Scribbles and stories.

Through the roads as we go, Broken and endless, You look out and play with your hair, You never asked me where we were going nor bothered to, Not because you trust me, But because firmness was never your thing, It's a beautiful place, you tell me finally I look at you, You are beautiful You look back at me, Blank eyes, just like you. As we take the road once travelled, You doze away. Mid-way, I stop the car and walk away, For honey, when you wake up Take your own roads, Cuz you are never the destination, You are the path, The road.

You dugged your grave, Kept aside your funeral dress, Took a glance of people you love, You kissed me and said, "Don't think of me, anymore." That was the farewell, that was last words. Today, You wore the same dress But instead of you, it's me in that grave, You look at me for one last time, You kiss me again, Honey, don't think of me anymore, Can you?

The paper was not black then, It's naked now. With words and thoughts, And senseless emotions...

You prefer sunrise and I, sunsets; Maybe that's why we love so deeply, For you crave for life and I dead, For you are the beginning and I , the end.

As my pen touches the paper, I know naught what to bleed, The white sheet pleading, And I looking back helplessly And in between us stands the pen confused. The paper so pale and timid, Only will is to live. As my pen touches the paper, I provide words, I provide emotions, I provide life. I gave a part of me to it. As my pen touches the paper, With words I fill, emotions flows, With the pen being my sword, And paper being the battlefield. The words are me, I, who fought and won that war. Oh! Dear paper, Soon I would be far gone, But you, are to see the world. You would be a treasure. Everything would be destroyed But, Oh Dear paper, never you. As my pen touches the paper, It burns, And let the fire explode the paper, Today, Oh paper! We are one. As my pen touched the paper, I bleed, And thus, a new poem began...

When tears flowed, She picked up her pen, It was not the ink that flowed, It was blood, pain and grief that flowed like a river seeking for justice. And for now she knew! She knew that the world will end on fire coz destruction was all what she tasted, And that fire in your eyes was the cause of her destruction. After all, pain is poetry.

When the snow began to melt and the blossoms bloomed, I walked by the meadow, Dewdrops like pearls and humming of birds, Flossy clouds and cold breeze, And there, between the evergreen pines I saw you, And I see you saw me too, You smiled knowing exactly what will happen, And I, smiled back. The sun was shining bright and we, brighter For we were young and new in love, What were we talking? I never knew, But you made me believe in my dreams and that moment I realised that you were my dream, As the waves were hitting the shore, we promised forever. As time goes, forever was not the same anymore, Not love it was but a burden more, And thus, the last leaf fell, Which once stood bright, And now on ground. And in the end, When everything was white and pure, The snow cold and dead, Nothing was spoken, Just hearts which were broken, Dreams shattered and promises fractured​, You went away and I was frozen. Our Love was like Seasons, It didn't last...

As we sit cross legged looking outside our window, I can see the sun setting, It's been years since we've watched it together isn't it? I kneel against you and you hand me over my cup of chai, As we look into that orange sky You hold me close, Of guilt or regret. We often forget the most important things in life, So did us, We forgot to appreciate, to love, And us. We were busy building our house, that we forgot to make it home. Today as we sit down together, we know this won't last either, We'll wither away, Work, commitments, society; Excuses. The sun went down, And the sky turns pink, You hold me closer now As if you want to hold on to this moment forever, As if you want to lock this moment, me; "Stay please?", you ask me, I lock our fingers and smile. "I'm not going anyway anywhere."

Was it that bright green eyes and dark red hair that tortured you, Or was it the love that you could never confess? I cried when you held Lily close to your heart For the first and last time, Dumbledore called you disgust, when you asked Voldemort to spare Lily; But let me ask, What is disgust in love? "Look at me" was your last words, And I know, in those green eyes you were looking for someone else, looking at someone else. You were heartless, they said And it's true, your heart died along with Lily that night in Gordic's hallow, isn't it? "EXPECTO PATRONUM" And from the tip of your wand, those silvery lines forms into a doe. Lily's patronus. It's was love, At it's most purest form. For Lily, for yourself. When you tore Lily's signature from her letter That night at Grimmauld Place, You knew she was alive and happy, once Like in that photograph, And you wanted to keep some of her to yourself. Close to yourself. Y...

Aaj jaane ki zid naa karo As I turn on the radio, I can hear Farida ji pleading, It's raining outside, and I think of you again Love has always been selfish, Orelse why would I think of you, of us We have loved for a lifetime to let go, But still, I ask you Give me this moment, just once? To reminisce, to love, to stay. With every word, every breath I fall again, hopelessly. But, As she finishes that last line Aaj jaane ki zid na kaaro... I know , I won't ask him to stay. I know, I would let him go...

When the sun burns half, And wind carries hope, Write me a poem.

"Have you ever fallen in love with a poet?" I look straight into his eyes. "No." I replied. He smiles, "well, you shouldn't." He hands me down a folded paper. Beautiful cursive handwriting, royal blue ink, and a poem. I smiled back. I didn't read it. I couldn't. He looks at me, touches my fingers; "what happens when two poets fall in love?" His eyes dazzled, doubtful yet hopeful. "They leave." I replied. You leave the people you love, not for them. But for oneself. Love was never meant for loving, but for leaving. I gave him back a folded paper and left. // Have you ever fallen in love with a poet? There lies a poem in these fingers, For you, of you. When the sky turns black, and the world stays still, I wrote it then How do I tell you, Loss is poetry and not love, I loved you enough to leave now, Before I turn into your poem, your love, your loss, Let me complete first, But the more I try Words fail me I know ...

Indian Coffee House, The most beloved. There is a special kind of vibe and happiness that this place spreads. Men in white dress and traditional cap, serves the best cutlets in town with their masterpiece beetroot sauce. And even now, it tastes just like how Achan had brought it for the first time years ago! The pink coloured water in that kuppi class and off white cutlery always remains nostalgic. In those faded pink walls on one side you find AKG and on the other, Nehru. Mathrubhumi, Manorama, Deshabhimani, Hindu, Times, almost every newspaper can be seen in those racks over here. You can find all groups of people discussing, debating, gossiping, reading, and what not. It feels like time stands still here, as if time was tired of running. Maybe you even wonder, how much things have changed over the years. This place has witnessed people grow and generations change. And definitely, this is the only place where this chaaya lover would choose kappi, without a second thought! :D ....

Let me paint the sky today, As clouds brush down the colours, it flows from blue to orange to red to pink to grey, For the wind brings along stories, untold. Today, of a far away land, Someone awaiting, With the promise of return, Pleading the time to stay, a little longer With anticipation, hope, and love. Let me paint the sky today, Of orange, Of longing.