Got caught up in this thing called bliss
Trapped inside this euphoria
When indulgence was in my grip
Light and Dark is on its fast forward phase
When all senses comes back to you
You'll figure out that something's missing
Then you'll realize what you willingly gave
Just for the sake of fun
And when the source is out
It won't recognize your being
What's left of you is all you had
The feeling of some part of you is empty
Indulged by some to taste the pleasure
After you found out you lost
There's the regret creeping inside you
And you.....can never take it back
It was never meant to be given back
Presence of loneliness will slowly haunts you
Denying will only lead to failure
Faking it won't even save you
Longing will linger


So there you go......alone.......


Smiling for the better times,
And sobbing after being left behind

An agent, choosing freely
doomed to a  fate,  I  know not
or a puppet dangling from a string?

Imagine life as a choir of singlular ripples 
on the surface of a pond, entropic little  dances 
intersecting, until each has passed and gone, each
playing their part, in life's orchestra of cause and *effect

Happy are those who found it
Happy are those who stayed
Happy are those whose real
The ones who pictured themselves forever
Happy are those who held hands
Stayed up all night to comfort each other
Whose hearts content and without doubts
Who found haven in the arms of their love
Happy are they for they will stay youthful
For the love they shared will never grow old

To anyone feeling sad right now, these are not the moments you will remember, in 5 years time when your smile stuns even the coldest of hearts, you will not remember this date and time, and you will not remember that your sorrow once tried to eat you alive and you sat and felt tears roll down your face. These are the moments that will blur and fade from your memory until you are left with the slightest haze of recollection that things were not perfect once, but the happiness you feel will drown that out until you perceive sadness as a fractured figment of a dream that visited you long ago. You are not your losses, your failures, you are the extent to which you loved, not the numbers of those who loved you in return. This sadness is temporary, your dreams, your hope, that is eternal. Be defined by your joy, it leaves deeper impressions.

Let me out
I’m your art
I’m your life
I am pain
Therefore I am beauty

Let me out
Don’t do this
You know you need me
You can’t keep me
I know you need me

I’ll have the sins
I’ll take the punches,
I’ll be torn apart.
I’ll break a bone if I had to..
I won’t let them destroy you
I won’t let them get the best of you

I am evil...
But I’ll be the one who’ll protect you

Don’t worry about me.

I was made to bear the pain,
To absorb the madness
To swallow all of your fears..

Embrace me.
Accept me.
And you’ll never feel empty
Again...

Deep within you
I rest..
I know you can feel me too.
Somehow you know,
I'm waiting here for you
Waiting for you….

To let me out…

I wasn’t born to write
With every bent petal,
and every fallen leaf,
my ma’s sweet kisses
And papa’s gentle smile
I learned to write

A five year old me was once fascinated
by the loop of an ‘e’
and the playful swing of an ‘m’,
The wide smile of a ‘d’ delighted me
Words were powerful and mesmerising,
now they lie discarded and ignored
in broken stanzas of self proclaimed irrelevance

I watch the black ugly marks
That taints countless sheets of paper
They surround me in a sea of ink
That once flowed carefully and slowly
A thousand thoughts with each single word
Drained lies my mind, my breath’s not a whisper but a plea
My heart pumps blood not ink, I’m not a poet, it says
Incoherent scribblings mock me with their existence

As a child, confined spaces scared me
But now, a confined mind petrifies me with just a glimpse
A pen stays gripped in my hand
I wonder what it fears more
My inability to let the ink flow coherently
Or my arrogant ramblings, regardless
And fearless of consequences
While I stumble on disjointed verses

A paper aeroplane is my best accomplishment
In my two hour search for freedom and thought
Who cares for pretty words and mystifying couplets?
When the idea of a paper boat seems much more exciting

-പ്രിയാന്ഷി ദാസ്‌