Moonlight

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Reddishness in the sky fades,
As the stillness in darkness ascends.
In the slight azure above horizon,
Birds return their homes together,
Flapping up and down their wings in twilight.
The calm and composure in the faint light,
Oozing out from clouds in flow,
Bathes the silent world with affection.
Its moon-face, a token of love for many
And a sign to embark into actions for werewolves.
For me, the face of moon reflects my heart.
I can touch my heart in reflection at lake.
A timid hush, as a comfort and healing
From the day’s tiredness is the moonlight for me.

Photograph Courtesy : Anshul Gautam's ViBGYOR


The Open Window...

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(Click on Image to Enlarge)

On closing my eyes, I fill thick brooded meshes in my lungs with air… I hold it for a while, pushing it a little further, until I can hold it no more. Freshness sprouting outside my open window descends deep down into me… Perhaps, its spring; I can see through the open window, trees ladened with new leaves and buds; birds chirruping, squeaking around in happy-playful mood. Jolly squirrel nests on the tree too, jumping from branch to branch. Sometime they stop by at the open window, staring at my partially lit face.

Can I be ever free? I have been captive under chains of my psychotic mind. Along every perspectived dimension in my mind, there jolts clumsy curiosity; the curiosity to arrive at a clue to freedom, a way to cut bars in the open window, to dissolve the tiny autumn within me and dilute it into the sprawling spring outside.

Tools made out of elemental love, I have used enough. Adamant chains tied around my torso don’t listen to them. In the environs of spooky silent nights, my imaginary friend visits me. He preaches to carve my tools out from hatred, assuring the success on blood soiled chains. Morally fed soul of mine ravages at this juncture; it still trusts in love, although yet to recover from past injuries bought in the love’s conspiracy.

The sunlight is warm, grazing over green trees outside the open window. At a certain time of the day, the Sun bathes my dark pestered room, throwing a shine of hope on my face. It’s the time when my friend in my shadow visits me. He shares his thoughts with me, conjuring me about life; What is life?

As the Sun rises up in the sky, friend in my shadow recedes, and he is away when its all dark again. He left me a note yesterday… When the Sun was bathing me in a spotlight of hope today at its time, I read the note:

“Life is beautiful outside your open window. Free yourself from the chains that never physically existed. Free yourself from the captivity laid by chains of your diverse mind. I am waiting, outside your open window….                                                  -Anshul"

Brain-sick's Diary #3 >> Cold Emotions

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I am swimming in a pool of thoughts. In a silent room, doors closed, panes in windows shut, and lights from my laptop screen is the only source; unveiling a part of my face, more of my hands on the keyboard. With denial of connection somehow with brains, here is something my heart wants to spill out. Its my birthday today. And I am wondering, why did the God select me for my mom. Could this not have happened that some other baby was lucky enough to get into my mom’s womb? Why it was me?
There are questions that are unanswerable. Then I wonder why do such questions have to exist, when answers to them are never found. My mind throttles deep down into such thoughts, mesmerizing me with unanswerable questions.
On my headphone, its Coldplay playing… 'Fix you'.


‘When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse…
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?’

How true this song is. I cant explain the sufferings, affection that got killed, in course of events that I faced and left them behind on my timeline. But somewhere, I lie struck in reverse. Is the past so dear that we tend to overlook the pleasant and optimistic present? The formidable past, that’s what heart believes, keeps poking from under the veil of sewn stitches. 

It has been quite a span, and I haven’t come up here with a post that’s significant. It was this song by Coldplay, that pushed my fingers onto the keyboard, and pinned down emotions of abstract blend on my blog.

I have been busy with my work, my college, my tries at photography and in mesh of complex thoughts. But I expect to come back here with colors in poetry…