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Surkhab Dec 2021
What is this between me and her?
Our moments hold love and hate
Why is she like this?
Fighting everyone, who hold flowers
on their tongues for me
They feel sad for her for being this way...
criticizing me for my ways
As they say, that I am no genius
And why can't she accept...
a life so normal for me?
I hold tears in my eyes
As her words hurt my soul...
But now, a part of me knows
those words coming from her...
hold a meaning lot deeper...
I see someone, there in her eyes...
Someone shouting behind those words...
"You are not normal...
There is a reason...I gave you this name..."
I have begin to understand the enormous love,
She holds behind those thorny words...
My past holds a thick account of good deeds...I guess
As out of all, the creator of stars gave her to me...
She, who has the courage to leave her own joys
to help the ones in sorrow...

Somedays, I don't like her ways...
But, at the end of the day...
She is the best part about me...
But, even at the end of my life...
She will be the best part of me.
Surkhab Dec 2021
The ones you love the most...
will hurt you the most...
A stranger holds no power...
to even make you rethink...
But...now I am tired...
tired of waiting...for this winter
inside me to end...
I don't want to get hurt anymore...
I will make it till the end all alone...
But...this pain...I want this to leave...
Expectations hurt the most...
And I know myself...
A loser who daydreams...
spending days writing useless poems...
People like me...have no value in the real world...
So...I live in a world of my own...
I am tired of putting on playlists...
of all those songs...
to fill this vacuum...
But...I can't understand if it's inside me
or this place?
Something...in my throat...chokes me
I feel like puking...to get rid of it...
A pain underneath my heart...
A lot of my verses hold it's account...
They ask me to write something new...
But...this pain never ends...
I ask them with tears in my eyes...
"What should I do?"
I have no answers...to any question...
I am a useless being in this world of
brilliancy
Oh...I just realised...
I am lonely again.
It's not always about those happy times but the sad ones to be celebrated to.
Sometimes...my poems are not useless...I don't know why I said that. The moments I feel worthless hold equal importance as the one I stand strong.
Surkhab Nov 2021
Some days I do wonder about love
A poison people drink happily
They say the dopamine and oxytocin flood the brain
And a person goes all weird…
Well, is that true?
I hate love…and those kids of my generation
Acting all in love
How are they mature enough to name it love?

But I have seen love…
from the balcony of my dark room
Between that man and lady...
living in their own rainbow world...
The old man, above 6ft…
loves a lady, below 5ft…
Sharing the same room and life from past 50 years...
You see...they are not a necessity but a habit...
The radio plays...while he reads the newspaper...
and she knits a sweater...
Not even a single word is said...
But the air is filled with their love for each other...
There is something about the old lady that makes old man fall for her more every day…
The king himself...treats her like a queen...
It's funny to see the laws of physics come true...
As they said...opposites attract...
If he is an ocean filled with composure...
then she is the tide...
If she is the sun...
then he is the warmth...
As they sit together in their dazzling love...
The flowers they planted in name of each other...
Bloom fresh to this day...
The restlessness in his walk...the sadness in his eyes
when she is not around...says it all...
It was a gloomy November, when she got sick...
Only for him to get sick too in the coming week...
It felt like a connection of souls...
A fire burns in his heart...with a promise on his lips...
never to leave her side...

I wonder...the love I hate...
Can it really be this pure?
Nothing to expect...but just give endlessly...
A love so deep...that other's existence becomes a norm...
In this world of 14 billion faces...
Will I love someone this way?
The way my grandpa loves my granny.
Surkhab Oct 2021
The memory was hung there...
caught in a frame...
But, I looked at that smile...
A big curve stretched across my lips...
And eyes were smaller than normal...
As if couldn't let even a drop of happiness to fall...
I looked at myself in the mirror...
Where is it now?
I can't find it...
It's not that I didn't look for it...
But...a dumb like me...lost it...
Now the curve is not that big...
And the eyes....they are big and brown...
nothing to hold inside...
They do ask me about where I lost it?
But how long could I stay there looking for it?
I know...I was not worth it...
It traumatises me...how we change
The way we shed our pure skins at wrong places...
And then even forget those places...losing our skins forever...
Sometimes its 3 in the morning...or 12 in the noon...
Something hits me up...to get that old self back.
We are like an empty canvas,
And as we grow...we get painted in the colors of this world...
The childhood has it's own colors...
But this world...is like that bully...who wants to destroy the masterpiece...

However, the misery lies here...
the colors of this world are so dark...that the true masterpiece is lost forever!
Surkhab Oct 2021
There's this secret box under my bed...
It's for you...yes...for you
When you enter my room...
Please don't draw the curtains
The place holds my darkness and secrets...
It doesn't need the touch of light...
But the flame of the candle will support you...
Take the box and open it
You will find some stuff holding memories
of us from centuries...
Ignore them for a while
Take a look at that bundle of old yellow pages...
These are the poems I couldn't dare to complete
Do me a favor...complete them for me...please
I left spaces for your part
Write about yourself...
Write about us...
The typewriter is still on the table...
These pages do hold my soul and tears...
Do treasure it...it's the last of us
As for the secret box, take it or burn it
When you leave my place...with the poems, with our moments breathing alive in them...
Head towards that park with pink bougainvilleas...
which must be brown now...
Sit on that wooden bench under the banyan tree
And read all those poems containing us...
You will find me alive in those verses...
Give those pages your soul and tears too...
At least we'll be together there
Do not forget taking the last stroll in that park
Because...I have left the town forever.
He got the letter...but she had already left the town...


Just an imagination
Surkhab Sep 2021
Some magic runs between the golden hours of 3 to 5...
Everything is calm...it feels divine
A time...I meet myself...
My place...hates the presence of light
But the awfully stubborn sunlight sneaks in secretly
through the thick curtains...
lighting up...parts of my dark room
And there I am laying on my bed...
I feel so complete, with my soul in high spirits...
Old songs playing on the radio...can be heard.

It's that serene part of the day...I live for
The whole house is in deep slumber...
As I dance through the hallways...celebrating my afternoons
The seasons change...but the loyalty of these afternoons surprise me...
constant...from the day we met .

The hot summer afternoons...drown me in siestas
jumping like a dolphin from one dream to another.
There is something about the stormy rainy afternoons that makes me feel over whelmed...
bathing me in memories of someone I've never met.
The autumn afternoons see me fickle
As I lose myself completely...for a new change.
The darkness of my soul rises during the winter afternoons...
As I dance through them with my demons.
Vintage melodies fill the fragrant air of spring afternoons
as my camera captures Nadar's smile under the big white clouds.

The silence of these afternoons...rests like roses in my soul...
Only for them to wither...in the harsh evenings.
There is something about this time of the day...I can't deny.
Surkhab Sep 2021
I remember...falling from the giant sequoia...
I was falling from a height...I knew I couldn't survive...
My heart sank...not even a single beat to be felt
But...why didn't it feel like the apathetic ground?
How could I not die in my own blood?
How could the heart still beat?
It felt like falling on a cloud...or feathers...
It felt like...drinking a lukewarm tea...
full of love and worries...just for me...
I opened my eyes...only to find...it was them...
They picked me up with their hands...
placed me on the ground delicately...as if I was something precious...
Their faces were full of fear...
as if not even a scar on me...was bearable to them...
What was that moment?
May be a moment full of my worth...
"I didn't expect you to come..."I laughed
And they looked at me in disbelief...
"Where were we supposed to be?"
Laughter echoed in that sequoia forest...
As we returned back home...
I returned...with a spirit to reach new heights...
but this time...without a fear of falling down.
It's good to have someone...
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