...

I see you everyday, when you come in the same train. Sit right opposite me everyday. And you dont even notice me. I work in your same building one floor down but never have you noticed me. I sip coffee everyday sitting far away noticing your charm and wondering will it ever happen. But not once have you known my existence.

I reached home late, and there you were making dinner for us. After I had freshened up we both sat down in the balcony table and had the wonderful dinner under the moon light. I was lost in your arms and spellbound by your gaze. Your one touch makes me go numb, your one kiss melted me completely.

I wake up to find out its all a dream. A dream I wait to see everynight. An universe opposite to reality I had made up.

I see you again in the train and in the coffee shop waiting to go and sleep so I can fall in your arms and feel your love in the parallel universe I have made for myself. The romance there never dilutes, never vanishes. I love you. And will always do...

what’s in a name

You call me by my name all the time

And it used to feel great to hear it from you

I loved the sound you used make

And how you use a lot of different tones

I get your mood by the way you call,

But Daddy

It has all changed nowadays

You used to do all these things

And made me feel I was your princess

But

Then I realized that

Whenever you call brother

Its always a different tone

Infact, you never call him by his name

But rather all different adjectives

Sometimes its ‘champ’ otherwise ‘buddy’

Yet other times you call him

‘your darling son’

And the only tone that you use the days

The way you call my name

These days brings horror in me

Don’t call me by my name Daddy

Coz’ it makes me scared

That you’ll scold me again

Don’t call me by my name Daddy

Coz’ it makes my entire body shiver

Don’t call me by my name

Don’t call me by my name Daddy….

The mornings have been lazy lately,

with disturbed patterns of sleep,

you wonder when you go to sleep and when you wake up.

.

But the mornings these days are also tremendously beautiful,

the sunlight hitting you just the right amount through the windows

the tree outside that’s blooming,

leaving just the right amount of flowers on the ground.

.

The birds chirruping outside breaking the silence,

the squirrels cry out of joy,

all of them coming out at the right time.

.

The evening strolls in the terrace,

with my coffee in hand,

the book I’m reading,

yet again the birds and  the wind that brings in peace.

.

And then today came the first of summer rains,

the birds all flying with a sudden alarm,

they welcome the rain even before we know of it,

the eagles flying above the clouds, welcoming the warmth.

.

The petrichor hitting me first even before the drops of rain,

I let them fall on my face,

the heat comes down

there is this sudden chillness in the atmosphere,

and then it rains heavily.......

.

I sit down enjoying the rainfall, 

finishing my book,

wanting to write about it all,

but it’s worth the wait.

I wanted to take it all in.

.

with rain came the wind,

the lighting and thunder,

the sun who went into hiding

comes back with company,

.

the colors of

violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, and red

fills the sky,

.

I continue sipping my coffee,

reading my book,

looking up constantly at the sky, the birds and the rainbow.

.

I go back to sleep that night,

with a huge smile, a content heart and a finished book.

Thinking of a beautiful day that unfolded itself

seeing all those that no one saw,

that no one noticed,

that beauty,

and that melancholy of the day having finished so fast

the melancholy with serenity

that no one saw

no one would ever see

the melancholy with serenity...

.

Like these tip of buildings we see

Lays the faces of people

Not just others but also yours and mine

Where all of our beauty is beneath the clouds

And they see from top

Flying so high

Never coming down

To know what we are

I wish you came down

And knew what I was

Right from the bottom

All the way up.....

Doors closed from behind that never tend to open..

The doors behind whom is the person with the keys

Those doors....

How I wish you had told me before that these doors would never open...

Rather you promised me keys to eternal you

Of all the fake promises and lost love....

I wish I had known you even better. Known you even far.

I wouldn't be standing here today not knowing which way to go. Whom to trust.

I wouldn't be here having lost all faith in life

And turned cynical towards all.

I wish I had known you before.

Before all of this could have happened..

- Razia

@argumentsfromwithin hope I did justice to your poem. And ya if anyone wants to take it further. Please do..

Open ended…

(Please finish my poem!)

There are days…

That turn into weeks…

These months that have become years…

How long have I been waiting for an answer…

A solution to the fears that keep me awake at night…

there’s an odd bit of advice you see that was offered to me…

A tid bit of knowledge used to express an emotion…

This feeling we’ve all been looking for…

An answer behind closed doors…

-c.S.

By: ArgumentsFromWithin

(Please write your own ending and share! I can’t wait to read them!)

The crying man in the train

I travel a lot, not because I love to, but because I have to. When I was young I used to travel from Bangalore (where I used to live at that time) to Palakkad (which is my native place). And the best of entertainment which I used to get were the rush in trains, the tea and samosa hawkers, the announcements, everything was just wonderful. And being young all I did during those journeys was sleep. (I am a person who can sleep anywhere, anytime).

After my fifth standard the train journeys all came to a halt as we settled in Kerala. And then after seven years or so, my journeys came back again. I went Mangalore to do my graduation and with that I started travelling a lot.

Sometimes I used to travel with my friends while otherwise alone. And during all these times my only company were my books. I always stay away from my co passengers. I don’t like talking to strangers for no reason at all. Most of the time, I travel by unreserved ladies’ compartments and hence neither is there any entertainment (As there are no boys) nor am I interested in the co passengers with whom I travel. But once I travelled by a general compartment and that is where I met the crying man.

That time I was travelling from Vellore to Palakkad and since there was no direct train I had to get down in Coimbatore and board a different train to Palakkad. I got down at Coimbatore and there was a connection train to Palakkad which left in just about five minutes.

My train was in platform no. 4 and my connection train was in platform no. 3 for which I had to go all the way down and climb another bridge and there was very little time left and so I had to literally run, still by the time I reached the other platform with my two heavy bags and my sling back the train had already started moving hence I had to board on to a general compartment.

And there I met the guy. I was sitting in a semi empty berth. A lady was sitting to my left, and on the berth opposite to mine also only a lady was sitting.

And after around 2 minutes or so a guy came and sat opposite to me. He was tall, dark, and was in almost his late 30s or his early 40s. A good looking guy for that matter. But what caught my eyes was not his charm but his moist eyes. Well the matter that he was crying was not strange as it is a natural human emotion. But what was strange was the fact that he was crying in public, now that is not common especially in a country like ours where from the beginning the boys are thought not to cry especially in public.

At first I just let it go because it’s a free world and anybody can cry anywhere, but he was just not stopping it. He went on and on, and he was wiping his tears with his sleeve and shirt and so out of courtesy I gave him my handkerchief. He accepted it and started wiping his tears and blowing his nose.

“Hey, are you all right?” I asked

“Actually…. no” was his reply

“I know I am a stranger but sometimes talking to a complete stranger helps the most"

“Maybe, it will…. But I … I don’t know you”

He was right why should he tell a stranger the reason for his sadness.

“Ya you’re right.” Was all I could say.

But after around five minutes he talked to me again

“I am sorry for being rude I know you were just trying to help”

“It’s ok”

My curiosity to know his problem was now at peek. But I dint want to intrude again. So I just kept quiet and waited for him to open up himself.

“Well my wife is returning today”

“Returning from..?”

Well asking that was a mistake because now he started crying again

“Why are you sad if she is returning, shouldn’t you be happy?”

“Well if she had left for her parent’s house then I should be happy but she had an extramarital affair with my colleague and now since he got bored with her she is returning”

“What??” I exclaimed

“I know it all sounds strange, but you won’t understand, I don’t even know why I am explaining my whole story to you, maybe because as you said, saying everything to a stranger may help or maybe even because there is no one to whom I could tell all this

I had a best friend in office, he was my only friend. And he used to come home a lot too because I used to insist, maybe that was the biggest mistake I ever did. He was a bachelor and he always wanted to have home food and all, so I thought maybe I could help.

His character was also not that good; he changed his girlfriends every now and then and engaged in a lot of one night stands. I dint judge him for what he did because it was his life and he could do whatever he wanted to do.

But I dint think that this character of his would ruin my family life. My wife is very attractive. And instantly my wife and my friend became good friends and I dint think there was any harm in it, I was not among those husbands who have problem with their wife having male friends.

And within no time my wife and my friend were having an affair, well they managed it well because I dint have even a slightest doubt about them.”

I had to ask, “How did you know then?”

“I came to know about it when my wife ran away with him. She dint even explain things to me she just sent me a text saying “I’m leaving” and just left”

I gazed in astonishment. “Well do you have kids?”

“Yes a girl studying in class II”

I dint say anything, as he was saying it so he can be relieved I dint want to make it awkward for him.

“Well it’s been two weeks now and my wife called me yesterday and said sorry. She is returning today, I am going to pick her up”.

I was amazed, I was out of words, a guy was going to pick his wife who left him for two weeks, god I have never seen a guy like this, I wanted to ask a lot of things, but again I was just a stranger...

Maybe he read my mind or something

“I know you would be wondering what a guy I am. Maybe she just felt it as the heat of the moment and now she regrets, or maybe worse he is not a commitment guy, I don’t know what happened and I don’t want to know either, I just love my wife and my kid and I want my kid to have both her mom and dad to be with her when she grows up.

By then his station came, he bid me farewell forever, thanked me for listening to him and went away. I don’t even know his name. And I won’t meet him for the rest of my life also, but he left me with a heavy heart. I was speechless. I have seen a lot of couples in my life, my parents, my uncles and aunts, and a lot others like that.

My own parents were divorced. They have two kids but they dint think of any such thing. In fact no man’s ego would allow him to do such a thing.

The crying stranger was one of world’s best fathers I have known.

Faith.

Why am I so attached to strangers and detached from people who are mine? A question that has been haunting me for a while now. I have opened up so much to a completely stranger giving him the key to all my secrets making myself vulnerable.

Yes, my social network friend. We became friends a little while ago and now I have become quite close to him. Inseprable.

But having told him all my secrets I feel vulnerable. I feel weak. I do not know how to overcome this fear.

Having been stabbed in the back by people I have trusted, now I feel telling unknown people is much more safer than telling the known one.

I hope you wont stab me like all the others did. You wont leave my hand when I hold on to with all the trust I have. The faith; if shattered again then I would never be able to gain it back nor will I trust anyone ever again be it known or unknown.

I'm literally shivering of the cold breeze here but it's also making me feel better for some reason from all the ache in my heart and the confusion in my head

The cozy space

My granny used to tell me this story all the time. When I was a kid and used to get upset, I would go hide in the cupboard where she kept all the blankets and cry. That seemed the coziest space of all. I was known to be the cry baby, otherwise nicknamed the sensitive one.

Growing up, every time I had a fight with my older brother I cried at night sleeping between my parents, without them having even the slightest idea of what I was doing. My pillows were heavy each morning and not a single soul knew.

Teenage years, filled with loneliness made me associate emotions with things. While that small piece of the broken cup, and the earring my best friend gave and I lost one. The school uniform, the English textbooks which had stories that made me love reading, everything seemed to be a part of something big.

Having had to live with other people in college, the shower became that cozy space, where I cried while the water ran through my face, while I looked radiant; no one knew what was happening.

Moving cities I continued carrying the same pillow everywhere, it seemed to have known all sides of me and all stories of mine. While the pillow turned heavy, it also seemed to be the only thing to hold on to

These days, sunsets are the cozy space, evenings filled with some music and leading to nights I can look forward to. The time with myself along with some tea I make, mostly disastrous. I seemed to have found my cozy space. The corners at buildings and the empty roads seem to have grown to be cozy spaces.

Image by: Razia @a-small-startup