Category Archives: Life
This pandemic has made us work more than before, so for the sake of comfort I revamped my Writing/Work Setup. A mini office for the mini accomplishments .
My Writing/Work Setup
Taste of Insecurity – Haibun
I lie on the ground, the grass is still wet from the fog.
I turn and turn, the rose petals are still shameless, it’s like the dying autumn, massacred by the winter.
I seek you in the dream I always had, near a valley, by the sea, the coral reefs too stubborn to die. Taste that water, the blue elixir. Don’t just leave me with a sense of insecurity, It feels like a packet of cigarettes from a night you cannot remember on your tongue. The seagulls will laugh on a specie with no control over heart. I dream of you for your voice is the dream : subtle, pure and forgiving. The lands of the beach are a sign to find to a spot to sleep when the moon drinks itself to brightness. I turn into a universe that kisses the galaxy. So close but so imagined.
My heart, flower now,
Crush it for the taste once
Touch me tonight ,once.
Light
And who do you become?
by swallowing a light deciphered
through a stained glass,
For its crystals are lattices of memory,
that have caressed your ghostly voiceless passages.
It breaks in an afternoon, you never noticed ,
The memory vaporizes
and before you know, it smells as if
someone remembers you in a time you forgot.
Do you become a ghost, savoured by unfiltered light, blinded to the earth by a touch that warms?
Is this how they mix, fear and nostalgia
to a heart that is child to its own and aloof of its lineage?
Art
If all the beauty in the world
ceases to exist someday,
You would still be the unwritten poem for me,
The one I could never finish.
For I fear, that if I do so,
You would be lost forever in this world,
in the unseen books and the untouched pages
and in the hands of all those admirers,
whose fingertips have forgotten,
the art of patience.
Deciphering a Red Silence.
Every ray of sunlight,
is a drop of warmth
melted by god’s eyes
You, a silver mirror,
That can glitter my hand even in the darkness,
as if a thousand ants enjoying a living feast,
for their heart’s are as restless as a lover’s hunger for voice.
In my dreams, each night,
Someone cleaves the sky with no voice.
It becomes a darkroom where I fumble with trembling hands,
my memories dipped in a pool of questions,
like a photograph being developed in a room full of darkest red wines.
I wake up to a room devoid of light,
wishing to be in a subway where no one cares for your existence if you have learned to forget your hands.
I sleep wishing the subway leads to nowhere.
A silence is a powerful noise,
When shall our ears act like our eyes?
– Shashank Bhardwaj
Shipwreck
there is a searing in my chest
as I shed this skin of
nostalgia-laced prayers
the coldest night of the year falls
as I remember when I felt cold with you –
solemn breaths of the sea
heaving against a ragged coast
Irish rain drowning the countryside
with the aching vigor of an old god
the black trees that spoke of loneliness
cliffs cloaked in the seduction of solitude
gray castle walls climbing towards the sky,
encircling us in cold medieval stone
when I was with you I felt everything
until nothing was left
you left me with piles of driftwood
hinting at the shipwreck below
like redrawing constellations
you erased me from the sky,
I discard your cruel revisions
and bury our goodbyes
– Shashank Bhardwaj
Writings to Heaven 