Like Water


And so he left 

Like water sliding under the bridge 

Never constant, no matter how much I try 

It slips from my fingers, leaving slime and weed stuck to them. 

Like water, he left

As I find myself alone with void inside me 

His absence felt and but cannot be replaced 

The weed, I am, trying to catch a few drops here and there 

But its transitory and so was he. 

Closed Doors


You closed the door or I closed the door 

How does it matter since you are not here anymore? 

What I claimed was mine, was never mine

A mirage that you showed me, a packet of lies 

I took what wasnt mine, you gave what wasnt yours

So locked outside in the rain, I watch as you slam the door shut in my face 

Soaking wet, I stare at the darkness, alone. 

Drunk Through Life


Why, by the end of life, do we not remember every detail?

When you are lying on your death bed, everyone says that life as you lived it flashes across your eyes. How are you so sure that it flashes like that? Didnt that almost dead person have memory issues because of senility? All of a sudden he remembers everything just because his soul is being questioned and taken out?

Now as I wrote the above paragraph, somehow the tab got closed by me and then  when I opened it again, it asked me if I wanted that restored. I am developing a new found faith in technology!

So, where were we?

Yeah. Memory!

I have a sucky memory. I dont remember much of anything. I forget all the important things in day to day life like keys, like deadlines, like class schedules etc. And I am always held responsible for it by being called careless and stupid. I am neither! I just feel like I am drunk all the time.

What does a drunkard feel after a lot of alcohol in his system? He feels light headed and giddy, everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Well the same goes for me. Only I dont have alcohol in my system. I have something else! Is it sadness? Is it the … whats the word for not wanting to live inspite of being alive … put that word here. (its highly unlikely that I wont recall a word but it just happened above, but Eh! who cares! My kingdom this is, right?) I dont know what drives me through life. Is it food?

I doubt that.

That is my consolation prize for living through the days.

Now, Where was I?

Memory flashing across a person lying on his death bed. What if he is imagining his future which he wont have? What if he is thinking what his kids would grow up to be? What if he is thinking what will happen to his family after he dies and leaves them to suffer? All this may be on his mind too along with the “past” floating in front of him. What if he is just staring at people or the ceiling if he is alone? What if he is happy he is leaving or sad that he is leaving so many things undone? There is room for so many possibilities and its funny how we seem to choose the easiest one. Life isnt that easy. Dying is! Life is hard.