Veil of Surroundings

Across the expanse of unfamiliar shores, where the ocean’s whispers barely reach, there lies a quiet burden—a solitude carried by those whose hearts beat to the rhythm of an unseen song. It is not a burden of choice, but a silent inheritance, a gift that comes with a profound ache. To perceive the world in all its depth, to feel the weight of every wave, every breeze, is to walk a path few can follow. In this new place, surrounded by faces that seem so far away, the heart yearns—not just for company, but for a connection that touches the soul.

The world speaks in simple tongues, where words fail to capture the full spectrum of what lies beneath. Conversations, once filled with promise, now drift away like forgotten echoes, leaving only the cold shadow of distance. It is not pride that keeps one apart, but the depth of feeling that others cannot fathom. Thoughts swirl like unspoken secrets, woven into a tapestry only the heart can see, yet no one else can understand.

Beyond this solitude lies another weight—the pull of a heart too willing to give. Altruism, that purest form of love, becomes a quiet source of pain when it is met with misunderstanding, when the hand that offers is met with doubt. The soul, eager to lift others, finds itself worn and weary, its light dimming in the face of a world that cannot grasp the depth of its giving. The act of caring becomes a solitary voyage, as the heart reaches out only to find the distance too vast, the gap too wide to bridge.

This solitude, this endless search for understanding, is not born of arrogance, but of a divide so profound that it separates even the most kindred souls. The heart longs not for recognition, but for a simple truth—a place to belong, a voice that resonates with its own. Yet, such a connection remains elusive, a distant shore that can never be reached. And so, the journey continues, a path where the weight of feeling and the ache of giving shape every step, leaving the heart adrift in a world that remains both distant and close, always searching, always longing for a touch that remains just out of reach.

Confinement

Unseen Embrace for someone yet to be seen

Among all the writings I've penned for you,

I've tried, time and again, to say

How deeply I love you.

Yet, I find myself at a loss,

For my love for you does not fit

Within the confines of these lines.

It has been impossible

To encapsulate, in any way,

Images that could convey

The deep river of longing

I carry within my eyes.

Do not be alarmed!

What is visible is only a fragment,

The unseen sky is vast.

There is so much that remains unseen,

So much that cannot be seen.

Within these unseen,

Unwordable,

Invisible emotions,

Lies my love for you.

Water leaves no mark on trees,

Yet it resides within, as life itself,

Silently.

This, too, is a way to love.

#shikhar

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#LiteraryLove

It feels Good!

When fever ascends, a peculiar state prevails. I lie on the bed, feeling as if I am reclining on the softest bed in the world. Where I lie, the entire expanse is utterly plush, comforting, and joyous. Yet, around me, on the same bed, some thorns have emerged. They are advancing toward me rapidly, but are unable to reach me. I remain unperturbed. Half of my attention is centered on the luxurious bed providing comfort, while the other half gazes at those thorns. There is no aversion, no fear, just an observation that they are attempting to approach me.

The fever gradually intensifies, climbing to my head. My eyes close. Now, it feels as if I am lying in some vast ocean. Its water is warm but not burning, a gentle warmth akin to the sunlight in winter. My body is calm, relaxed. The warm water of the ocean has permeated my body, creating a gentle tremor within, yet there is no restlessness. Eyes closed, my body seems to dissolve.

After a while, a profound weariness sets in. In the midst of the intense fever, I move my body slightly, emitting a groan. I open my eyes lightly and see a CFL bulb flickering. Unsure if it's dawn or dusk, the CFL flickers for twenty-four hours. I close my eyes again, and my body, once again, begins to dissolve into relaxation.

I ponder: Am I alive? What does it mean to be alive? Is something taking birth within me? Are my breaths mingling with the air? Does my personality affect anyone? What is my significance? I have no clue about the extent of light or darkness; why do I exist?

Yet, these questions do not disturb me; I contemplate them with a serene mind.

Two days later, the fever subsides, and I feel a lightness. Until now, it seemed as if I was carrying someone else's burden on my shoulders. That burden lifts. Rising from the soft bed, I place my feet on the cool ground, which provides tranquility. Removing the curtain and stepping outside, I witness brightness; the sunlight is vibrant. I take a deep breath, and the outside air merges with my breath.

I am content. It feels like there is still some life left within me. I am alive. The impact of my existence is positive.

Today, again, it feels good, just like that.

Recently, I overcame the fever of love. I was lying still, with closed eyes, and something was merging within.

Today, life is felt again, light and very light.

It feels good.

Wonders of Wait !

 Infinite Longing

Amidst the tranquil night's embrace, when stillness blankets the world tenderly, my heart seeks solace in the haunting tunes of the 2020s. In the darkness, you emerge like a gentle phantom, your luminous grin, once my sunlit world, now a poignant memory etched within me. Your playful gestures, once familiar and close, now dance before me like fragments of a distant reverie, evoking laughter that intertwines with tears.

In these moments of quiet reflection, my heart yearns, wondering if the cosmos ever whispers our names together. Do you, too, wander through the corridors of memories, retracing the steps of our shared journey? Does the ghost of our love linger within you, or has time dispersed its essence to the winds?

The memories we crafted together are like delicate threads weaving through the fabric of my being, their warmth and tenderness a striking contrast to the chill of the present. Yet, destiny has led us on separate paths, and our once united hearts now drift apart.

In the shadows of hope and fate, I hold onto the fragile chance that the universe, with its infinite wisdom, will conspire to reunite us once again. Perhaps, on a day blessed by celestial harmony, as the sun rises with newfound brilliance, the melody of my phone's ring will quiver with anticipation, and your voice will reach my ears, uttering those simple, enchanting words, "Hello Shikhar."

Until that destined encounter unfolds, I treasure these bittersweet memories like precious gems. They stand as a testament to the beauty of what we once shared, casting a soft glow upon the contours of my heart. Amid life's unpredictable symphony, I'll carry this treasure, a beacon of love enduring through the darkest nights, guiding me towards an uncertain future, where possibilities abound.

Nameless Love

Nameless Love : Unveiled in Words

You are  beyond the ocean, while I am on this shore, merely glimpsing the infinite. From where the fragrance emanates, touching the strands of your hair on your shoulder as they sway with the passing breeze, transforming in the waves. I sit here, gathering you in these small writings, sometimes raising questions that arise from poems. I observe silently and move forward with a smile. These writings and poems seem purposeless, written without any basis or foundation, just like everything being baseless. Yet, you peek through every word, nameless and completely anonymous. However, gauging beauty becomes remarkably easy, just as one can sense the immense beauty within the Taj Mahal without seeing what lies inside its outer walls.

A phase of assumptions begins to circulate among the people around, even among those who know both of us. But searching for such pure relationships with such impure eyes, regarding love, is not as easy for them. I create a maze with intricate words, which anyone can read, but understanding them requires spending a lifetime. Yes, I am speaking of the same time that you and I have spent together in a few moments.

By the way, someday send a paper boat with your name from that corner of the ocean. If it reaches me, I will ignite your name. Along with my name, yes, with the same false name by which people know me.

I have never said that I love you, neither to people nor through these poems and writings. However, I have heard people saying that "I am in love"...!

Shikhar

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#love

Newcomer (न्यूकमर)

 याद है क्लास का वो लड़का, जो क्लास टाइम, स्पेशल असेंबली के वक्त, एक्जामटाइम और कल्चरल एक्टिविटीज के वक्त तो हमेशा भीड़ से घिरा, पर लंच करते, PT पीरियड में, फ्री पीरियड में, टीमवर्क में हमेशा अकेला रहा। जब साथ में सब खाते खेलते थे तब वो साइड बेंच पर बैठकर खिड़की देखते हुए, हाथ में जूनियर स्कूल में जेमिनी, हाईस्कूल में titan और प्लस 2 में राडो की अपनी घड़ी देखता रहता था, घड़ी इसलिए क्योंकि वक्त बहुत जरूरी है, पर जब दोस्त नहीं रुकते ,तो एक घड़ी कितने दिन रुकेगी। खाना खाने के बाद वो एक एसे लड़के से जो लंच टाइम में बिलकुल उसके जैसा रहता था उससे सैनिटाइजर मांग कर हाथ धुल लेता था। वाशरूम में पता नही कोन उसका चस्मा छीन ले या फिर सबके सामने किसी की गर्लफ्रेंड से बात करने की वजह से उसे गंदे तरीके से तंग करने लगे, इसीलिए सैनिटाइजर। सोचो कैसा लगता होगा हमउम्र बच्चों से भरी जगह में एसे रहना, फिर भी उसकी अटेंडेंस 95 पर्सेंट से ऊपर रहती थी, उसे पसंद जो थीं क्लास की खिड़कियां जिन्हे वो देखता था और assemblies जब सब उसे देखते थे। दर्जन भर स्कूल कॉलेज बदलेगा तो टीचर्स के लिए भले बाकी बच्चों की ही तरह या उनसे बेहतर रहे, पर क्लासमेट्स के लिए तो न्यूकमर ही रहेगा।

तुम्हे तो बस याद ही होगा वो लड़का। मुझसे तो दिन रात, सोते जागते , पढ़ते खेलते वो बातें करता है। मेरे लेख वही लिखता है। और एक लड़की है, जिससे वो बातें करता है।

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