I suicide

This day I willingly take my life, into my own hands but with a knife.
Awkward and peculiar as it is, amateur I was at gulping such strife.

I always love sewing these rhymes, letting words dance to the unheard chimes.
I do it again as I fall to my knees, joyous it is when my heart and body mimes.

I have heard a lot about this god's boon, one which was too precious to ruin.
Money is but an ornament they said, but it was the sun that shone in the noon.

Of love was sang the sweetest song, but now I see it was all wrong.
It is a desire of a drunken head, dried in weed and hit with a gong.

A life seems bright in a shining name, so does your pride in a sparkling fame.
Neither of them contented me, but brimmed my empty heart with a shame.

I tried weighing on my parents and friends, but all they bore were the present day trends.
My heart was thus destined to be, tormented by every luxury it lends.

So I end my poem of death, for it looks good but gives no joy.
I end it in a happy breathe, atlast I see I am but a God's toy.

Dream that night

The blue moon bloomed larger than ever, full and bright, radiantly gleaming over the water. The water fluttered calmly to the gentle breeze blowing by, reflecting the moon as if it twinkled and glowed in the deep waters far away from the place. The breeze got cooler and the moon stood steady, as the clouds gathered about the moon, yet not touching as if they knew that today, god blessed the moon to look its prettiest. The white clouds puffed silently setting a royal chair for the moon as he looked over what was to happen.

On such waters, calm and serene, in a far off land was planted teak deep, supporting the teak deck that stood in the waters. The deck was a square, large enough to roam around. A few fish giggled around it as they watched far away, against the moon, two dolphins, jumping and dancing in the shadow, in a romantic rhythm and the fish tried to imitate them about the deck. Above it stood a table, hardly waist high, and not wider than a hand, covered fully in the royal blue velvet down till its feet were not visible. Two chairs stood on either sides of the moon as the moon glazed amongst them right to fall at the feet of a door.

The door stood closed, closing a dark world behind it, full of jealousy and treacherous smiles. On the other side stood this dream, the birds chirped nightly in a distance unknown, and the moon did not dared to move, as if time there was unknown. Calm black shoes bore the weight of him, his ears tweaked waiting for the knock on the door, and his eyes viewed into its emptiness. The rose fragrance he held behind him folding his right hand to his back already romanticized the air as his frown was calmed by the sea breeze.

On the other side, in a world dark, dark as black, stood a girl, knowingly on her heels, clad in a fresh green skirt. The chilled air of the cold hearts blew over her back and her arms driving a chill, a shiver of fear, as she raised her hand half clenched into a fist, to feel and knock. Her skirt below her knees rushed towards the door trying to feel it, and knock it, as if she knew the world on the other side, was just ready to welcome her. The open hair embraced her ears from the false laughter and the darkness secluded her eyes from the mean smiles.

Both waited.

Reading the dread

Fear the fear, and the fear will be fearful forever.

Those moments of silence have always delighted him. It was 2 hours past midnight. The calm clouds were now swiftly moving across a dimly lit sky accompanied by the cool breeze that blew north east. The breeze was quiet, not even whistling as it cornered along the old stone walls. He stood proudly in the corridor feeling the breeze lull his tiresome soul into sleep. Nothing could be heard around, except the dog nails crunching the ground as it passed to reach its own destination. The light was somehow irritating his drooping eyes. And snap! It was a power cut. He got accustomed to this culture, but, this time, somehow, he felt the chill.

The lights were all blown out, and the crescent moon, he first noticed then, was trying to peep through the white clouds, over a sheer translucence. He was thirsty, thanks to the oils and spices of India. The water tap is a furlong away and quenching his thirst would mean walking into the corridor where its walls would engulf it in darkness. It has been only 6 months and yet, he would not be afraid to make his way through it all. He walked. As he came by the long room opening in the corridor to his right, nothing changed. Nothing did change indeed, except for the shiver that struck him. Assuring himself of his knowledge, he trudged.

The tap could not be seen, yet knowing his exact location he moved. He reached there, saying to himself that darkness is no weapon against him. As he turned the tap, the water drops began to trickle and then to flow, striking the steel sink down in a clinking rhythm. He bent down arching his hand and letting the water wash his hand off, and then sipped it. He realized the stillness around him as he heard the water drown into him jumping over his gulps. The world around seemed to get gloomier even as the moon tried to shower his radiance through the clear sky. His thirst died out and he stood and turned back, back into the pitch black darkness.

He then realized his loneliness. He wanted to run, but his worn out slippers seemed a ton heavier. He wanted to scream to light up, but the words would not run in the box. His heart at as peace as it always was, pouring into him the determination to walk, prompted him to walk. So he did back, the corridor echoing with the rustling of leaves. He knew the reason he did not like it, it was dark and darkness in evil. He did not fear it. Mustering the courage, he reached back and was drawing patterns unknown in the sky; making stars his dots on his paint board.

The lights lit again as a satisfactory smile sagged his lips. He learnt his lessons, that people fear the unknown.