A Confectionery

What is a writer, you ask? A writer is a million universes disguised as one soul, A tireless river of emotions trapped within one body, A mirage of contentment, a facade of peace A writer is a world within a world. What is a writer made of, you ask? He is made up of all the elements, Each one in opposition of the other, There is no balance, equilibrium doesn't exist. He rages, like undying fire, He flows, like the fierce river He wanders, like aimless wind He is as endless as the unending void He is as composite as mother earth herself. What does a writer do, you ask? He brings to life the world of the unknown, He conjures new worlds from thin air, He dusts the wry corners of our squalid minds, He awakens our entranced conscience. Dangerous is the one who masters his ink, For he has both; the power to create, And the efficacy to destroy With one stroke.

You tell people you’re not too comfortable about hanging out with them. You tell them you’re not okay with open public spaces. You tell them you’d rather stay at home than go out to a carnival/fair. And they think that you think you’re too cool to hang out with them, or that you’re so full of yourself, and even worse, they start disliking you because you avoid their company. But I wish I could make people understand what really goes on in my mind in such times. Are you terrified of certain situations too, or of a lot of things in general? Do unfamiliar situations scare the hell out of you? Well then, hi-5. And that feeling has a name, by the way, anxiety. I wonder how such a random word could define so much about so many of us. So many people think that anxiety is just that little unpleasant feeling you get sometimes. But in reality, that’s just 2% of the actual thing. I’ll tell you what anxiety is really like. Its like being trapped in a box where you can’t breathe, or lik...

Do not lure me with the clatter of your coins, I seek not your riches. Do not trap me in the maze of your fantasies, For I have no care for them. Do not engage me with your honey-coated words, I seek no dry talks. Do not drape yourself in a veil of pretence, For my eyes see far beyond. Do not present to me, monochrome, in the name of simplicity I seek wild colors flowing like rivers What I seek, from you Is merely, the real you I seek to open the vaults to your deepest fears I seek the raw, unadulterated word. I seek to unclothe you of that pretence I seek to set you free. To watch you wander untamed, To unleash upon the universe, All that you have hidden.

Sleepless nights Scarred thoughts Vague memories Flashes of terror Weary mornings Dragging days Horrific crowds Screams inside Torn wallpapers Broken frames Shattered glass Rivers of tears And then, slowly Mind, a blank canvas Thoughts, lethal Tears, dried Emotions, dishevelled Soul, dead.

So many stories to be told So many poems to be recited So many places to be explored So many hearts to be won. Yet, here you are Pondering and wondering About solutions to problems That in the first place, never existed! Here you are Slouching from the burden of your worries Not realising, that you could drop it down Just as quick as you picked it up! Here you are Waiting for the carriage of your dreams to arrive Not knowing, that it awaits you, The coachman! So pick that pen up, Book that ticket, Strike that conversation, Take the plunge. The world awaits you.

Teach your little heart To be brave For the storm will pass The skies will clear And the sun Will rise again. The oceans of your worries Will dry up Just like the frost That engulfs your existence Will melt. Know that there lies A world of unprecedented stories And thoughts and emotions Within your fragile heart. Do not let despair Spill into your heart For in the end It will only destroy.

And maybe when the seas all dry up And the trees shed all their leaves And when rain is no more joyous And when spring is no more welcome. And humans are no more humane Maybe then You will realise That not all of us Can leave a mark In this transient world But all of us Can build little homes In the hearts and minds Of those we love.

I gaze out at the horizon At the sun, sinking with with dignity. And my mind trails off To thoughts of thunder and lightening To the storm, that will mercilessly shred me And yet, fuel my very existence. But I wait, patiently For the fire will rise. It will rise again, with pride and honour And again I will burn. Burn, like my restless spark commands. Burn, like the phoenix, that will rise again.

I steady myself As the winds sighs to me An ode from you. It whispers to me your words of love as I wistfully stare at the tranquil sky the clouds enshroud the homeward sun as silhouettes silently slide on the landscape I hang on to your words to each note, to each pause and even to those trifling sighs I entitle myself To be devoured by your words As my conscience leisurely frays.

Dear Sehr , I will be long gone by the time you read this. I’m not even sure whether you’ll ever read this letter. I’m sorry, extremely sorry, for I had to leave you and go away, forever. But I had no other choice. Had I stayed, your father would have made me see hell. I’m sorry, for I had to leave you alone in your journey. But remember, my child, I love you. No matter what. I’m sorry to have deprived you of the love that every child deserves, of the support that every child wants, and of the guidance that every child needs. If you ever happen to read this letter, remember, that I’m still with you, and you’re not alone. Let me tell you one thing, Sehr . Life is not a bed of roses. You have to make tough choices, at every step. You have to let go of things you love. I’ve always made the wrong choices, all my life, this one too, seems equally wrong. I hope I won’t be regretting it. I love you. PS-> I shall be waiting...