priyadarshini-mukherjee

He used to be a healer A man who would give you a boy-ish hug And let you believe in fairies and honesty He used to be a charmer I knew him I knew him not The two of them were in love Those two who aren’t even looking at each other across the floor But are aware of what they are saying To which hand their hand finds a new warmth I knew them I knew them not They used to be my family A group of people who were Far more dear than my own folks We would laugh and cry together Sharing our worries and ambitions And dreams which would never come true So many nights Spent under these very stars Who bear witness To everyone I have met and every emotion I have felt They know my mistake They know that I believed everything was real And permanent In a life as temporary as mine They knew I believed that when these people met me They opened their masks and became themselves They knew I was fooling myself With a truth So convincing and so delusional That Even I bought it Throughout the time Inch by inch Through and through

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Nov 2, 2014

Nov 2, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC

Some people I know not anymore

He used to be a healer A man who would give you a boy-ish hug And let you believe in fairies and honesty He used to be a charmer I knew him I knew him not The two of them were in love Those two who aren’t even looking at each other across the floor But are aware of what they are saying To which hand their hand finds a new warmth I knew them I knew them not They used to be my family A group of people who were Far more dear than my own folks We would laugh and cry together Sharing our worries and ambitions And dreams which would never come true So many nights Spent under these very stars Who bear witness To everyone I have met and every emotion I have felt They know my mistake They know that I believed everything was real And permanent In a life as temporary as mine They knew I believed that when these people met me They opened their masks and became themselves They knew I was fooling myself With a truth So convincing and so delusional That Even I bought it Throughout the time Inch by inch Through and through

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She loves her. She loved her with little rays of sunshine and Pitter patter tears. Her love was like dew drops on grass blades on a misty morning. Like a butterfly loitering around a little girl. Like money on a starved beggars hand. It was a humane love built with illogical trust and belief. It was made of burnt bricks of built up grief and an exhaustion which comes from an eternal search for a handful of love. Her love was the size of her soul. It was next to everything she would own even after death. ~~~~~~~ Sunshine

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Sep 25, 2014

Sep 25, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC

Her love

She loves her. She loved her with little rays of sunshine and Pitter patter tears. Her love was like dew drops on grass blades on a misty morning. Like a butterfly loitering around a little girl. Like money on a starved beggars hand. It was a humane love built with illogical trust and belief. It was made of burnt bricks of built up grief and an exhaustion which comes from an eternal search for a handful of love. Her love was the size of her soul. It was next to everything she would own even after death. ~~~~~~~ Sunshine

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I write a word I cut a slit I send the message another slit I cry for you One more slit I die inside I bleed a bit This poem I write Is in memory of those of times when Words would f l o w from me to - You- and I hope you know That with every word every of blood drop I miss you and I miss you and I miss you even more

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Aug 19, 2014

Aug 19, 2014 at 7:26 AM UTC

Pain

I write a word I cut a slit I send the message another slit I cry for you One more slit I die inside I bleed a bit This poem I write Is in memory of those of times when Words would f l o w from me to - You- and I hope you know That with every word every of blood drop I miss you and I miss you and I miss you even more

26

You walked into my life And strode over my feelings Crushing My heart In every step Throughout the path You traversed My blood marked your way When you ran back To the entrance Fearing I would value you A little too much Scared that you would fall in love A little too much But Alas ain’t I the little girl? Who had once sent a prayer up above “Watch over him, Lord!” And you struck me down with your words And your actions so well constructed And I? Being the little girl as always I didn’t even try To chain you down with the fire of my love What if it burned you down? What then would be the remedy? I didn’t even try To drag you back With snarles of seduction Or little sweet nothings I didn’t even try To smoke your cigarette And kiss your lips To match your taste I just watched you Walking across A patch of grassland When you mistook my tears To be Mere dew drops Dear darling friend of mine Some day you will find A star shining bright up in the sky Beckoning you to love Not to criticize Dear darling love of mine And that day you will realize That the sparks of success raining down on you Have already been paid for With the life of a little girl Who Loved you a little too much Who Cared about you a little too much Who Let herself fall down thirty storeys In loving memory

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Aug 17, 2014

Aug 17, 2014 at 3:00 AM UTC

Tu Me Manques

You walked into my life And strode over my feelings Crushing My heart In every step Throughout the path You traversed My blood marked your way When you ran back To the entrance Fearing I would value you A little too much Scared that you would fall in love A little too much But Alas ain’t I the little girl? Who had once sent a prayer up above “Watch over him, Lord!” And you struck me down with your words And your actions so well constructed And I? Being the little girl as always I didn’t even try To chain you down with the fire of my love What if it burned you down? What then would be the remedy? I didn’t even try To drag you back With snarles of seduction Or little sweet nothings I didn’t even try To smoke your cigarette And kiss your lips To match your taste I just watched you Walking across A patch of grassland When you mistook my tears To be Mere dew drops Dear darling friend of mine Some day you will find A star shining bright up in the sky Beckoning you to love Not to criticize Dear darling love of mine And that day you will realize That the sparks of success raining down on you Have already been paid for With the life of a little girl Who Loved you a little too much Who Cared about you a little too much Who Let herself fall down thirty storeys In loving memory

56

Staring at you from the corner of my eye There are hundreds seated here Still my vision strays across the line These feelings can't be right It's like the moon falling in love with the sun though they are a team, they can never be one Love can't be my might These feelings can't be right Why are you so scared to look me in the eye? I hate it when she looks at you with expectancy in her eyes I feel like destroying the worlds for you These feelings can't be right I know that I'm alone in this street Every part of myself I have left behind Because I know that mystery will always love darkness Though sunshine will be right by her side My wishes just seem so "Unright" I face the truth again - These feelings can't be right Now-a-days I stay away from you When you don't look at me, that is when I look at you When you don't hear me, I have said a thousand times ' I love you ' These feelings can't be right Every morning when I open my eyes And Sunshine strikes this porcelain skin from the skies A carnage of hope is all I visualize I roll down my sleeves to cover the scars My reflection whispers to me 'The mirror never lies' These feelings aren't right I wish I'd be able to stand in front of you And express what I exactly feel about you But I cannot set forth in that venture " The way is suspicious, the result uncertain, perhaps destructive." And if you ever know about this side of me The only thing that will come out of you will be " These feelings can't be right " Beyond the precincts of his eyes Everything seems to be delusional his eyes have the power my foes could **** for - to rip my soul apart every minute Every second of my life And I'm reminded again- These feelings can't be right But now that I've realized These feelings can't be right I am sure That today is the first day of the rest of my life ...

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Aug 16, 2014

Aug 16, 2014 at 1:47 AM UTC

Unfair - Ungood - Unright

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It was a gloomy morning with mild sunlight I opened the letter box T’was a wedding card A bright white with an eternity symbol in the corner I knew the handwriting The very pull at the end of every word Written in well learnt cursive **** Even their names seemed to be in sync The made for each other kind It was, as if, Those two names were meant to be written side by side With just one word in the middle ‘weds’ ******* I went inside my room and shut the door Walked to my table Switched on my newly fixed table light And sat with a blank sheet of paper Wishing my life could be As new, fresh and uncontaminated as that A4 Unlike the crumpled brown paper Which had made its way to the bin ******* After sitting with the letter for an hour I asked myself – What do I write to him? Should I ask him the cause of this invitation? Is it a bitter revenge? Or a way to reconcile a relationship which will Never be the same Trying to tamper with our situation Was like pricking on a wound which was almost healed Which would heal Stop hurting me But the scar would remain As a reminder Of something which taught me How pain becomes pleasure **** Instead, I opened my drawer And took out an old letter Which held emotions of a sixteen year old lover, Who didn’t care about my beauty or past? Who was brave enough to write, In that same cursive “I love you” With that same personal pull at the end I poured a bit of my blood Mixed with tears into that pouch of memories And sealed it And sent it That was enough hate from a lover On his wedding day Enough

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Aug 13, 2014

Aug 13, 2014 at 8:51 AM UTC

A Hate Letter

It was a gloomy morning with mild sunlight I opened the letter box T’was a wedding card A bright white with an eternity symbol in the corner I knew the handwriting The very pull at the end of every word Written in well learnt cursive **** Even their names seemed to be in sync The made for each other kind It was, as if, Those two names were meant to be written side by side With just one word in the middle ‘weds’ ******* I went inside my room and shut the door Walked to my table Switched on my newly fixed table light And sat with a blank sheet of paper Wishing my life could be As new, fresh and uncontaminated as that A4 Unlike the crumpled brown paper Which had made its way to the bin ******* After sitting with the letter for an hour I asked myself – What do I write to him? Should I ask him the cause of this invitation? Is it a bitter revenge? Or a way to reconcile a relationship which will Never be the same Trying to tamper with our situation Was like pricking on a wound which was almost healed Which would heal Stop hurting me But the scar would remain As a reminder Of something which taught me How pain becomes pleasure **** Instead, I opened my drawer And took out an old letter Which held emotions of a sixteen year old lover, Who didn’t care about my beauty or past? Who was brave enough to write, In that same cursive “I love you” With that same personal pull at the end I poured a bit of my blood Mixed with tears into that pouch of memories And sealed it And sent it That was enough hate from a lover On his wedding day Enough

56

We were, A treat to the eyes A myth to their lies The silver lining of innocence In the end of a viscious tie We were as painfully beautiful As the sparks that fly out of two frictional objects Wearing and tearing the edges apart And yet, the little fireworks show attract audience People really do love to observe destruction First slowly yet steadily and then, All at once

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Aug 5, 2014

Aug 5, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC

Frictional sparks

We were, A treat to the eyes A myth to their lies The silver lining of innocence In the end of a viscious tie We were as painfully beautiful As the sparks that fly out of two frictional objects Wearing and tearing the edges apart And yet, the little fireworks show attract audience People really do love to observe destruction First slowly yet steadily and then, All at once

12

There's plenty of sunlight here With a tinge of love in every object That you've touched Welcome to my Utopia Lace curtains, open windows, A steaming cup of coffee in a gloomy afternoon, Another cup awaits your attention ... Welcome to my little world of expectations Dressed up for an occasion I'm standing in front of the mirror My reflection awaits your complements Welcome to my lonely world of longings Tired eyes with smudged makeup They need to know that they look no less beautiful I turn to my other side A lone tear trickles down my eye Welcome to my world of wishful thinking A double bed with two pillows A single occupant Awaiting the other one Welcome to my world of hard realities A broken frame with a torn picture My hand runs down the emptiness of the captured moment Living in the past every second Welcome to my daily life Sold out by my weary past and exhausted with my present I open my cupboard and take out my old diary I write another piece for you Wishing that someday you realise the reasons behind them, Welcome to a world where you belong !

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Jul 31, 2014

Jul 31, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC

SHADOW TALES

There's plenty of sunlight here With a tinge of love in every object That you've touched Welcome to my Utopia Lace curtains, open windows, A steaming cup of coffee in a gloomy afternoon, Another cup awaits your attention ... Welcome to my little world of expectations Dressed up for an occasion I'm standing in front of the mirror My reflection awaits your complements Welcome to my lonely world of longings Tired eyes with smudged makeup They need to know that they look no less beautiful I turn to my other side A lone tear trickles down my eye Welcome to my world of wishful thinking A double bed with two pillows A single occupant Awaiting the other one Welcome to my world of hard realities A broken frame with a torn picture My hand runs down the emptiness of the captured moment Living in the past every second Welcome to my daily life Sold out by my weary past and exhausted with my present I open my cupboard and take out my old diary I write another piece for you Wishing that someday you realise the reasons behind them, Welcome to a world where you belong !

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