Some days

Some days, i'm just done. Done with the craziness, the lies, the insensitivity, the expectations, the everything.

And those days are almost always like 'some days' . i want to move on. Anything anyone says is like a falsetto, only less musical. A cacophony. A phoney. Who phoney? Me phoney? Me phoney. i feel like a phoney. Every word i say, i write, i don't feel the words. What i want to say, there are no words. What i feel, too basic for any word.

All false. Every word i read, it feels like an exaggeration, at effort, to look different, to catch the eye. It catches and then loses. No feeling. Every other person is trying to be. A wannabe. Please stop proving to me who you are. I seriously do not care. So do not try to impress me. I don't want to be impressed. I catch your false notes too easily. Do not shroud yourself in mystery. Please don't make the effort. I will not make an effort to disbelieve, Be yourself. I shall believe.

I'm sure there is nothing wrong with people. It is me. I have had my fill. I'm done. Can i become a bairaagi? A hermit? I'm too restless. Too much of myself. too much into myself to fit into that role. Where would i go anyways? No one and nothing will make me happy. Because i'm not happy with myself. This isn't what i am. This isn't what i want.

i live in between to extremes. Hopelessness, utter disillusionment with falsehood, with lies, with manipulation . And then some hope.

Today, i'm searching for some hope again. Hope i find some hope. 

Noise of Silence

ख़ामोशी की आवाज़  सुनाई नहीं देती अब 

तो ख़ामोशी से डर लगता है 

I can't hear silence anymore

in the silence of early morning

i hear the sound of AC running

a child crying in the house below

a sound of a speeding truck

the hoot of the train from the station

the few birds having a conversation

i think about their woes

i hear the shrill of the whistle

the shouts and screams of people

the chaos of the city in day and night

and when i don't want to hear this anymore

i hear the evil look on a face

i hear the jealousies

i hear the scheming and planning behind the shrouded eyes

i also hear the pain of the scorned

i hear the agony in the distant call

i hear the hiding the pain in a smile

i hear the manipulation in the cry

i hear i hear i hear

i want the sound of silence

but even when every noise dies down

only a soft snore on my bed

the voices in mind wake up

i hear the past

i hear the future

no , i don't hear silence anymore.