Skip to main content

My Heart

 


My therapist told me I have a big heart. 

Little did she know that how crowded it is. 

How there is not enough space for another sane idea. 

It seems that the weeds are having a good time here, 

Feeding on the garbage around, 

Dancing at the wreckage of walls. 

There are rooms with sad songs that are played on loop, 

Rooms with multi-storage facilities for miscellaneous memories, 

The congested small ones have the happy pieces of cakes, 

With donuts and cupcakes served alongside. 

Just because I don't know how to flirt, 

There are rooms where I have locked up my crushes,

in the very posture, I want to imagine them, 

It's funny how they are thinking of their actual lovers. 

The huge pool with waters from the leaking walls are stored, 

Sometimes gets gory with less amount of attention. 

I also have wetlands where some dear ones from the past, 

Struggle in the poison of patriarchy and misogyny, 

To which I don't give a damn. 

The flowers in the garden are dried out, 

The games are all rugged, 

And the kitchen smells so bad with fungus and rotten food. 

Now you know why the weeds love here, 

They have a huge family,

And there is hardly any room for any pleasant inmates. 

My therapist says, 

Once all these are cleared out, 

I'm going to be okay

And I think so. 


A. C


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tu Koi Aur Hai

The characters of Imtiaz Ali are always difficult to decipher and can only be done if the actors do complete justice to it. And two such celebrated characters of Imtiaz Ali are Ved and Tara of Tamasha . Meeting Ved in Corsica was accidental to Tara. Both of them came there to be alone and enjoy some time away from their busy life. But what destiny had for them was different. But for Tara, what happened in Corsica didn't just stay at Corsica. What attracted Tara towards Ved was his coolness and the quirkiness which ultimately made her fall in love with him and break up with her boyfriend. She continued to pamper the memories at Corsica even without knowing Ved or his name. But meeting Ved which she longed for four years and being his girlfriend was not what Tara wanted. Tara fell in love with the Ved whom she met at Corsica not the Ved at Delhi. But it was all difficult for the Ved who is actually battling bipolar disorder to accept his reality. Ved wanted to live the life that he d...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Call for One More Summer Swim

  Dear Oliver,    Last summer was not only about freshly smelling grass and ripened peaches to me, it became something more than that because of you. Your arrival to help my father taught me lessons for a lifetime. It was you who gave meaning to my summer, to my days and its absurdities. When I first saw you, little did I realise that you are going to unravel the real Elio, an Elio who was so much in love. An Elio who was so confused at the choices of his love and who showed the courage to confront it no matter what. I remember when you whispered to me "Call me by your name and I'll call you by mine", the time when I felt as if the four lettered word Elio pouring out from your mouth is all I wanted to listen to in this entire universe. But sometimes life offers us a different path, away from what we actually want.  I still remember the fun we had at Bergamo, the way you kissed me secretly pressing against the walls, never did I experience that feeling ever again. Bec...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Sale

I have a broken heart and a half- written poem for sale, Worth a stallion. You can see to it that it's best of quality, Preserved from the long battles  And huge armada. I know the market is dull Enough to pay attention To a broken heart and a half- Written poem, But I see curious eyes waiting to Open their money bag, Tell them they can mend the heart, If possible, After all my attempts that turned vain, Mend it not to look mended, Mend it to look like a beating one Perhaps a 3am conversation  And love over wine may work, Or a lullaby to sleep. And complete the poem, With a sour end or bloodshed, For my muses are out on a pleasure trip, Refusing to be back to the world Of melancholy, Condemning my contemplations. As the vicinity became jubilant, Preparing for festivities, There I see him, with a huge money bag. Make the deal with that blue-eyed one, His eyes are sad enough to buy  My goods. Let him have it and tell him what I said. As I leave riding a black stallion ...
Post a Comment
Read more