I hear the distant sounds of azaan merging with the temple bells reminding me of my city as I lay down next to him, watching him sleep, eyebrows into a frown, hair all messed up and nose just in the perfect shape. The sky is in its most flawless shade; shades of purple and pink blurred with orange.
This is one of those days when I feel extremely homesick, so I just look up at the sky changing colors, and then I look back at him, with innocence and stillness spread all over his face in contrast with the changing sky.
On such days he calms me with his stability.
I wonder at times, how one person can carry so much of stillness when the whole wide world outside is in a rush, when I am in a rush.
His words make me feel comfortable of my vulnerability and work exactly like my grandparents’ pieces of advise.
His madness at the midnight hour reminds me of my sister and siblings, excited for everything at any point of time.
His eyes seem to be like my father’s eyes, when they glance at mine right before he cracks up in laughter, reminding me of those lazy afternoons at my home’s garden, filled with laughter and flowers.
His smile seems to be like my mother’s smile, when it takes the perfect shape with the right amount of blush on his cheeks, reminding me of happiness and happiness reminds me of home-made rajma chawal.
His smell reminds me of my city, which I have left behind, which I was once lost in.
And then he looks up at me, half asleep still, his voice like a baby’s moan and his eyes wondering what is up with me.
That is when I snuggle up in his chest, bury myself in there and that is when he pulls me closer and puts me back to sleep.
There are days when I feel I’ve come extremely far from home, and on such days,
he reminds me of home, always.
I’m sorry that I actually liked the way I looked for once.
I’m sorry that you don’t see what you’re saying.
I’m sorry that I don’t want to make you feel like you messed up,
Even though you did.
I’m sorry that I can’t explain this to you
Only because those emotions are gone.
I’m sorry that if I feel better now,
I can’t regain those thoughts
Without accidentally showing a smile.
I’m sorry that this is possibly our first rough patch.
I’m sorry that these will probably come
At the worst possible times.
I’m sorry that I’m a better actress than you think
And all my emotions are locked up.
I’m sorry that I’m trying to blame you
For everything that’s just my fault.
I’m sorry that when I’m already down
You feel like letting me fall.
I’m sorry that I’m angry now
Because you know I can’t stay mad forever.
I’m sorry that I’m such a fool
For thinking I could be better.
I’m sorry that I’m wasting my time
Trying to write down lost ideas
While you’re nearby,
Thinking that you ruined my life.
I’m sorry that no matter what
I’m not going to give up on us.
I’m sorry that I’m overreacting
You can leave if you really must.
I’m sorry that I can’t explain anything
Without sounding clingy and aggressive.
I’m sorry that you’re still here
Trying to deal with this mess.
I’m sorry that you’ll never understand,
And I’m sorry that I’m not trying to help.
I wish that you could read my mind,
So I wouldn’t have to write this out.
याद रहोगे पीढ़ियों तक
अपने विचारों से,
याद रहोगे सदियों तक
अपने कामों से
दिया मंत्र हर एक को
देश की खातिर जीने को,
रहें न रहें हम
ये देश रहना चाहिए
ये लोकतंत्र रहना चाहिए।
बने रहोगे युगों युगों तक
देश के युवाओं के लिए
है अश्रु पूरित ये आँखे
तुम्हारे चले जाने से
मगर हो यहीं कहीं
हमारे साथ तुम।
कोटि कोटि नमन है तुमको
तुम्हारे व्यक्तित्व को
तुम्हारे जीवन शैली को।
जलायी थी जो तुमने
क्रांति की ज्वाला
युगों युगों तक
हर भारतीय के दिलों में। विनम्र श्रद्धांजलि🙏 #atalbiharivajpayee#अटलब िहारीबाजपेयी #prideofnation#श ्रधांजलि #homage#poetry#writer#writerscommunity#writersofig#writeraofinstagram
I Am F. A. M. E. will be more of a poetry reading than a typical launch. If you have poems that follow the theme of what I write about, feel free to bring them along and read them out.
If you’re in Colombo, SL please come. It would mean the world to me.
Filmed, narrated and edited by me 🐋