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Ashmita Jan 2013
Laughter behind the tears,
Tears behind the memories,
And memories are all that's left.
Of heartstrings torn apart,
Of whispered intentions,
Of cherished nightmares,
And words gone unheard.
You have become a wall.
A cold, hard entity,
Its existence only appreciated
Because someone needs it,
It’s being there,
It being a part of that somebody.
One sided conversations,
Endless longing,
And pain,
An overdose of pain.
But the memories are never lost,
Never unwanted,
Cherished, every moment of it,
Lived in rewind,
Over and over again.
Moments which leave you,
Breathless with pain,
Yet laughing at what once,
Happened, oh so long ago.
An emotion which leaves your mind,
In a chaotic disposition,
On what to do, what to feel.
Weren’t you just angry at that?
How is the exact same thing leave you
Smiling, perhaps even laughing,
That too behind drowning eyes,
A heart wrapped in pain,
Held at a death lock,
Draining the life out of you,
Leaving insanity to prevail.
His eyes watch your every move,
Stalk every footfall,
Register every flutter of the eyelashes,
Every smile, every tear.
His touches, burning your skin,
He watches you while you sleep.
He is there, nowhere.
Mind games you cannot defeat,
Troubling your soul,
Making you remember,
Memories old with use,
Played on repeat,
So often that,
The images become your reality,
While reality becomes a denial.
And finally you find yourself,
Slow dancing in a room alone,
Never really being alone.
Long nights spent sitting
At corners of the bed,
Replaying every moment,
Hoping that somehow,
You could reach into the past,
Grab him, take him in your arms,
And pull him into the present with you,
Swearing, never to let go,
Again, that is.
Yes, you hope,
For hope is all the lost ones have,
Hope to find things lost,
Hope to meet,
Hope to talk and not just speak,
For this world is a small place,
And our lives are too long,
Our wishes too meaningful,
Longing too true,
And love, pure.
And what a beautiful mess this is.


Inspired by Jason Marz's song "a beautiful mess" :)
Ashmita Jan 2013
My heart’s taken,
My soul united to yours,
Hands entangled,
Eyes are lock,
Forever is the plan right?
What if we go wrong?
We all make mistakes, don’t we?
It’ll begin with a silent disliking,
Go on to a word of intelligence,
Will we hear each other out?
Or will the powers of ignorance take us over,
The claws of ego persuade,
And the belief that we have changed,
Keep us apart?
Can the sea of circumstances,
Desert of misfortune,
And the woods of utter bad luck,
Keep us from uniting,
The one soul which persists,
Among us both?
Time’s trials are not,
To be ignored and fought,
As for us?
Let’s see what we must,
But I’ll say this,
Won’t let the opportunity be missed,
No measure of time with you,
Will be enough,
So let’s start with forever?
Ashmita May 2013
Hid away, somewhere, packed up with careless love,
We all have them, somewhere.
Sometimes filled with regret, sometimes pain and misunderstanding
We peek and nudge at fragments of our distorted lives;
Reach for what was, for what it was worth.
The unusually, unthinkably happy faces
The familiar strangers, the awkward closure,
The sudden choke of realization,
Eyes flood with recollection.
It all comes back,
As it had never left.
A sudden gush of air draws to conclude,
I was not alone,
As I watched us burn
Slowly,
The shadows dance on the walls
Off the fire ignited.
Slowly,
We turn to gray.
Slowly,
We die.
Slowly,
Inevitably,
We burn.
Ashmita Feb 2013
Do you dare?
For I see you have stopped to stare.
Do you dare, for one screams in protest,
Mind you, you are no less,
A culprit I must say.
For can you not see a soul in dismay?
Eyes, tearful, look upon you for desperate help,
Does your soul not melt?
To see innocence being shattered,
Her soul is lost; she may die,
Where does your humanity lie?
Hearts disfigured, can she any longer feel?
Numbness around, she rewinds the reel,
Of events which has scared
Her existence reasonably left to discard.
For you didn’t dare,
You only stopped to stare.
Ashmita Mar 2013
Your frantic search will end in peace,
That is, if you search at all.
Blinded by the definition of what you’re looking for,
You drift, constantly, away.
The mind wonders from star to star,
If each star is a wish waiting to be wished upon,
Why do we not get what we want?
The moon lies dismantled,
Behind the curtains of floating clouds,
Aimless, towards infinity.
Its scars help us relate,
To sunken, half smiling faces,
Which define who we really are behind,
Eyes which penetrate the soul,
And with each story unraveled,
We find ourselves, having the same dark side.
With each time our hearts are lost and found,
We fear, fear ourselves of the mistake
Which an individual is bound to make,
That is, of course, expectation.
I have faith in you,
For I expect you to be there,
And with those wise words our miseries begin.
We leave things unsaid,
Switch off the lights and pack up our memories.
In fear of empting the half filled cup,
You breathe deeper instead,
Instead of saying a word,
You stand alone dramatically,
Under dismayed skies,
Pouring its pity on you,
Trying to wash it all away.
You follow the lines on your tear stained face,
They race each other,
They make you shiver,
Remembrance is painful yet a means of survival.
For even though they are packed away,
They persist.
Dizzy thoughts circle your mind,
Darkness hovers as you fear.
Fear, for you have fallen again.
And you are free falling, just falling.

You fight alone,
With skinned hearts, you bleed,
And it won’t be long
Before you find yourself
Drowning, deeper within you,
Fearing you aren’t who you thought you were.
A constant, crystal clear river of questions,
Run through your veins,
For you grew up way too fast,
Belief is now a chore,
Suffering a ritual,
And pain?
Pain is just what you are left behind with.
The faint morning light dawns upon you,
You wake with fear in your heart,
You’re so human and flawed.
So now you conclude,
That your existence is filled with hope,
You expect, hence fear arises again,
From the ashes, each emotion awakens,
The ones that once killed you,
For you had died, over and over again,
The same ones brings you back,
Only to make you realize,
That you always knew what was at stake,
And so, you knew,
That fear was your only truth.
Ashmita Jan 2013
My mind takes me back again,
To the glorious days when I couldn’t refrain,
My heart to freefall,
Waiting for your call,
When evenings, particularly seven to ten,
Was so exhaustingly spent,
Laughing, hiding, and cracking jokes having no head or tail,
Oh, why did time sail?
You and me, we were inseparable,
The moments, cherished, so memorable.
But do you remember them now?
For much time has passed,
Since you saw my last smile, and etched a frown,
For now, it has turned upside down.
Chocolate ***** and pastries,
Oh remember the time under the trees?
Mindless chatter, my mum used to say,
Meant the world as we both lay,
Side by side under the starry night,
Planning how our dreams are going to take flight.
And we will be off, together,
We had planned,
Leaving not a corner of the world undiscovered,
Ocean or land.
A big house by the beach, you did say,
We’d sit out together, night or day.
All the planning went to waste?
I think not, for I still hope,
That even if it was ruined in our haste,
A day will come when we will elope!
What a joke that used to be,
The honest intentions behind it, you didn’t see.
Now, the night is long, and it keeps getting longer,
For without you, I’m anything but stronger,
Tears overflow and laughter lost,
Don’t you see what you cost?
Come back, I whisper in my dreams,
You will never know what you mean,
I’m drowning, I scream for you,
The silence, your absence,
Oh, the ghosts of you are not few.
Your heartbreaking smiles,
Your soul touching gaze,
I can’t help but ask, where they all lies?
They all say, it’s just a phase.
What do they know?
When time makes it anything but better,
They judge the scars I show,
Can I help but shutter?
As many times as I close my eyes,
Do I think of you a day,
Forever? They were all lies.
Time flew didn’t it? When we were together I mean,
It stopped the day you left, and you were again, never to be seen,
Oh I remember that day,
Like it was yesterday,
Two years to be precise,
When you were not so nice.
An entire day in bed,
Hollow was my heart, blank was my head.
But life went on right?
The broken smile plastered on my face, I live,
Only to take it off at night,
Yes, you have made me negative.
I am tired of this constant pain,
Am i anymore sane?
And with nothing less than quenched fists,
I declare, you are greatly missed.
Ashmita Jan 2013
Hands entangled, eyes locked,
Alone amidst the sheets, we lay.
The world fell silent to us,
This was our moment.
Hardly audible, you whispered,
I love you, kissed my forehead,
And that was that.
Your eyes looked into my soul,
Searched an answer which never,
Never existed. Well,
At least the one you were looking for.
With a smile, I pulled you close to hide,
Hide my shame in you,
Hide from your expecting eyes,
For I couldn’t look at you,
But you were still waiting,
And you sill are, aren’t you?
You know don’t you? That,
Each laugh, each touch,
Each kiss and each look,
Is nothing but a cold lie?
I make you believe,
I feed you,
And with each lie,
You die slowly, harshly,
For with each lie,
You only fall for me,
Harder each time.
And so you freefall into,
The depths of pain,
Knowing that when you text,
I really hope it’s him.
Knowing that I compare,
Knowing that I remember the past,
Better than the present.
That I live more happily in my fantasy,
Than I do in reality.
That a ghost of a person saves my soul,
While you only make me feel guilty,
Killing me each time I lie
“I love you.”
Yes I’m unfaithful,
Yes my heart belongs to
A nonexistent wall,
"But I’m not going anywhere remember?"
I said, I said,
'I love you, don’t I?'
Ashmita May 2013
In the hustle and bustle of a metropolitan city, I searched you down. Stalked, hunted and fished you out. Out of the 7 billion people, I found you, and that was all which mattered. You. Your hair still soft and ruffled with care, you lips still pink without usage, or so I hoped, your eyes, sparkling as always behind your thin framed silver glasses. You, with your bold look, walking across the streets like you own them. You, with you heavy and slow steps walking to your destination with a purpose to conquer. You.
And in that unknown city, so far away from the root of our existence, with mindless honks of drivers and a play of lights everywhere, I found somebody that I used to know. A face not forgotten, yet changed, eyes which haunted reappeared and a voice which lingered rung in my ears. I found you.
I would purposely bump into you, pretending to be in a hurry, pretending to not recognize the only face embedded in my soul, drop my valuables, say something like my identification card, give you a quick smile and a sorry and run off and disappear into the wave of the crowd.
You would just stare at the card. Be reminded of a life so distant, possibly a life forgotten, probably forcefully. Be reminded of how a girl, crazy and wild, young in her years, had come and gone from your life. Be reminded of the question you always used to ask yourself "what happened?"
I would hide to see your face grow white. You had just seen a ghost. A ghost of your past, who you had forcefully left behind. Now, after decades of separation, years spent not even giving it a second thought, years spent away, you were reminded again. The fire was lit again. The fire which made you pick up the card, stare at the number and automatically dial it up. I would say "hello", at which you would cut the call still unsure of what you would say. Scanning, devising a plan, you would call again, only this time you would talk.
"Hello", I would say confused.
"I found your wallet miss, remember you bumped into me earlier?"
"oh yes thank god for you sir. Tell me where you are and I shall come and pick it up."
and with that you would let yourself go.
after all, a "hi" is all we need to melt, to fall, to die, all over again right?
and with that I woke up to the alarm screaming in my ears to remind me that reality still persisted, and that it would take more than a dream to get you back.
Yeah, another one. Hope you like this though.
Ashmita Jan 2013
Chain of events,
Unraveled and over thought of,
Waiting for it to happen, aren’t you?
Judgment day? Dooms day?
Name it what you want.
It’s coming, and it will come.
Plan out your ways,
Plan those exact words you are to say,
But know that your efforts,
Will go to nothing but vain,
For time and mind will stop,
Walls will corner you,
Heart will burst,
For tears will flow,
And the saddest part is that you will know.
Processed every possibility,
Rehearsed every lie,
Body language memorized,
Yes, you’re ready you think.
But you’ll know when it comes,
That you never knew what you were in for.
Ashmita Jan 2013
A blur of green dancers,
Grouped, huddled together,
Movements, aimless as can be.
A slash of black, flies across the clouded background,
Descending, gracefully and effortlessly.
In flight, it ***** it’s means of freedom.
The brutes of buildings stand ugly,
As the horizon remain fenced.
Twisting and winding are the dull pathways,
Paved, covering the misery of life,
On which various realms of existence walk,
Some covered in shredded rags, barefoot and starving,
Some on wheels reclined in leather seats.
Bridges hang overhead,
Giant entities hovering,
Connecting people as well as destroying lives.
Yet life prevails as wonderers take use,
Of a corner enough only to fit half their soulless bodies,
And the constant four legged companion watches on,
By his side, always by his side.
For in the corners of hell, we find a savior,
A miracle is always to be born,
And an angel is always to be found,
Amongst the crowd of evil.
Ashmita Jan 2013
A friendly smile, and that’s all that is needed,
For that ray of hope has penetrated,
Into the depths of my despair,
You had come to repair,
Every broken, battered part of me,
You became my wings and set me free.
I’m reaching out to let you know,
That when you admire that so called glow,
Which according to you,
You’ve seen so in few,
In my eyes, the glow that you see,
It’s because of you and me.
“Follow me”, is what you say,
And I will, let the world speak what they may,
I’ll follow you into the depths of the everlasting flames,
I’ll play life as a game,
For as long as I have you,
What do I have to lose?
And when my heart and soul is weary,
Eyes are wide and drooped and dreary,
Your arms are what I seek as heaven,
You are, and forever will be my salvation.
In your arms, take me back to the stars,
For few are not the scars.
Haunt me, my days, my existence,
Haunt me for I need the acceptance,
Of being worth a second look.
As of this hour, in your arms again you took,
The last hour of night, I rest,
In your unfailing love, I forever nest.
For happiness cannot be far behind,
With your grateful heart and peaceful mind.


Inspired mildly from the Bible, "Matthew".
Ashmita Jan 2013
Mistake not my smile for joy,
A temporary lapse of nerves to be more precise,
For the cold, dark cloud of memories, long lived,
Lingers till time is run out of its misery,
And as death, a friend, with its arms so charming,
Comes to get you, to save you, to free you,
You welcome him as your Savior.
Mistake me not to have forgotten,
To have ignored the feelings, that till today,
Only grow stronger in your absence,
To drown me in tears of regret, of blaming myself,
Oh, where did I go wrong?
“Enjoy life” was your last statement,
Is it even possible to be taken under consideration?
When my heart is with you, miles away, a place unknown?
We are but old souls,
Flying about, drifting through the wind,
Wanting to start again,
Waiting, for that one thing, lost.
And as we wait, we watch,
How they smile, how they laugh,
How they’ve ‘moved on’,
How they enjoy life,
And as we witness these angels shine their smile,
The life out of us is drained,
****** out by a whirlpool of hollowness,
A bottomless misery prevails upon us,
And we are left to toss and turn,
On lonely nights by ourselves,
In the parade of memories,
Thoughts of yesterday, lived all over again,
Questions of ‘what if’s and ‘why’s,
Orbit our minds,
Hearts are left blank, often forgetting its rhythm.
Lifeless, we live on,
Daydreaming, our only therapy,
Smiling, our means of denial,
Crying, our source of drainage,
Remembering, our dose of torture.
Mistake not my young years to be just a number,
For I have died, with every blink, I have died,
Without you.
But my dear, I do look forward,
To a day when our souls will meet again,
In some distant unknown land,
Eyes weary with experience and tears,
Faces tired of pretentious smiles and laughter,
Hearts, aching and bleeding,
Minds exhausted of thinking and wondering.
For hope is all I’ve got, the only light to show the way,
To a time when there will come a day,
When we’ve left this life for the ones to come,
A day when our old souls are set free,
A time for the old you and me.
Ashmita May 2013
The last few passengers hopped on catching their breaths with a huff and a puff and taking the remaining seats where they could, while handling their bags in one hand and their mufflers and hats with the other. It was just an ordinary day for them. A day when work and reaching their office on time was the only thing they could think about. A day when half their time on the launch was spent worrying if the Tiffin box packed so lovingly by their wives toppled over to create a mess. A day when they couldn't stop and stare. A day when materialism came before appreciating nature’s beauty.
Kolkata woke up one fine chilly morning to a sky set ablaze. There was always something about Kolkata and its lights that intrigued me. The perfection with which every corner was lit just as much as it should be, the hidden eye candy which could only be seen if you look into your soul to appreciate. Worshipers from all over flocked to the ghats to offer their prayers. And with the mindless honking of the city behind them and the open river in front, they dipped themselves in continuously to be forgiven of their sins. As they lifted their folded hands above their heads to pray and dipped themselves, they made the water all around them make huge ripples which were lost in the vastness of the mighty river. And with that, they were forgiven of their wrong doings, or at least that’s what they believed.
The engines roared to life as one of the crew, miserably opened the ropes and threw them on board after ringing a bell. I stood in one corner of the launch eyeing Kolkata, taking every bit of it in - its morning awakening, its old red bricked buildings, or at least the ones which still stood straight, its ghats green with moss and over crowded with devotees, its icy cold winter morning, and the current of the river beneath the launch floor. Kolkata had woken up to one of the coldest days in recent history. 9 degrees and the wind was up. On the Ganga it felt as if I had come away to some faraway land, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, to find peace.  Silence surrounded me and the only sound faintly audible was the low whistle of the breeze brushing past my cheeks kissing them which felt like tiny needles poking me all at once.
The water looked like liquid glass, floating away to infinity and beyond, as far as my eyes took my vision. As the launch turned to face its destination the Howrah Bridge came into view. Standing tall with its two gigantic pillars the sun peeped from between the cables to shine on the water creating a river of gold while the sun’s reflection seemed a ball of fire just within our reach.  The bridge cast huge shadows causing a sudden darkness to arise in the water which otherwise seemed ablaze.  

Across the river the world waiting for me felt distant. Was civilization actually that beautiful? Or did nature just wrap its covers around to hide the flaws of mankind, his ruthlessness, his ignorance towards other beings and its lack of humanity? The dashes of green popped out of the corners of towering buildings, as sun cast its golden rays on them creating shadows on the opposite side.
The small boats sailed on as the launch took me from bank to bank. The rowers sat at the back on the edge with their rows half immersed in the water. And as the currents made them flow by, the ripples came and hit our launch and travelled back into the vastness and disappeared. They sailed through the disturbed water, and its shadows sailed alongside. The rivers serenity was contrasted with the blobs of **** floating by, entangled with driftwood and mixed with shiny cloths, probably the leftovers of the previous durga puja celebrations.
The sky was a game of colors by now. The sun, still a ball of fire, was slowly creeping upwards, the light grey clouds just behind it shot rays of gold down through the gaps they found on the world below, the sky otherwise was a play of grey, blue, red and orange set in order from the ground upwards without a definite point of distinction. A group of three birds, crows most probably, flew overhead enjoying the sun’s late arrival to the cold morning.
My hands reached for the railing. I gripped the rods tightly looking for security. I looked around me to spot the different lives sailing with me. Some on their phones, some sat with their eyes glued to the cold blank floor, as if they didn’t deserve to be uplifted by nature’s display of her beauty, some staring down at their watches to scrutinize each second to realize how late there were while others stood with a blank expression staring out onto the river, probably going over what they did wrong, playing the images on repeat, making themselves miserable. Me? I stood leaning on the railing looking out also. But I wasn’t in my misery. My misery was behind me. I looked forward to life. And for now I looked forward to my destination. And amongst the crowd I was alone. This was my moment and mine alone. No one could have robbed me of this moment, and no one can make me forget.  
The river gave me peace of mind. Its tranquility and its continuity made an energy of constancy flow within me. A belief that this too shall pass, that every moment shall pass. Never ending was its path. A path which life had chosen. Who are we to disrupt it? Who are we to stop? Life flowed on. And times were not always smooth sailing. There will be waves rocking you, making you lose your balance, there will be rocks at the bottom, sometimes holding you together while other times damaging your base. With time and distance the river will get polluted, but it all depends on what you want to show and what you choose to see. It will be used, to its maximum capacity, with only a handful of souls to stop and think about it and do something about it to the best of their abilities. Things varying in all sizes will cross it, sail by without paying any heed to the water beneath it making them sail smoothly, never appreciating it, and soon it becomes a part of them which they pay no attention to it. It will always be there though. Its existence will always prevail over it being ignored. And when you stop to think, it’ll be there pushing you along the way, to your destination, where you will have to say goodbye to the picture perfect moments, the soul touching feelings and the voice within you which screams in its silence to set yourself free.
A prose once in a while is acceptable i guess. Comments? :)
Ashmita Jan 2013
Scars
Dark with time,
Hollowness around,
Self-inflicted was the intention?
Reasons beyond that were unwanted.
Why blame someone else?
It was your mistake.
Hence, your doing.
Misery? Pain?
Mere words to the world.
Cover ups can’t help,
For embedded underneath your skin,
Cold and heartless,
It creeps at your attention.
Eyes are drawn to it,
Questions raised of your sanity.
What do they know?
When you’ve died,
Over and over again,
Amongst the dark walls,
On the sea of tears,
Drowning, choking.
Eating you from within,
Reminding you of the days,
When death seem more favorable,
To breathing.
The shadows lurk behind the walls,
Those ears have heard everything,
Eyes have seen every laugh, every tear.
Shadows of times gone by,
Of yesterday, an eternity away.
They haunt, they mock.
They watch you,
In company they hide in the darkness,
Only to crawl to you,
When left alone.
Slowly taking over every cell,
Possessing is with the needles,
Turning your smile upside down,
Fists quenched, teeth at breaking point.
Nightmares take over your mind,
Despair takes over your soul,
Your heart loses its warmth,
You are left to its mercy.
And they never go,
Etched not only in your skin,
But also your soul,
It never leaves.
Yes, it’s bitter,
But you won’t know,
Unless you are scratched,
By life’s claws.
It will come for you,
Prey you down,
Swallow you whole,
Grip at your chest,
“Why?” you will ask,
When the answers are right in front of you,
Scarred.
Ashmita Jan 2013
Mistake not my dark appearance,
Robed in black behind you,
To be evil, and unwanted.
For I am a part of you,
And you are my means of existence.
I am but your fallen half,
I consist of the wrongs you have done,
The miseries you have suffered,
and the evils you did not deserve.
Black with shame, I am never to leave,
For without me, you shan't know,
The rays of happiness.
And when the joy shines on you,
Without me, you wouldn't realize,
For you won't be able to see,
Just how much you have overcome,
And how far you've reached;
Since that first cry of innocence,
To that last laugh of surrender.
I am you, yours and only,
To follow you to the grave as promised,
And possibly beyond,
As your shadow, we are tied,
Never to part, right?
Ashmita Feb 2013
Are those sparks I see?
I think I’ve seen them before,
Those magical moments,
When life slows down
For you, and only you.
When possibilities of skipping heartbeats arise,
When breath fails you
When your eyes are locked
Hand entangled
And you are, finally, warm.
You wake up, though,
Only to find the company who cradled you,
Lost; like the sneaky night,
Which slipped away
Leaving you behind
For reality and the bitter world
To dawn upon you.
And it all happened behind shut eyes.
You were blinded by nature,
And you will be again.
Because it takes several sparks
Several tries and retries
To get a fire going.
Ashmita May 2013
Yes its something i scribbled here and there a long time ago*

A dark night dawned upon us as i found myself on a little boat decorated with little lights and me and my heart throb stood facing the wide open sea. we didn’t speak. didn’t move. didn’t blink. i soaked the sweet smell of the sea and let the wind into my hair. then we slowly climbed into the ice cold waters. we looked into each other’s eyes and just stayed as we were. an invisible element slowly but gradually pulled us apart and no matter how much i tried swimming, my body was possessed by the unknown.
he drifted apart, away and in the dark, desolate night, and i found myself at sea. with no one to save me.

i woke up to find myself on the floor near the entrance of my house door. my eyes were heavy with dried tears and my body ached. i felt empty, hollow, like something was missing.

yes. the boy i loved was a nightmare to me. just like every other nightmare, you end up either screaming or crying.

sleepless nights are more preferred to than this, don't you think?
Ashmita Jan 2013
He walks, he strolls, he runs.
With varying paces he controls everyone’s existence.
Clocked with age, hooded with hatred,
Shredded and withered is the cloth which entangles him,
A dark, unwanted figure,
Lurking, waiting.
Humanities’ burden on his shoulder,
Their tears and suffering etched on his skin,
He is scarred with our mistakes.
Hater of joy, he lives,
Making the clock gallop as the laughter pours,
The hours are lost behind the happiness,
And all that’s left is foreboding, longing.
His vicious cycle pays heed only to the troubled ones,
Making them wait in pain and suffering,
Stretching time, making their souls older than they are.
But by doing so, he heals,
He slowly but gradually stops the tears,
By offering the dragged hours, he looks after them,
Registers every move,
And gradually their lives are put back into track.
Their existence is scarred, souls aimless,
But they live on, and that’s what matters right?
He is time, and time is all we need,
For love and hope are temporary,
Time with its experience, rules over them,
Without time, they are mere momentary lapse of nerves.
Hidden behind everyone’s story.
He will bring you to life,
And when he feels your time has come,
He will accompany you, till forever and beyond.
For he is the holder of forever,
He is time, the healer.
Ashmita Jan 2013
This is not a poem, but its close to my heart, so I thought I'd put this up.

"We're walking these streets like they're paved with gold
Make any old excuses not to go
Neither one of us want to take that taxi home."

She came out of the movie hall with a new soul. A new life, a new beginning. As he held her hands, for the first time, in a long time, she felt safe. Even if what she had, posed the greatest threat to her. Disappointment. All over again. But in that one moment she knew what she wanted.    
She'd never leave that hand. No matter what it took, she'd be there, holding on. She swore she'd never let this go. And with that conclusion, she was born again. With hot tears, she was rejuvenated.
This time, her tears were the reason she smiled.
This time, she got back the heart she had once given away.
This time, she was loved.
Her knees were week, her heart palpitated, butterflies in her stomach. Her mind, not working.
Time stood still. And it felt perfect.
"I'll be back in a moment", he kissed her hand so delicately as if she was so fragile. As if she'd break in an instant. She would have. She was a crystal waiting to be damaged. But there was something in his eyes which told her, he'd be back.
Reluctantly, but gradually she let him go. He took one look and turned and ran away. Her gaze followed him. He felt it. He looked back, winked and carried on.
He came back. Not with a horse carriage, but with a old taxi. it really didn't matter as long as he was in it.
"Come on in"
His presence invited her in. He took her by the shoulders. And she was where she belonged. She closed her eyes for just a moment to take it all in. He took her hands and held on tight. And as the road went on, she found herself wishing it would not lead home. Wishing it could just take them away. She didn't care were that away was. As long as it was away.
She smiled. Holding nothing back, she laughed.
She was no longer the girl with a broken smile.
The taxi driver kept looking back. They were as bad as newlyweds. Shy, yet nothing could possibly keep them apart. And from the corner of her eyes she caught the old taxi driver deliver a smile of acceptance.
With both hesitance and surety, she kept taking risks, going further and further closer to home, together, in each other's arms. Because for the first time in her life, she HAD something to loose. Because the risk was worth it. every moment of it.      
She understood what she had in her hand. It was something familiar. Something warm and cozy. It was love.
A love which wasn't understandable. A love unknown. A strange and sudden development.
Her wall had been broken once again. This time, easier than before.
And it only took a taxi ride home for it to be realized.
Ashmita Feb 2013
‘Vague memories, nothing but memories.’ – Yeats.*

Lost again are you in your thoughts?
The parades of events march you by.
Faces, nothing but faces.
Vague blurs of eyes, haunting your dreams,
Blank black backgrounds,
Sheer silence screams for significance,
Why can I not remember?
Touches, footprints, words left incomplete,
You go back, try to at least,
To print out your shaky emotions
For in record you will behold your sorrowful story,
Long absences of warmth,
Overwhelming joy of being wanted,
And the lies behind each and every sly grin.
You wait, any moment now, right?
You wait, with patience devoid of hope, you wait.
What are you waiting for?
Faces, nothing but faces.
They pass you by, soulless and aimless,
Without a purpose, they enter your existence.
Little acts which accompany a quite smile,
Shy in its being, hidden from judgment,
It exists.
Upon some isolate dark corner,
Palms upholding your sunken face, you sit,
On one corner of the bed
Among the sea of sheets lying ruffled,
You drift away.
Ashmita Jan 2013
The leaves are worn out,
With time embedded in its existence.
They glide, as they freefall,
From the towering tops off,
The guardians of the forest.
The air, crisp and cold,
Lifts them mid flight and they float away,
Yellow with the age of a year.
It was autumn, and the birds were in their glory.
Singing, whistling, enjoying,
Their chirps faintly audible,
Though their presence could not be ignored.
The roads were paved with footprints invisible,
Of people who travelled ages ago.
After which it was left to nature’s exposure.
The rays from the heavens descended,
From the gaps made courteously by the canopies,
Like beams of lights, they lit up the world below.
The branches droop with age on its heavy shoulders.
They make way for us to walk beneath them,
They invite, they lure with their beauty.
“Tread the ways no one has gone”
They ask. “Why so alone?”
The winds urge me,
They push me along,
They float by, brushing against my skin,
Sticking like needles made of ice,
They hurt, yet inspire.
The sun’s warmth was meaningless,
To this invisible power,
Gliding by with its uttermost grace,
Amongst the path set ablaze.
Through the fiery depths of heaven,
I walk, alone.
Ashmita Jan 2013
A sea of white sheets lay
a night gone by without you,
pillows lie untouched
oh, the tears were not few.

Can you hear me cry?
I think not,
for would you not care
to even say a hi?

Sitting there, your shadows mock me
your sent lingers, and your eyes haunt,
you touch sends chills down my spine,
i realized, i had crossed the sanity line.

Your ruffled hair slips through my fingers,
soft with care,
and my imagination lingers
in my darkest despair.

Your lips, pink and untouched,
await my arrival,
or that's what I believed,
as I live in denial.

I found peace in you eyes,
thinking about them on me,
i died,
every time i closed mine.

For you where there, everywhere,
in my work, in my play,
and i expected a stare,
instead my eyes wonder aimlessly going astray

Tossed and turned on a bed left cold,
wet with signs of misery,
lonely with nothing but memories old
left on rewind repeatedly.

The nights were long,
my eyes, heavy with tears dried,
motionless i lay for hours without count,
forever? you lied.

The clock ticked on, as i recalled,
moments spent when the needles crossed
a particular position,
when the laughs, the silence, and the fights were left to recollection.

I lost a friend,
somewhere along in the bitterness,
was it the end?
could I be anything but hopeless?

I crawled to your side of the bed,
hoping to find you there among the vastness of memories,
it was all in my head,
you were missing, again.

you were not gone,
you persisted within, as me,
a part which would never leave,
yet, a part left incomplete.
Ashmita Jan 2013
The sound of your voice,
Your fragile touch,
Your lingering sent,
They never leave my mind.

Mindless, unrelated jokes,
Careless mix up of words,
Horrible nicknames,
Yes, I need those.

Untimely bursts of laughter,
Sudden “I love you”s
Tight bear hugs,
Yes, I need those.

Late night talks,
No topic of conversation,
Long messages having no point,
Yes, I need those too.

Your insecurities,
Your worries and you’re sorry-s  
Someone to set me at ease,
Yes, how can I live without these?

Someone to hold my soul together,
Look into my heart,
And read my mind,
How can I forget that?

Someone to keep my feet on the ground,
Wipe my tears,
And bring me around,
Yes, I need someone.

Someone to give me memories,
Moments cherished,
Forever and always, right?
Yes, I need them.

Someone to sing me to sleep,
One who’ll stand by me,
Understand me without words spoken,
Oh, I need those too.

Someone to care, someone to miss,
Someone who will show me bliss,
Always open is his door,
Yes, I need those.

Time, I need time,
Time to open up,
My own time to be understood.
Yes, I need time.

Trust me,
For my source of strength is you.
Your arms are my sweet escape.
Yes, I need that vacation.

Yes I need your smile, your funny faces,
Your remembrance, your acceptance,
Your flaws and your giggles,
Yes, and above all, I need your existence.

— The End —