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Feb 3, 2012
Pulling at the Heartstrings
0 comments These are the terribly insignificant musings of Aishwarya Nagar at 5:34 PM
Rotating the rusted knobs,
Flicking the string,
Five more left to put in.
Five more left until she is human.
Strings are gently knotted, and harshly pulled to the end,
Where she lovingly secures them.
Lovingly, for they have never experienced such gentleness.
One breaks. A flinch drowns her face,
A tear breaks the guarded defense her eye.
The ghost of the pain
Is too much of a phantom to efface.
The strings,
Were so abused in her body; Before,
When they were in her heart,
They were played, until she was aching and sore.
When they were in her heart,
Her soul suffered so deep an injury,
They snapped, healed, and became bruised.
And she couldn't muster the energy
To tend to them.
Now they are stretched taut on her instrument,
She never had so much control of them as she does now---
Testing, a gentle pulling of a string,
And the air is filled with the sweet sound of shock---
The shrill pitch of euphoria,
Then the bass of sorrow and depression,
The melodious twang of freedom
And the underlying notes of indescribable happiness.
The house was so quiet before,
Mrs Higgins from next door thinks.
It used to be filled with screams of agony.
And now, the windows are tickled pink with beautiful music.
She is tugging at them. At her own heartstrings,
Giving them the love they were denied all along,
Expressing their identity,
Because inside her heart, they were abused and oblong.
Jan 27, 2012
Musings Of A Victim to Attraction
0 comments These are the terribly insignificant musings of Aishwarya Nagar at 5:08 PM
Such a fickle, fickle heart
As easily swayed as a balloon in flight,
As easily won as a cause protested right.
Though I'm suffocated by priorities,
I sit at my window, watching the sun rise
The violent orange streaking the sky,
And a heart willing to believe in lies.
A simple act of eye-contact
Can send it racing like a race-horse in a sprint,
Thundering past, a precisely-shot bullet in motion.
Overflowing the restricting boundaries of its precinct.
So easy to trust,
So easy to hurt,
So easy to fall in love.
So difficult to calculate,
So difficult to heal,
So difficult to regain control of the mind and body.
Such a fickle, fickle heart
So coquettish, so secretive, so easily won,
I wish you were a person of your own
So that I wouldn't be tagging along to your acts of fun.
Fickle, fickle, fickle heart
I long for the day we depart
And my mind can overcome
The games you play with me.
Dec 6, 2011
These eyes are seeing white.
Where once a smile would evoke
The visions of red colours, dancing brilliantly,
They now appear flat. Dull.
Dead.
The world that was once artistically painted
With an impressionist’s scattering of
Cerulean blues and blinding, buttery yellows
and grassy greens and vivid, rose-like pinks
their edges blurred and merging, a beautiful sight---
Everything is now grey.
As if I am colour blind.
This beating entity inside my chest
Feels detached and pointless---
Just a composition of cells and vessels
A rhythmic reminder.
Someone must have sneaked to my bed at night
Artfully slit my chest open,
Delicately extracted this heart
And boiled it in scalding water.
Nerves no more tingling with sensation,
Skin no more sensing the feathery touch of friendship,
Eyes no more seeing the colours of life.
I feel sterile,
So clean. An enchantment on my own.
Everything is numb, it’s morphine, it’s white---
There are only greys. There is no emotion.
A zombie walks through these shadowed streets at night,
Wearing my clothes,
My hair upon its head,
My voice (lifeless) emanating from its larynx,
My shoes on its feet,
My possessions in its cupboard.
Such pristine serenity
In a whirlpool of numb nothingness;
I am just a body;
A withered corpse sucked dry of blood,
An earthen pot smashed on the floor,
A soulless creature,
A sponge squeezed dry of water,
A lifeless, limp flag of independence.
Life is where love is, where freedom is,
Where trust is.
Where home is.
But I have no home.
Sep 7, 2011
Through the curtain of the smiles
And the veil of unperturbed joy,
Bruises blossom. Blood leaks.
Like the look on the the face
Of a soldier who has fought valiantly,
Falling to the ground
As bullets make fissures in his skin.
A battle has been fought across our hearts
Across this place in time;
And only I can see the stains of it
Darkening the grass and the wild mushrooms.
Through it grow the crops of strength;
The kind that comes with loss.
A gauze reclines, relaxed, over the truth
Of wounds too deep to clot and scab.
No amount of alcohol will lure out the germs,
No amount of therapy will heal them anymore.
They fester. Reminders of an internal pain.
And at the irony prevails;
The door of a house may be innocent
Where a war is waged in its four walls.
I see you. My eyes are calm.
The irises are a gauze.
And the soul is a wound.
And it is festering.
And it's reason is you.
Feb 28, 2010
Whoever you've been with me
Has been such an illusion
If this is who you really are then
Sorrow and Hell have undergone a fusion;
This is not who you are,
And yet how did I get so far
If I still believe I have you?
Why did you change like this,
What sign did I ever miss,
To have you walk away like you do?
I remember when it was just us two hangin'
Invitations on my door were bangin'
But now I feel like I'm stranglin'
Your indifference my neck is wranglin'
It makes no sense to me, not at all,
Why is it that when you break away I fall?
I thought you were my one forever and all,
I thought I knew knew ya, but not at all.
Plain and simple: you let me tumble,
When I thought you were my best friend,
And in the end, I heard a godsend,
I don't know you though you're my best friend.
People asking me what's wrong with you
Why you and I aren't walking anymore
And I just don't know.
Though I am your best friend and you mine,
I just don't know.
One day you have me hugging you
And the next you leave me alone, it's true,
Tell me why do you behave like you do?
Behave like the sky is yellow when it's blue.
You say you try to keep me close to yourself
But everytime you just kick me off your bookshelf
And at the end of the day, I walk home; it's been just confusion
Living with you and your warm illusion.
Feb 11, 2010
22) I Apologize
1 comments These are the terribly insignificant musings of Aishwarya Nagar at 5:19 AM
There's nothing more I can say
That that I apologize to you,
For the times I just stayed away
And didn't make an effort for you.
I let it all go too far; I realize it now,
I apologize if you're hurt,
I know you, and I must have been curt.
The truth is that I look away
Whenever you show that you're sad,
Because I feel that it's all because of me,
But all along, I was too dim to see.
I feel like the Demetrius to Helena
Ignoring your desperation with a blind eye,
But believe me, this is not for me,
And I'm still not ready to say Goodbye.
I don't know what I'm to speak,
Your seriousness has left me weak,
While I assume it all to be a game,
You would have never felt the same.
You're older and better. You need somebody.
But I don't - besides me, I need nobody,
And I told you I never believed in love like a child,
That fact is easy to decipher in my thought-lost mind.
The air around us is too serious for my comfort,
Where I told you I wanted nothing firm,
But you've taken me too far, the final par,
In your intensity I'm left to do nothing but squirm.
Feb 10, 2010
20) Feels Like a Girl
0 comments These are the terribly insignificant musings of Aishwarya Nagar at 8:16 AM
Persistently I may be telling you
That it cannot be, just go away,
When in my mind I love it,
I love how you flirt with me and what you say
Because it make me feel,
It make me reel,
It makes me smile like a girl;
It makes me blush,
And though our conversations are a hush,
I feel like such a girl.
The world doesn't approve of what you write
But to me, those words are the most promiscuous in sight,
For they're different to the words I hear
In my everyday passing - so dull and drear.
But your words light up my mind
That's been, for the day, the dormant kind,
And I look away just to smile-
Nobody has made me feel so feminine in a while.
I look away just to smile, oh boy,
Hoping you don't sense my joy.
Feb 7, 2010
17) I Know Pain Too
0 comments These are the terribly insignificant musings of Aishwarya Nagar at 9:35 PM
Mirrored in a person's eyes,
These lips smile and these eyes twinkle
These tresses flick and ripple
These bubbles of ecstacy show
Just these, these, and nothing more.
Not shown are the purpling bruises
Hidden beneath sweaters and a shirt,
Not shown are the marks of tears
As soap counters their tracks of hurt
Nor the blood from internal pain
Borne by the sounds of metal on flesh
Neither the the sounds of sobs again
That with each moment emerge afresh.
Just that mask,
That hides so much and shows so little,
So that the world does not judge,
And the soul is not be belittled.
Where there is no option, no shelter
The only alternative is the open;
The solace of birds and seas:
Peace do they singly shapen.
No support, no help, no aid,
Asking for the hurt to quickly fade
Just a stoked poker face
Shows and blooms and well is made.
Lies coat this utopian world
That has been built out of nothing but dreams
And what there is to my sharp pain
Nothing, no one can dream to realize
Free to be hurt, controlled and defied
I may dream, sound true, but my words are lies,
Not a single essence of my masked pain is
Mirrored in a person's eyes.
;;
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