Monthly Archives

5 Articles
Paradox

Paradox

by Aditya Mankad 0 Comments

I swayed between the right and wrong,
Replaying the same old song,
“Take me to the start again,
Undo the cause of all that pain”
And as I pushed my way up,
I learned I was at the bottom of the top.
I bit my tongue and pinched my skin,
To know if this version was reality’s kin.
I do not fear the death as you do,
But that’s not news to you.
You have been watching me all along,
Like a tiny kite dancing in the fire-storm.
I grow everyday like a phoenix does,
Rising and withering in the dust.
And my heart is ripping itself to shreds,
Each piece beating on itself.
I ask you all but this,
free me from the haunted lights,
Give me all but just a night,
A night that gave the moon to fox;
Same way put in that box.
Put me or I swear I will be,
A dead man breathing paradox.

Image source here
Traveler

Traveler

We are the travelers of time,
Traveling from where the future lies.
We are the children of sun and moon,
Of songs of fire with silent tunes.
We travel therefore we are,
We are the nonchalance of tides,
Drowning in love but keeping each other alive.
As we fly past the shores of sea,
We create infinity wild and free.
Like notes of a great melody,
We might not make sense but can surely be;
Be those who move mountains and dunes,
And be like god’s own tune.
As I watch my eyes turn heavy,
and seagulls crying out their heart,
I wish to myself to take us to the start.
But until then I put my hand in yours,
I do it often or always for all I remember,
It feels like the medicine that cures.
And as we sleep under the starry skies,
I couldn’t help but deny,
We have been death’s own unborn child,
And let us live before we die.
Let the universe be our tent,
And let’s promise to make a huge dent.
Dent which says we were here.
Here now, here forever.
Let us be travellers,
Let us be gods,
Let us be humans,
Let’s challenge the odds.
And hope that each challenge is worthy as it claims,
And hope that it touches our souls and makes a place.
Let us be everything and nothing at all,
Let us be the days, let us be the nights,
And even if this doesn’t make sense;
Let it be,
Let’s be zeroes and infinite.

Riddler

I blinked my eyes like I always do,
And focused them on you,
as I tried to see through.
I re-read this in my mind again,
Thinking hard about it but all in vain,
And I see this images in my head play a mime,
Strangely enough all this; knitting into poetry with a rhyme.
But as I gulp down a lump of void,
I couldn’t help but ignore how you avoid.
I was always the laugh of the town,
Rising up each time I was down,
But this time, it’s difficult to stand,
Or at least without a helping hand.
And as I watch them bark,
I remain nothing but humour that’s dark.
They say I am weird and so do you,
I ask myself a riddle,
which has the word “fiddle”.
“What’s the word that rhymes with wife,
What’s that capable of taking a life?
I will use that on you,
To take what’s already due”
No?
Didn’t get what I said,
Oh poor little you,
I wonder what’s inside your funny little brain.
Will you be kind enough to spell it out?
Kill me but you already have; If I am in no doubt.
You are going to end your terror,
And I will live to tell the tales of my horror.
Oh no still didn’t get it did you?
Ah I will spell it out but again in a riddle,
As easy as a song of a fiddle,
Read the firsts from where I wondered,
And read till you gasp out fires and thunder.

Did you get the riddle?
Oh come on!!

Read the firsts from where I wondered, 
- Last 10th line!! and read out the first words ;)
Silence

Silence

I stood there in the gloomy night,
Searching for the silhouettes of light.
Closed my eyes as I gulped dismay,
Only to find my heart beat in an awkward way.
It did that once before,
A long time ago.
When a girl had passed by dressed in yellow.
Little did I know that she would turn out this way,
Be a part of life,
And then life itself.
But here I am standing all alone,
Feeling the void of my hand;
Sweat on the skin dripping where I stand.
Even the void misses your,
And so does my bones,
You ignited them once upon a time,
And now they are like coals of a mine.
Now I know how the wolf feels,
Howling; yearning the moon as it stands still.
Crying for it will all it can,
Dying everyday and getting born,
Yet losing a part of itself with each respawn.
And here I sit in the first row,
Losing my identity with each blow.
Crumbling myself into pieces,
As I try to swim against the flow.
And in the back of my mind,
A thought runs through,
“Kill me now so that I can be with you”.
But it has indeed taught me some golden lessons,
For each life made,
There’s always a song.
And mine had too until;
Until I lost you.
And as I collect pieces of mine,
Which breaks into million more with each decline,
It slits my skin like shards of mirror,
And in each of the piece I see an image clear,
A soul alone, a body in fear.
As the songs in my life stopped,
I learned,
It indeed hadn’t.
It just left me numb,
And filled me with dark,
But that dark now is peace to me,
Dreams have become real than reality.
Scars have become a habit,
The swim against the flow,
Has indeed taught me;
You don’t die until death tells you so,
The wolf will never get to feel the moon’s glow,
And as I listen to the void I learned,
Even silence is a genre.

Time Traveler

Time Traveler

I sat on the sands of time,
Watched the past go as if it wasn’t mine.
And I waited for eternity; just to see,
See the future where you’d be with me.
I heard the songs of dreams as I waited,
And glued my eyes to the horizon as I fall asleep,
But woke up just in time as I had promises to keep.
I was touched by love,
And it burned me hard,
Made me invincible and left me scarred.
And now I won’t fail to mention,
How I still miss you; event in the Nth dimension,
And I realize it now,
How it has always been,
Me falling for you;
You being the red for my blue.
Me feeling the pain;
All seems as right as rain.
I realize it now,
as it makes my stomach churn;
as I long for another scar,
Another burn.
And I hope that there comes a day,
When,
leaves turn brown,
the sun shines,
and the sky is all blue,
I would be right where I belong,
With you.
But until then,
I must do what I do best,
Go down the road,
Feared by the rest.
The path itself is the parchment where we wrote,
Wrote the stories of us both.
And our footprints became the ink,
Which can even make the stars sink.
What shall I do now?
Should I wait?
Should I go and tell our tale
and let my promises fail?
Or shall I wait and wait,
and wait,
And keep faith the fate;
Let the world forget who we are,
Wait till you come to give me another scar.

Background of the image from here.

Poetry and Blogs