Yugantar Writes

You should see me walk now, Or, maybe you shouldn't But I know you would not recognize me, or at least stare for a minute before having a hint. Buy, If you see me walking, on these streets where I once imagined walking with you. Hand in hand, like we once did, The road leading to your house; Carefree- it never mattered who were all around. The only thing we thought about was how your hands, fit so perfectly in mine. Because it was all just fine. I was always fine. But, Those hands that once held yours They rest restlessly in my pockets now; In a town, that is mine but is new. On these streets, that aren't but feels new. Sounds awful, But, it’s heavy to stay standing For my heart is half the size When you’re gone. You know, You should see me walk now, Or, maybe you shouldn't. I have forgotten to know things, Like, how it's like to walk and know where you're walking to; Know where you want to end up And just simply go there. I'

Love, I have no better salutation for you. For you are much more than words. Have you ever watched anyone sleep love? From start to the deepest of level you reach. Have you ever? I am watching you sleep right now love. Online, but I am watching you. I've never watched anyone sleep before, but I can tell you, I'll never feel this peaceful even if I do watch someone else. The way you move your hands, your closed eyes, your lips. Everything. The small movements you make, those occasional long breathes, and simple rhythm. There is silence and I wish I could savour it all for my lifetime. Not from this virtual screen, but being with you. You are beautiful. Not just because I like you. Because you really are. I am whispering like stupid that I love you on my earphones right now. I would have wanted you to hear what I say, but you know them anyway. It's peaceful. Everything. The rhythmic rise and fall of your blanket, your closed eyes and your hand under your cheek,

I keep awake to the dawns, To the windows, painted black And a moment, Just a moment, Before you start, drifting in me Invading my thoughts. And I, End myself up, Groping that cold, stale coffee on my windowsill The last, unfinished mug, From the last night. It's not been long since you left, No occasional message bombs, No exchanges of smiles, No hints dropped. You, You gathered yourself and left one morning, Like there was little, So little left of me, That'd fill you up. You, You left behind a void. A void, A violent void, A void, this empty, A void, that strangles, A void, with nothing. But, Still with a lot. A lot, About, how you had a crush on that guy from next school, About, how you loved momos, About, how you think Hillary'd have made a better president, About, how you'd define love as 'something else' About, how you had a lot in your mind and could only write up a portion. A void. An emptiness, Compelling me

Disclaimer:  The following writing is senseless collection of meaningless words, written being low. Better not to read if not interested. It's been two days since I last saw you, and a week since last spoken. Now, I lie motionless, partly lifeless on the bed with earphone plugged into my ears. I have skipped my normal playlist after too long and the songs are on shuffle. My blood is drowned in you now, and you know, each and every moments, with every cell of my body deoxygenating the blood grasps the alleged about you tight. You might have perceived much times from me, that you are truly beautiful. You might have heard a lot about you meaning a lot to me, and you might have heard on unvarying intervals about me loving you. But, those all really do not mean whatsoever to you, do they? Even though they do not mean anything to you, I cannot stop myself repeating those things even if I want. You are into my structure now, and getting you out is intolerable. You are a dru

My atoms I feel, Are caught by yours. And though they never meet, They feel the chemistry. The one, which though hovering Would grow together. Ones, though imperfect, Will continue thriving for perfection. I catch you in each jouska of mine, See, I am the only silent one in each anecdoche in there, For yours is the only voice I hear. The voice of yours, that soothes, The voice of yours that heals. I inhale the chaos, Thy leading myself to breathe love. But, Stuck in the presence, I never could. Words I tell you, Are delusions; like the opia I feel of yours. For those words brought me to you, They are carrying you away now. For those words used to brighten you up, Now are haunting all of me. For those words which made your smile wider Now make me feel like an empty plain white paper, Crumbled and dabbed with inks all over. Like a mirror huge, Shattered with distant stones. A bird once free, Now flightless, wingless. Breaking free, Of all the chain

(It took me 8 days to write this letter, joining parts and bringing them together. Sorry to be out of touch) Dear,     This one is my first letter to you. I do not know even if I have the right to call you 'dear', but, let us build on with it; at least for this letter. This letter is not just a love letter. This letter is recollection of my memoir, the way I had been and the way I am now. I don’t know that if you even care, but, yes, I know you will definitely run your eyes through these words after getting this letter.     You might have known when this all begun right? Right from the day you promised our friendship would never end. My hands were wrapped around yours, it was pitch dark, but I could still feel the warmth of your heart and see the smile of yours. No wonder that was the best evening with you. Days passed, I grasping your hand and walking back home, oh those days were wonderful.     But the way I am getting the things now, I feel I was just too dumb. I

'I really love you.' *Backspace* 'I miss you.' *Backspace* 'Miss me?' *Backspace* 'Hey!' *Enter* You see, Backspace wins the battle against Emotions.

No, I would not want anything else. I would not request anything with you. I would want you to snoop, Simply, Listen. Be sure, to hear the murkiest of me, You would know the chaos inside me, You would see a bird deprived of wings, You would acumen shedload of weeps. And all you have to do? Listen. I would hear you too; And all of you would be my concern. I will unquestionably retort the finest I can, And you, You too would work alike. You would have to hear me, Even if I would not express. You would have to apprehend my silence. You would have to feel my occurrence on my deficiency, For, I would do the same. Don't talk about the honors. You would be the only audience of my crazy melodies, You would be the only metaphor in my rubbish odes. Even if you were not there, I would be discoursing with you. And, those my dear Are castigations, not privileges. You know, I am in desperate necessity of you. Think prudently, And tell me, Would you listen

Disclaimer: Be clear at the beginning, I am not a pessimist. Yeah, I might have been disturbed by the whole day studies and late night waiting, but I am not a pessimist. I might sound like such, but I swear I am not such. I might even sound highly depressed at some point, which I have not been able to figure out myself. Its 15 minutes to midnight. I, all by myself, am still gawking at the un-replied 'Good Night' text I sent 2 hour 33 minutes ago. I am not waiting for the reply text (which do not arrive anyway) as usual. Today, I am waiting to draw a conclusion. And, though I loathe to say it, I am awfully frustrated to know that I have made myself unimportant to you. I now realize, it was my mistake. I now comprehend, I deliberated myself being too close to you, and led myself far beyond the point where you would relish my concern. I have led myself to the situation where you would not even care to throw a squint at me. I now apprehend, I have made a stern blunder. I g

Do reckon, I have a heart too. Believe it or not, This heart is fragile too, It bawls when it's strings are pulled It thuds when you come in like hurricane and leave with same swiftness, And yes, It tries to stop, with every single good bye of yours. You know, I feel like I am the 'Parker' on your pen stand, That you never lay your  hands on. I feel like I am the song on your playlist, That you skip every single time. I feel like an empty paper, Crushed and thrown into dustbin. But, you know what? I am not surprised, I was prepared, You  know, it happens all the time. And the reason? I am never at the 'curtain calls' For, I am amidst the curtains and the pulleys. Getting back, I am always there, Even if you do not care, Do come back.

For my cup of love, cupid has always been unfair. I don’t think it is a good thing to blame that stupid, innocent, little, semi-naked infant with bow and arrow. Kids love pranks, don't they? But whom should I blame then? He made a prank with my life! Why is it that he hit that arrow hard to me but not to her? Why is that I always get struck hard but not her? It all started with that pretty little smile of hers. I tried to defend myself from that. And yes dear cupid, I tried to run away from your arrow too. But you ignorant infant! You would not want my happiness right? You pulled that bow hard and that arrow went down piercing my heart. That wasn’t a big deal for you, was it? And why were you so revengeful. Just because I had no belief in you; you pulled the bow only once! You intentionally did not hit her with that arrow right? Damn! Why should not I blame you? Why could you leave me like that cupid? Why did you want to tear me apart? What about her? Wasn’t she supposed t

In the first lecture, teacher said, "Euphemism is something straight told in a twisted way!" She nodded. In the second lecture, teacher asked her,"What does your mother do?" "She Distributes Love", said the daughter of prostitute boldly. 

Let me be clear, if you fall in love with me like the way I have fell for you, I would make sure I destroy every part of you. I would not leave any part well. I don't say they would be cold as the wind blows but would definitely want me every time. It will begin normally with great good morning and loving good night texts - and I will remind you how much your texts makes me smile. I will always stay on top list, remind you of my existence even if I am not around or busy with my guitar with nil balance on my cell. I would make you listen my stories and poems. You would hear my thumb rattling through guitar and my creepy voice over it. And when you will listen to any songs with guitar, I promise you would remember that. We would go on walks. I would hold your hand tight and tighter, intertwine our fingers and caress the back of your palm with my thumb, and your palm with my pinky. I'll imprint my hand marks on your hand, and if someone else holds your hand, just the way I

You're not a lot of things. Though, You're not the blood in my arteries, You're not the map to home, You're not my favourite summer, You're not my faded denims, But You're my amigo, You're my disparity. You're my friend, You're not all of things, But you're the light in these corridors, You're the shadow in dim light, You're the two teaspoons of sugar in my cappuccino, You're the ink on my journal, You're the dried rose on my table, You're the air in me, You're my poem, you're my song. You're not a lot of things, but the most heartbreaking of them all, You're not mine.