Magic in hands

The major achievement in life is discovering yourself

I started writing few years ago,
not because I wanted to pursue it,
but to let out the pain and ease myself amidst my haunting thoughts.
Do not show what you really are
Fake it!“, were the sentences people pasted on my face,
’cause apparently hiding the truth was the ‘new cool’
HIDE- ’cause you need friends,
Who is going to befriend me if I cry out my desires and thoughts?
I don’t want to be a crybaby, or a narcissist
I tagged my qualities with the worst words I could find,
so as to only HIDE.
The actions were to fit in,
to squeeze in the line where thousands stood waiting,
to get what others wanted.
Did I want it?”
‘It’ was the missing piece,
the one I thought was the one which others had,
but why was I not happy when ‘It’ landed my hands?
I was getting lost in the maze of my thoughts, when a door emerged between the walls,
so I ran towards it, opened and stepped out,
not thinking for a second,
if this is what ‘It’ is.
If I had,
I would not have surrounded myself with the plethora of magic in hand.

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Counting Sheep

They met again,
he looked the same.
Beautiful,
both from the inside and outside.
His innocent eyes spoke volume,
brown eyes that looked tired
’cause of the never ending pain,
and constant change of the game;
sunshine and cold which toughened him throughout the course

You see, it was difficult for him to be away.
Every night, when the lights went off
and the warden commanded everyone to sleep,
he counted sheep.
He had two options by his side: to wander off his mind in the fields of sheep grazing
or think about his mom and dad.
Former was easier, it didn’t take him much to do

Two years, he counted sheep.
No phone calls, no bedtime stories.
Mom and dad were far away.
No contact to build ’cause it was his worst fate.
they did not have any other option, but to sent him away.
He was a spoiled brat, according to him.
But was he?
Or a neglected child;
who threw tantrums to gain love and attention of his only loved ones.

Rhythm Writing: Hopeless Irregularities

One month ago, I was in my room with a blank screen in front of me, taunting me and my ability to write. Many of the readers of bittersweetturns think that I write good (for which I want to thank all of them, for believing in me and especially for believing themselves).
The point is, even though many think that I write well or they enjoy my creations, at that moment when I was staring at the white screen of my laptop and the screen stared me back with a question mark, nothing mattered. Every cell of my brain screamed silently for words to come off. Sadly nothing came, so I decided not to blog anything that day.

That was the biggest mistake I committed.
Another day trailed behind that ‘one day of not blogging‘, and one more and the count went on, where I was in a hopeless position of not even wanting to open my blog to see the response.
It made me more sad. To avoid the whole ‘not doing what I love’, I decided to distract myself with movies and web series and therefore came the idea of Soul searching, which also failed eventually.
I thought I lost that spark to write, even though I tried.
One of the readers advised to keep a dairy with me, which I did.
But it only motivated me to pen down ideas and not the verses.
I used to sit with my laptop and think about the ideas, but nothing seemed to be satisfactory.
I was not able to figure it out, my movie review thingy didn’t work out, ’cause I felt like I was not good enough, there were complexities and apprehensions, ’cause I felt sometimes,
“why would somebody come visit my blog, it’s not that good”
But I was wrong.
Maybe it was not good enough, but It was special for me. Writing is special for me.
Everytime somebody asked me ‘when are we seeing a new post on your blog’, I used to say ‘soon’, but even I didn’t know when that soon was going to come

I think I got stuck when I started pleasing people, instead of helping them or helping me.
After all I started the blog so as to keep myself motivated and in that process motivate others with whatever motivated me.

Never mind, I am past that phase now, and I am here to tell you that the phase I was in, was not writer’s block, that was me afraid of the failure.

How did I realise that? Well, through rhythm writing, which I am definitely going to tell you guys tomorrow.
I know, I am testing your patience but trust me it helped me, and if you are facing anything similar to what I faced, please let me know, and surely visit again tomorrow to see how Rhythm writing helped me.

Thoughts To Soak

I toooook a long break,
Yes the ‘took’ has 5 o’s, and yes I took a long break.
I know I know, I’ve been saying this for a while,
but it is hard for me to decide.
With god’s grace I have got a job, friends I can rely on.
and finally found love of my life,
or have I?
But still, something is missing.
But what is it?

I lay down thinking,
thinking about that friend who pushed me over the cliff,
not because he hated me,
but for me to feel the wind over my face,
to smash my body over the ocean of my thoughts,

I know I’ve been on and off in this relationship with you,
but you know you are my home,
’cause even after I wander and roam to places,
I come back to you.
You are my escape, but when you get to close, you are a jail.
It’s hard for me to survive my own thoughts,
sometimes I ignore,
but how long can I run from myself

So I let them soak in, deep.
Only the positive ones though,
’cause you are a spectator, viewing the trails of thoughts passing by,
only to turn the light green for the thoughts to get to you,
not to be submerged in the darkness of our own flipped side.

Soul Searching..

I took a break, a long break, mostly soul searching;
in books and movies and web series, whatever I could find to get away from myself,
to indulge in stories, interesting stories, good stories, sad stories, obvious stories.
Now here I am, feeling satisfied, enough to know that I am not alone on this excursion to know myself.
There are hundreds out there.
So, this time, I bring the stories I have seen in the world of cinema, which are close to me, close enough to give a reflection of my inner self.
Every week, there would be poems depicting the stories. They won’t be movie reviews or critic but more than that.

Stay tuned for what’s about to come.