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himangshu Mar 2020
People ask me what do I write about?
Sometimes after reading my poems they give an awkward silence as if they’ve read something bad.
And again everything boils down to the obvious question that they’ll ever have …
“What do you write about ???”
If I say that they are about my feelings, they’re love poems,
The only question that flies out of the crowd is that :
“Who broke your heart?”
“Whom do you write about?”
“Whom do you write for?”
This was and still is the only question to which I didn’t had neither I have any immediate answer,
because no one broke my heart, neither they ripped me apart…
They just moved away from me like the wind which I just started liking…
So,
Poetry has it’s own form of heart  break.
It indulges you and keeps you away,
It binds you back yet makes you fall apart.
Poetry does not happen when only your heart is broken…
It happens when you start questioning  yourself ,
when you start doubting  the relationship you just had,
or when you over-think to an ideal situation,
Ideal situation of an ideal love, not knowing that
Love is like the flames of a borne fire…,
Never the same but sometimes diminished.

Sometimes those people write the best kind of love poems who
have had no relationships at all.
But that doesn’t mean that they haven’t experienced love or their heart hasn’t been broken.
There are a million professions in this world and so
Are the reasons to have a broken heart.

Love poems aren’t about the feeling of love,
They are ones perspective about love.
Love poems aren’t a side effect of separation…
They are an aftershock of over-thinking.
So,
over-thinking leads to huge drafts like these which tends to be meaningless with time
and never hold back the same value they had to the writer when they were written,
just like this write-up you’ve just read
or the democracy in which you live …
An answer to all the questions asked which were left unanswered
himangshu Mar 2020
To the nights they lived,
And the days they saved;
He raised a toast at their wedding day.
...
For he who enjoyed the toast
Left her in second thought
After breaking their promise
on the first day
of their
    marriage…
himangshu Mar 2020
For all the time that did rust away
And
All the light that did fade away.

The house hath sheltered the moths and dust …
Adored the relics and the wall

The man who set the paper and the mechanical typewriter
Scribbled ‘1st Try’ on the paper
and passed away …
There was a picture that i came across lately. It was an old mansion with a type-writer which was layered with dust and had a page inserted in it as if someone was about to type something and there was a picture of a man beside the typewriter.
this rally worked enough for me to pen this verse
himangshu Feb 2020
At 17th year of life there’s one point
In everyone’s life when you feel lost …
Somewhat insecure and mature,
So this was the point of my life…

Completely lost…
In what I’m doing,
And what I want to do…

I wasn’t raised religious …
And yesterday I tried to pray …
But I didn’t know what to say…
The feeling of oblivion is right into me
Even when people around me keep saying
That they will remember me for their life…
himangshu Jan 2020
The first text conversations wasn’t so exciting and
Late night wishes aren’t so boring

Only gift that I can give u is
a small little piece of writing...

I don’t know what should I write to make u
Not want to throw this away...
But over this distance
I can sing u off key notes ,
Write u things,
And if literature doesn’t bores you
Then we can talk about our favourite authors…
But for now just talk to me …
..
..
..
HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!!
It’s your birthday today …
and I could give u this much…
but don’t worry next time
there will b that much which will be compared to this much
and that that much won’t be this much…
himangshu Nov 2019
A mother's melody is never known
and a father's note is never matched.
It is a song that is
pitched with happiness
&
tuned with forgiveness...
himangshu Nov 2019
I don't know what it is...
Maybe the month that follows
Or the unsent texts in my phone.
Maybe the silver lining of your dress
Or the glamorous heels of your shoes.
I really have no clue of what it is...
The feeling of jealously
Or the pain of betrayal.
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