The Thinking Bird


Jolting past the morning sun,

Under the sky, blue as the sea,

Sat the bird, a pelican

Twitching over a tree.

Could it be her nest?

As was told by her maa.

Lost amidst the shadow of zest,

Lucrative enough to see afar.
Mind was in splits, heart worried again,
Engulfed the pelican hastily ,food for its brain.
Atrocities took a toll,
Lethargic ,abandoned soul,
Red as the sun was once,
Envisaged, a morning stroll.
And the dream pierced through,
Down fell the nest,
You know what happens next.
-Divyajeet Singh

Have you ever ?

Have you ever hated yourself for trying to hate someone whom you once loved ?

Have you ever fought with yourself just so you don’t have to fight ?

Have you ever cursed your brain because you were listening to your heart ? 

Have you ever seen everything so as to forget everything is sight ? 

Have you ever thought about the things you used to think ? 

Have you ever found the ship that couldn’t sink ?

Have you ever starred at the wall and not look at the paint? 

Have you ever sinned to become a saint ? 

Have you ever gained from the loss you had cleared ? 

Have you ever thought “if only it weren’t something weird” ?

Have you ever bothered to be distant through the night ?

Have you ever done something wrong to make it right ? 

Have you ever not rhymed while writing a poem? 

Have you ever made a mistake and smile at it ?

Have you ever shed a tear while not crying?

Have you ever been thankful for lying ? 

Have you ever been there ? 

I dont think so….

But again, i dont think much. 

Much is an exaggeration as such. 
                                                –

Twist in the tale

She weeps like a child,A little harsh, a little mild.

The weeping is okay though, 

For a soul so wild,

She can let it flow, 

If only she could hide.

Behind her tears of sorrow,

Two worlds set to collide. 
She laughs like a freak,

A little loud, a little meek.

The laughing is contagious,

And followed by a streak,

Of sniffles , frivolous,

Like a bird and its beak. 

Beneath a laugh so ferocious,

Lay his knees, so weak. 
She ponders like a dream,

A little naive, a little extreme,

The thoughts are far fetched,

And absurd they might seem,

But if a beautiful mind stretched,

Happiness would redeem.

Under her thoughts, are etched,

The signature of his belief. 
She loves like a fire,

Or even a bonfire, who cares,

Not the right time to get stuck,

Not the right time to give a fuck.

Let it be known,

That emotions change, 

Or even if you call it “grown up” ,

People too change. 
Goodbye divyajeet,

You will be missed. 
                             -ayvid

The Wanderer 

Wandering through the past,Amidst the dense blue forrest ,

In search of an eminent outcast,

That would shine with zest.
He pondered deep within,

In search of his light,

That would, to heal, begin,

And destroy his plight.
He lit his lantern up and,

Held it as high as he could.

In the darkness so bland,

Mesmerised, he stood.
The aura shone,

So bright, through the dew,

Leaving the petals alone,

In search of something new.
He finally found his cure,

And found it in due time,

For a soul so pure,

He could sing , he could rhyme.
He reached out for the light,

Capturing the aura in his heart,

Held on to it tight ,

And never extinguished the spark.

-Divyajeet Singh

HAIKU

Haiku represents a japanese form of poetry that is short and independent of any preceding or succeeding work and can relate to any particular moment in the poet’s life. It contains a total of 17 syllables with a pattern of 5-7-5 syllables in each line. Enjoy !

1. The brook was flowing,

Into the darkened woods as,

It was there no more.

2. I could have bled it,

But the pain was mildly sure,

Of its existence.

3. The smile on your face,

Could shadow the scars beneath,

But the eyes gave up.

4. This world is weird ,

And so are the people here,

why do you make sense?

5. Run from life or chase,

There is no turning back now,

You’ve been born again.
-ayvid 

The second side

He was peacefully sitting at the local coffee shop and admiring the beauty around him as he took a puff from his cigarette. He sent the smoke into the air and watched it float into oblivion. The noises around him did not bother him, nor did the discomfort of the people who seemed to mind their own business. The dog at the opposite end of the road was staring intently into his eyes as he took another puff and merely ignored it too. A soft voice behind him echoed as he heard, ” why do you do this?” 

He thought it was just another statement until he heard it again, ” I’m talking to you, smoker fella, why do you do it?” 

Nope, he thought, it was definitely for him. He turned around and saw a beautiful girl staring at him with her deep blue eyes. 

“It’s just something I do. Why do you bother?”, he said, instantly recognising the hollowness of his words.

“Never mind. Can I have your phone, please?” , she said as if her previous question was long gone. 

He hesitated for a bit, but then took out his phone and passed it to her, but not before putting in his password. He had nothing to hide. She searched through the photo gallery as if it was her phone and found the pic of an elderly couple in their fifties smiling down at the camera. “Are these your parents?” , she asked as she showed him the photo. Still fascinated by the informality, the boy managed to utter, “y-yes. Why?” 

“Next time you smoke, just think about the pain they must feel if they knew about your habit.”, she said in a bossy tone as if she had made someone learn the lesson of his life.

He smiled at the naiveness of the girl and without another word put the phone back in his pocket. She was about to leave as she heard a deepened voice call out, ” I smoke for them.” 

She was stunned for a few seconds and the next line came out almost instantaneously, “They are the reason I am here in this world. I love them very much. But every time I think about the future where they won’t be around any longer, I can feel an ache in my heart which is more than any stroke can ever cause. I know I am weak, but they have made me stronger. I just smoke so that some day I won’t have to bear the pain of them leaving me before I do. And so I do what I have to do. I know I’m selfish, but that’s how God made me and I respect his decision.” 

She had tears in her eyes, for this was not at all what she had expected. Her heart told her to go on with the conversation, but her mind was not ready for that. She payed the bill and stormed out with tears gushing and said, ” I hope they forgive you.” 
Disclaimer : smokers do not understand the harm of a cigarette until its too late. But the ones judging them are the ones who instigate them to pursue. All they need is a little emotional support to quit, and you can discover a gem inside. Like any other, this story too has a second side. It’s time we all recognise that.

The Story

Walking through the alley , he did,Grabbing tightly the locket of his,

Ponder over the deeds he hid,

His first move, his last kiss.
Not all were true, nor all did he mean,

But one that mattered was pure as his soul,

For the beauty magnified the word ‘serene’,

Still, so far, for his mediocre role.
This story i tell, i tell not to console,

But to remind the world that there is,

One for each, and only one whole ,

Not all we get, not all we miss.
He had his life, not him , it was,

Little did he know the future ahead,

He would wake up as happy as his loving lass,

And happier in dreams would go to bed.
The nights were longer, the days were short,

He wished it was the other way round.

As days could make him meet his thought,

And nights , a sleepless hound.
Like the day, the days lived short,

The reason not quite known to all,

Turning the dreams into nightmares , he then,

Would like an apple would curb and fall.
Ended his time, and ended his days,

To keep his perfection of the purest form,

With him. And now his mind frays,

Whispering throughout the walls of his dorm.
What happened was bad, worse was to come,

What use were his words now ?

But good things were written, and better to become,

The only question was “How ?”
Time doesn’t heal, the wound only dries,

But stays painful beneath.

For only the most awful of cries,

Could make him stay and breathe.
Breathe, he did, and stronger he became,

His lesson was reaching its end.

He shredded the burden, he then thought was lame,

And emerged a loving friend.
      

   -divyajeet singh