thoughts too risky to voice

hii most of the time I just tend to write for the sake of my thoughts as they start to overflow but sometimes writing writes itself:)

[mournfulroses-00]

paya toh tujhe ek boond sa bhi nahi aur khone ka darr samundar sa hai

[resqectable]

“Sometimes you have to forget what you feel, and remember what you deserve.”

— Unknown

[samaawrites]

You came with an alliance

You left shattering allegiances

You wanted to say an awful lot but you said none,

I heard em all.

Heard em all from where it pierced through your heart to heard em all where it bleed through your mind.

I heard em all.

And here I was rambling

And yet

You heard nothing.

-Samaa

[samaawrites]

Suddenly,

I could hear My Papa yelling through my dream.

I opened my eyes, there he was saying how I would never get to be in heaven if I woke up late on the day of pahatpadwa at diwali.

I rubbed my eyes, and my gaze went straight to work- searching for something. When I happened to glance over, my harmonium was sitting on my study table, covered in a crocheted net cloth with printed flowers.

I quickly rose out of bed, moved my harmonium onto my bed, took off the cloth, tuned it, and then performed a lovely bandhish (rendition) of Raag Yaman with my hands entangled in the notes.

It's been a while since I've ever picked up my harmonium, and even longer since I started playing it.

The emotion is incomprehensible.

The melding of dhun, aakar, and swar—all inexplicable.

My hope is to believe I will have more opportunities to spend time in heaven.

As those were the sounds of heaven.

-Samaa

[samaawrites]

In a world of opinions,

Young and mild,

A kid soaks in all of society's wild,

Made a new self,

Like a secret he chose,

He found a mould to be,

Gave birth to a species ,

Society's decree.

A unique identity,

A novel creation,

Shaped by language,

Influenced by societal perspectives,

His heart is a paper,

Society being the artist,

As it paints,

The kid is under restraint.

Someday in dark,

A truth will conceal,

A made up story full of lies,

Slowly but surely reveal.

Not a play scripted by another's pen,

Life is a canvas,

You are the character,

Just say when.

Against the crowd,

With your own yen,

Because,

In your own world,

Again and again.

I am the kid

I am the mother

I am the creator

Like no other

socially speaking,

We are not the choices we make,

Rather the consequences it with-holds

-Samaa

[samaawrites]

Growing old?

But when you actually grow old,

Like old old,

How does it feel?

Are you with the love of your life?

And have 2 kids who are not kids anymore

Perhaps 3,4 who knows!

Are you residing in the exact same home that, when you were much too young, you assured your loved one you would purchase?

Or did you find a better one?.

Ultimately,

It all comes down to growing old with that one special, someone you cherish beyond measure.

This identical image does indeed linger in my heart when I consider the future.

But what if something entirely different occurs

You might ask

Perhaps sad, something that separates us long before our facial wrinkles appear.

Then ?

If such sorrow should ever unfurl,

Don't you worry my darling,

I'm sure I must've already lived those moments when I fell in love with you for the very first time.

- Samaa

[samaawrites]

It's hard to live with the idea of him .

[samaawrites]

One day I wish to hold you tight and cry

And appreciate the love you have

For me

the most terrifying feeling is knowing that I can't love you the same way.

[samaawrites]

I don't like a clear sky; it makes me feel ordinary. Have you ever seen a rocket soaring through the sky? It might sound strange, but it reminds me of scars. Not just any scar, but one that moves along with our lives. It becomes indistinct, much like our... this isn't really about the sky.

Although Just a plain sky with a scar holding its own beauty.

[samaawrites]

Heading back to my hometown, I've packed light, with only the essentials: clothes and Murakami's "Norwegian Wood." Despite feeling like I've been reading it forever, I still haven't finished it.

As I journey home, I lose myself in the melody of "Do I Wanna Know?" on repeat, imagining myself performing it, one day I'll personify the main character. Life reflects this recurrent sense of incompleteness; like this book, half read. I have lots to do, dreams to go after but somehow I find it challenging to move forward past the initial thrill/excitement.Heading back to my hometown, I've packed light, with only the essentials: clothes and Murakami's "Norwegian Wood." Despite feeling like I've been reading it forever, I still haven't finished it.

As I journey home, I lose myself in the melody of "Do I Wanna Know?" on repeat, imagining myself performing it, one day I'll personify the main character. Life reflects this recurrent sense of incompleteness; like this book, half read. I have lots to do, dreams to go after but somehow I find it challenging to move forward past the initial thrill/excitement.

And in the meantime, even though having a lot on my plate beforehand, I'm heading home.

In the midst of the chaos of Mumbai, to me, home is more like a temporary escape than a calm getaway. I dream that one day going home will bring me peace instead of just trying to run away from the harsh and unacceptable reality. Maybe, someday soon, that'll happen, not just a refuge but a true peace.

-Samaa

[samaawrites]

This is not how things work, you don't get to decide when to talk to me and when not,

You don't get to mindlessly text me one day and

Ghost me completely the other,

You were the one who made a mistake,

And I was the one who forgave you,

Even though I knew I should've let you go.

Is this why you apologized?

So that you won't have to live with guilt anymore?

Is this so ?

Because if you truly were something more than a brutal person ,

You would've never even thought of hurting me again

Don't give me second thoughts,

That you were better gone.

Another shot is this what you call it.

-Samaa

[samaawrites]

There's a hole in the curtains of my room

The sun never missed a chance to touch my soul.

[samaawrites]

Letting people go,

You did,

Me too unfortunately yes,

But how you're always so consistent with your decision of letting go,

Don't you miss them?

I however have a different way,

Call it a weakness or stupidity

I never blocked you,

Altho I did delete our photos and texts ,

In order to forget you and start something fresh and new.

I'm a little cranky ik,

But I was sad ,mad,angry

And yes, you apologized ones,twice ,thousands of times,

And tbh at a point I even imagined your solemn eyes.

But this is where the problem lies,

You apologized,only till I was still feeling those things,

Not after, after I was so called in a cool state.

Why I never blocked you again?

Is the reason I believed you somehow will stay.

Two words , simple as hi,

All it takes and I'll dump my past away,

Not a single part of stained heart .

And Just like Rafi sir said "ये अपना दिल तू आवारा ना जाणे किसपे आयेगा" as much truth it withholds,

I do not blame you for your feelings.

So there's a open door,

maybe something more,

Or less who knows.

No didn't ask you for staying in ,you can if you want to ,most welcome

But the least is you can always be a guest too,

Pay a visit just to show me your face,

And when I say I deleted everything of yours,

I have backed it up on my drive,

JUST IN CASE.

-Samaa

[samaawrites]

They say ,"We've got only one life

Tell them you love them."

So what we have only one life?

I don't want to risk it all and have none.

But then again,

What if I have it all.

ALL OF IT.

-Samaa