A Group of Friends

I was sitting quietly in a cafeteria with a steaming cup of hot chocolate. The place was teeming with a variety of people. All I could hear was the indistinct chatter. I started sipping my mouth-watering hot chocolate. I was looking around casually when my eyes fell on a small group of two girls and three boys gossiping together. They were making small talks with widened lips and sparkling eyes. They laughed, ate, and drank with the most friendly gestures. I noticed those high fives, hugs, cheers and handshakes. They were so full of energy. They looked happy together. They were definitely good friends. I couldn't take my eyes off them. 

One of the girls was tall and lean. She was wearing a gorgeous red dress. Another girl was short and skinny. She wore a pair of spectacles and her get-up was rather simple. After observing this group of millennials for a while, I realised that not each one of them was really happy. Whenever the girl with eyeglasses tried to say something, she was abruptly interrupted. Her eyes had clear expressions of disappointment, alienation, and sadness.

But, her lips managed to maintain a plastic smile. When they were frequently taking selfies, she was rarely included in those clicks. I knew that she felt isolated. Even though she was a part of that group, she felt distant from them. She was trying hard to fit in, but it only brought despair to her. But, she hid all her emotions under that smiling mask. 

With this experience, I realised that smiles could be deceptive. 

Not everyone who smiles is really happy. And, most importantly, it is futile to try to match the people who just leave us with a feeling of exclusion. Friendship doesn't require efforts. This bond grows naturally. It is that simple!

Amrit Versha

An Unheard Tale

Oh my firmament so clear and blue,
where would I get to find you?
Oh my sweet and bright sunlight,
you deserted me in this dull night.

In the quest of a silvery shine,
I've lost a lifetime of mine.
Inferno is my mind of thunder and spark,
where melancholy is its tyrannous monarch.

Sinking I am into the depths of hell.
Unseen are my tears, unheard is my yell.
There in my heart lies a divine tale.
A saga of courage, a saga of wail.
In the chaos of my head lies one clear view.
The world will some day know my story, too.

Amrit Versha

Where Are My People

Tell me where I can find people like me...
Those who never easily believe what they see...
The ones whose minds are in the clutches of doubts...
Those who are lost in the worldly crowd...
The ones who are searching for their whereabouts...
Those who yearn to scream out loud...

Tell me where I can find people like me...
Those who crave to set themselves free...
The ones whose minds delve too deep...
Those whose eyes see beyond the surface...
The ones whose souls are never asleep...
Those whose hearts flame like a furnace...

Tell me where I can find people like me...
Those with whom I could readily agree...
The ones with whom my soul could talk...
Those with whom I could happily flee...
The ones who believe our world is like a lock...
Those who are desperately looking for a key...

Amrit Versha

Dusk of My Life

From where did it all begin?
And, when is it going to end?
What kind of mess am I in?
When would this fog descend?

There were days when this love 
felt so lovely...
But now I ask myself, "Why did 
things get ugly?"
With my love I know he was
always trifling...
His memories leave me with the
air so stifling...
Every part of me longs for nothing
but him...
Do I really deserve to live a life 
so grim?

In the flames of yearnings, my heart
is burning...
Within my nerves, the pain is churning...
I pass my nights with the streaming eyes...
All I can hear are my hopeless sighs...
It's so deadening that now nothing seems bright...
From years and years, I'm trying to feel alright...
I'm a captive of this darkness and gloom...
I'm waiting for the light to enter my room...

Amrit Versha

Erase the Imprints of Past

It's sunrise after a long, dark night.
It's all bright, so there is no fright.
Bad days are gone at last.
Now, it's just your past.
It's only a shadow.
You better let it go.

If you will ever look back,
you will just get off track.
Present is still in your hands,
so don't cry.
Wake up, and just give it a try.
Let your own power unfold.
You are nothing but gold.

As, now, everything you know,
so wisdom must you show.
From the sufferings of past, 
must you learn.
By your old mistakes, don't
get burnt.

Amrit Versha

Ask me, "What is love to you?"

Ask me, "What drives you crazy?"
When his fingers gently stroke my skin, that sensation drives me crazy.

Ask me, "What makes you feel alive?"
Come and whisper his name into my ears.
You will see my eyes sparkle like never before.

Ask me, "Where does your heart reside?"
Look into his eyes and you will find it there.

Ask me, "What had hurt you the most?"
His incapability to love me back

Ask me,"When did you feel like you were utterly falling apart?"
The day when I saw him longing for her
just as he did for me once.

Ask me, "What are the moments that you
regret the most?"
The moment when I made him my priority
The moment when I lost myself in chasing him
Yes, the times when I forgot who I was.

Now, ask me, "What is love to you?"
Well, if this is not love, then I really wonder what it is!

Amrit Versha

A Paper

Hours never seemed so long to me as they did today. By idly staring at all the suffering bodies around me and listening to their groans and moans, I felt more depressed than ever. That intoxicating ambiance rendered a sense of grief to my core. Amidst the monotony of those white and green walls, which possesses the power to suppress all the commotions of a creative mind, a blank sheet of paper endeavoured to keep up the spirit of life both in my mind and soul. But, what is so special about a blank paper? Can everybody see it in the way I do? How does a glance over it stir all the passions in my blood? Whenever someone asks me about my true love, 'paper' is the word that I find floating over my tongue rather than a 'beau'. Well, paper is not merely a word. It is the holiest spirit, and every time when I’m alone, I vision it as my soulmate. A partner who would always be there for me with no prejudices. A partner who would shower attention on me and even on my trivial thoughts. But, whom would the paper choose between the ink, which validates its existence, and the creative mind, which sticks to it like its better half? My logical self keeps wondering about the correct possible choice, but my heart clearly knows the truth and so it is celebrating its victory. A thought still gives me goosebumps that how, in times of distress, just a sight of a blank paper acts as a calming potion in my body! People, in this world out there, assume that a person without a human friend is too lonely. But, I want them to cut down all of their assumptions first, and now that there is a clear ground, I would like to sow my seeds of opinions. Dear folks, I do agree that everyone needs a friend. But, why is it supposed to be found only in a human body? Why not a plant, a pet, or a paper? I also have a friend. I also get to hear a few lovely questions. "How are you feeling now? How was the day? Is anything troubling you? Do you want to share something? What has brought that smile on your face? Are you hiding something from me?" You’d never know how much my best friend cares for me until you step into my shoes. Yes, you’d never know how a paper is my best friend until you walk on my way!

Amrit Versha