bubble wrap


I feel so unbelievably lucky. Thank you to everyone who helped me on my way - the way to semblance of surety - there still are days when things feel oft kilter - too many things happened, as they are wont to - such is life, right? 

You jump head first and then you negotiate the waves, the crests and the trough, you encounter mermaids and siren songs, you hit walls and mountains too - but you move them, around, step by baby step and you arrive... 

arrive where you are meant to be - eventually... 

and then there are quiet days like these where you find yourself on the couch still unchanged from the day's dust - with a cup of tea and laptop, amidst the ringing-silence of the apartment - where the wall to wall windows look over crescent chalky moon silently competing with skyscrapers with light shows  - the moon still wins by the way...

and you make video calls to friends and family hear the warm voices rooting for you and look at loving familiar faces sat in places you called home and with a small little bittersweet pang, 
you feel... unbelievably lucky, with more on the way.. and take a deep breath and smile...

smile, because the new innings have begun... exactly when they were meant to... 

via web

and as i look up and ahead ... from magical stuck-in-the-ribs goodbyes 
to exhausted work days; it's a starlight of fresh start. and yes, more on the way...
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Copyright © Neerja Yadav

Spoken Thusly


“I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, 
will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.” 

― Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra 


WORK IN PROGRESS

Believe

i began this post a while ago and then abandoned it... just because he walked in, looked at me... couldn't decide to be upset or elated.. wished me birthday, held me close... asked me if i was fine... and then left again... the honey brown eyes... saying exactly opposite of what the words were... 

and i went back to do what i do best... pick up the 100th book and read... obsessively 

 "The best moments in reading are when you come across something - a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things - which you had thought special and particular to you. And now, here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out, and taken yours" ~ History Boys

And just like that moments from years, moments from the year old heartbreak and moments from getting back together, crash and collide ... intertwine and we look at each other and smile.. and it's enough, because we are friends first...

the fights don't matter, the walking away doesn't matter either, the love story keeps re-writing itself and we configure ourselves with the narrative

yes, we were in and out of this sine wave called - love - and yes, we almost lost each other to this static called ego ... and yet, the thread that seems fragile ... like a flutter of life, is not... just hunger or something deeper?



the before and after looks like a continuity doesn't it? Amen!



Shall sleep now... after almost a year




Copyright © Neerja Yadav

entheogen


veils gliding off the blooms
pulsating hearts of calyxes

jingling millions of flickering whites
stippled on the moonless nights

eyes dripping dream
grins dipped in cream
miles melting away
yet the chasm…

pinch of psychedelic
sculpted into a lil relic

a relic of love
a relic for life…

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

Bliss is an Art - Perfected by Practice


The digits on the cell-phone clock contain a rhythm of seconds in steps and I can feel tiredness seep into my pores like a rising tide. My body sinks into the faded off-white bed sheet, tiredness making my legs at once jumpy and leaden. 


As I snuggle back in the dim lit silence. I watch the digits choreographed in block steps moving forward and listen to dawn gathering. And, watch the white haze on the windows. 

I can feel myself out there somewhere at the peripheries of things, like a jellyfish that is present only in its own pulsing.

The staccato episodes of life that's me - keep panning in and out… there was, me in them and there was me, outside them. A non-judgmental viewer. A viewer who was inevitably taught this:  growth happens when the moments are bitter and slow, when night happens early at the edges of my soul. When breathing keeps getting interrupted claustrophobic thoughts.

And then this happens:  morning comes again. Bright and Sunny!





In my core I have resilience. In me there is a swift restorative sap that tells me again and again to have faith, trust self. Trust intent. The power of true desire. The walk towards 'the north star'

I see myself lately in a different light and recognising this feels a bit like finding a Polaroid shots of me in a shoebox and being unable to place the context or the time in which it was taken.

I have things to work at, in this new inning. Somehow I’ll make it through. 

From one day to next with grace. 

I’ll sip good chai, and make good food and work at being a good mother, a brilliant professional and do justice to all these titles. 

I’ll read poems that fill me up and write more. 

And I’ll wait… till the new me is recreated… and woven into the, me-now. 

A holistic me!

Till then I’ll breathe in the warmth of my son and my dreams... where the difference between being and being together fades.

Happy Happy Birthday, Nee! 


Copyright © Neerja Yadav

defining diffusivity


i sit on the window sill
and gaze out into the night
melting into that distant no-sight
the moon bursts out 

from behind the tattered clouds

Once there was shock
Once there was pain

Now its just nicotine
Now its just rain

Have been soaking in for so long
Now, a point
Where, it can hurt
No more
No more fire blazing
No more comets
tail shimmering
A torn leaf
A damp firewood

Esoteric helplessness
Cursory helps

And the eyelids…with a soundless blink
Spun those yarns… without a drop of ink

The starry heaven slowly make way
To dewfall skies

A few unsure treads, circled my heart
A few tremulous steps, fenced the wall

Lying, thinking
Floating, diving

I tried finding a home
a home for me
searching shadows
in hope for the silhouette

A lone light over the hill
Someone living there still


One more night of erosion
One more night of delusion
I glance through the mirror and tuck myself in.

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

sapphire, silence, sublimity


this poem fell from the sky, 
from the molten sapphire above
this season melted from the snow, 

from the whiteness pure

this journey began from nowhere, to nowhere, with lots in between
the headlines of the 'galaxy times' says: "the time just froze"

no more angular, no more linear, no more constant variable
soft lights, water, music notes, everything that screams romance
everything that’s mush, everything that sells on valentine’s…
it’s 1000 bucks a couple… 120 bucks a shot of ecstasy


fails to move a muscle in me…
diamonds are not for everyone
sometimes a cubic zirconia is perfect

happiness is another noun, felicity being it’s twin
but poor love lost its grammatical position…
something broke and the life fell, pearl after pearl…
lost the day, while trying to catch the twilight
the shadow occupies the senses
eludes the being
myriad falls, sequestered my silence
the pyre of dreams going up in flame
the effusive hush doesn’t make sense, yet…

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

break my heart for you



Voluble death
Voiceless Life
Inability of the night
To conceal the nonexistent
The potency of the dreams
No more leprechaun cohorts
My prayers languishing… gradually
My breath trilling… feebly
My smiles dying… slowly
Angels croon…
Yes, death becomes me!
No more eros, 
No more a sprite sprinkles dust,


Copyright © Neerja Yadav

my dreams - breathe your name



The void just deepened… a lil more
Now, that I did find you
You drown, in my pain
Am unsaved…myself
I sleep to die
Am scared to live
I sleep to blacken the days
Am scared of darkness
The fears got me hypnotised
Am scared to close my eyes
Trapped inside…
Pounding heart in head
Drumming blood in veins
Rising fever
Setting in chill
You watch me
And now not
Sun shone
Rainbow painted
But the black never leaves
I can stop the pain
And will you alive
but am falling
into myself
they scream…my name
and, am bound…
cant lift my eyes
I was waiting
Now just bleeding
Wont you come to me again?
Wont you torture me again?
The mist waiting in my eyes
To say hello
I don’t want you, anymore
I just lie low


#click

Copyright © Neerja Yadav

slowmotion Nirvana

as he moves at a rhythm
as he gains pace 
am struck by the the slow motion 

struck by
the confusion, 

the pain clouded momentarily

struck...
as his eyes get a glaze
in bewilderment I gaze,

this looked as sane as can be
marinated in and brewed from
as insane as can be...

the mind shuffling grasps on some reason
the heart filling gasps
on this treason

in those seconds that flew

in those minutes that blew
my heart dipped in his colors
my being dyed in his hues

the journey from untouched to drenched
were not calibrated neither timed
in fascination
and some frustration

i savor...

the nonspatial continuum
which picked me up
and carried me
through realms

nothing like carousing

this merry was a tumble slow

a gilded gliding... "now i live in afterglow"


Copyright © Neerja Yadav

love story that just began...



I pull the curtains close to find the bedroom filled with afternoon light filtered with light grey of the curtains. He snugly sleeps beside me.

 I casually look at him… his warmth and vulnerability radiating… you can almost see the halo bleeding into the light. 

I’ve been crushing on him for a while, and I can’t help but smile watching him in formals, floppy hair, rugged smile.His kisses are deep, his tea is okayish, his playlist exotic, he plays goofy, he loves, he smiles, he just looks at me and I inimitably collapse years and be sixteen and sixty at the same time… filling reams of pages with poetry… understated passion

This has been our ritual every morning, every afternoon, every evening… and I know… I did right to vow… this year… no matter what. Be Happy!

Simple things and routines that sustain my core; rituals that soften the edges and simplify the moments and reduce some of the stress I find all too easily creeps in.

Like a treasure hunter, I sift through the trunks of moments of my self; tracing the plot lines and inner narratives that in the moment never appeared connected, but from the vantage point of time, there are evident constellations.

I’ve found notes, text messages, moments, conversations, stolen kisses, lingering hugs, belly-laugh, drives and like the brilliantly lit up cities on planet earth from space… they trace the topography of life that began with one evening, lost keys and unwitting promises to be a happy one!

Of course, not without the complete blackout days which I know so well! Nevertheless, at least the outlines are shimmering!

Copyright © Neerja Yadav