Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Oct 2018 · 512
Help Anxiety.
If it's all just the play of colours,
let me,
Be the artist of your life.
Handle me the pallet, and let me fill the grey depletion in your heart with all the merry hues.
Paint the years-long paleness on your cheeks with the rosiness of hope and love.
Shade in the long left bleak corners of your angstful eyes with stellar colours of nonchalance.
If it's the shape that matters,
Let me,
Collect the broken pieces of your dreams that fell past the grounds you've settled to, bits by bits, although unartistically, but aesthetically.
The twisted and tormented insight of yours dangling under the burden of responsibilities stretch into the light of mirth and gratification.
Lend me your hand for a while, and
Discover all the uncovered path.
Walk against the stormy wind with eyes wide open.
Breathe in the energy that the universe is radiating for you.
Walk past the spiny nightmares to get wind that how beautiful your reveries are!
Whilst you bother about the lost star's shine,
Let me explore the whole new multiverse in you. Let me, just let me help you.
Please don't copy or distribute my work without my permission.
She travelled,
Trudged the grasses that once were the reminder of the area she's confined in.
Walked through the bleak chambers of her heart that kept her vision captive.
Moved ahead, lancing the haziness caused by the droplets that once traced the extension of her cheeks every now and then.
Legged it, gasped the smoke of her half burnt desires that once was the sigh after her every failed story.
Broke loose from the moonlit vestiges that implored her to get along with the norms she's leaving behind.
And now, when she knows what it takes to reconcile the edge of her lips with her dimpled cheeks, you want her retreat?
Sorry, but she's miles ahead.
Firm and unbreakable.
-Aparajita Tripathi
Do not copy or distribute my work without my permission.
Aug 2018 · 590
All that I wanted was...
I never wanted to be a character of your novel but an inked odyssey of your words left unspoken.
I never wanted to be the star of your life but your inner star gazing novice.
I never wanted to be the light of your life but a glistering ray to hew the gloom you hid within your *****.
I never wanted to be a smell of a splendiferous bouquet of flowers but a soothing petrichor.
I never wanted to be the drizzle of ephermal joy but a downpour of eternal bliss.
I never believed in any space but being the aura of one another.
In a world so materialistic I believed in nothing but something very realistic for which, I afflict no more!
Aug 2018 · 253
Dear silence.
Dear silence,
Thanks,
For always accompanying me even when I'm lying half slept, or half dead on my bed.
For being a blabbermouth always,
You've a lot to say, and
I'm your addicted listener.
For getting deep into the bleakness of my heart,
And making room for yourself,
Amidst all the crowded voices and thoughts on my head.
And then making your way to my eyes, and get drowned in their haziness.
Helping me gulp down the screech and hide my face against the pillow
With millions of emotional turmoils and crisis,
In the minute sniffles of
Choices made and opportunities lost.
For being around me at my continuous gaze at the flickering light and sickly falling scurfs from my ceiling,
Due the damping weather outside and the one inside my heart.
And at the knock at my door, or heart;
Coming down to my lips, and curling them in the most pretentious ways in between the overstays of the conversation,
With the one before me
And the one inside me.
You've been a beautiful companion throughout,
And your unwillingness for me to requite you the same
Makes you the lover most sacrificing.
Your selfish lover,
Aparajita Tripathi.
#silence #silent #love #depression #darkness #help #frustration #life #problems
Aug 2018 · 544
Everyday's a fight.
I need no shoulders to lean my head on, but I won't mind your gentle tap assuring it all hunky-dory to be.
I need no feet to match my frequency, but I would love to run wildly with you, if you dare put your steps forth.
I need no hands to wipe my tears off, but I won't hesitate accepting the handkerchief you pass.
I can savour my favorite dish all alone, but the dessert on my platter won't taste sour if you take a bite from it.
It's basically,
I don't want to scream, yet don't want to be left unheard.
Solitude I can befriend as I recall no names.
I want to give in, yet I'm fighting strong.
It's basically,
A constant struggle between,
How the hell so strong am I!
And what this fragile soul longs for.
Jul 2018 · 398
If I could ever write...

Your snaring approach convinced my words to give us a story. After knowing you, words sank low to a morsel or two. And after this informal proximity, I wonder, as a lost agraphic, if I could write at all.
Jul 2018 · 545
Mother.
"Days without you are torturing, nights without you are grievous.
I look for the comfort that I used to find in your lap. Where will I get you mumma? Where?", a scream lashed in despair echoed.
"I'll be the gallop to **** the dormant twilight,
I'll be the golden rays to snog your sleepy eyes,
I'll be the stretch of vitality,
I'll be the aroma of your morning coffee,
I'll be the shower of sprightliness to drench you with new zeal,
I'll be the savour of your breakfast and joy of a full square meal,
I'll be your steps towards glory,
I'll be the sigh after your every failed story,
I'll be the hop of excitement,
Acquainting a flunk, I'll be the screech of your lament,
I'll be the bliss you find seeing the sun going down,
I'll be in the sloth dispelling plangent words of azan,
I'll be the spectator of your big bright smile,
I'll be the witness to the every tear you wipe,
Never in your life you're alone,
Be it your hearty gale or saddening mourn,
Walking by you like your shadow,
Even beyond the eternity I'll follow", whispered her mother. :')
-Aparajita Tripathi
Jul 2018 · 1.7k
Yes, I do converse.
Yes, I do converse with all the crawling wishes that keep slamming me for never letting them stand and chase the dreams.
Yes, I do converse with all the broken dreams that linger on their shape they thought my deeds would provide.
Yes, I do converse with all the uncovered routes my feet still long to kiss.
Yes, I do converse with all the tough decisions I escaped that considered me gritty enough to not give in.
Yes, I do converse with all the choices I avoided where my soul found solace in.
Yes, I do converse with all the smiles I faked that had the elements of happiness a morsel or two.
Yes, I do converse with all the let go's that I could have stopped, grabbed, hugged and preserved, but I did not.
Yes, I do converse, and it keeps me going and it keeps me growing.
  -Aparajita Tripathi
Jul 2018 · 2.4k
Take me there.
Take me to a place,
Where promises meet the efforts,
Where sorrow meets the words.
Where complaint meets the conscience.
Where adulthood meets the innocence.
Where sufferings rhyme,
Where, even the the broken soul doesn't whine.
Where celestials I find solace in,
Where stellar healing is the ointment to each suffering.
Where tears stream yet soul doesn't haze,
Where in an open field of optimism my soul does graze.
Where happiness needs no reasons,
Where her loving tippet warms you in all the seasons.
Where the best thing I could befriend is my solitude,
Where the song of merry has no interlude.
Where every expression and word indubitably seem real,
That's the heaven or hell where the soul longs to indwell.
Jul 2018 · 5.9k
She was beautiful.
While they noticed the stretch of kohl in her eyes,
I could see a pacific of emotions trapped.
While they admired her blushing cheeks,
I could read the paleness she painted red.
While they were going gaga over her smirk,
I could fathom the depth of pain that debarred a hearty gale.
While they were lured by the cascade of her hair when she unscrewed the bun,
I could feel the onus of the tantrums she wanted to turf out.
While they were hypnotized by her mesmeric curves,
I was stunned by the withstanding efficacy of such a fragile body.
While they adored her attire and scarves,
I could trace the bruises she carried with poise.
While they were hung up by the glory of her face,
I could do no help but ride out at the scars she concealed with sprightliness which was the most beautiful thing my eyes could ever have a view of and it left me dazed...
And my mouth wide opened.
-Aparajita Tripathi
Jul 2018 · 8.8k
Yes, I am a girl.
Yes, I'm a girl and I'm not trying to justify my body language nor am I positioning the rights of a feminist on the top, but
Yes, I was questioned always, even when I was right.
Subservience was legitimized as my trait ever since I felt this world.
Every time when I was buckled under by his lecherous eyes, I was asked to adjust my dupatta well.
Every action of mine substantiated the height to which I'll hold the name of my family.
I was asked to cross legs while sitting, speak amicably, yet not solitously.
Every time I'd to hide my period stain like a ****** blot.
I was asked to gallop my cramps because letting it out is a bitter sin.
Yes, I get my body scanned by their lewd gaze day in and out even when I put my baggiest of clothes on.
Yes, I'm a girl, and I have beautiful synonyms, call me maal, patola, bomb, *****, *** or a girl? May be, let yourself decide.
Yes, I'm questioned on the extension of the Roti's that I make and the smiles that I couldn't fake.
Yes, I'm a girl and I'll stand, and question your authority if it calls for, call me stubborn. Okay!
Remember, I'm a girl, and if you accuse me of being a feminist if I know, and can raise my tone up and against your authority, humanism needs to be checked then.
-APARAJITA TRIPATHI

— The End —