Tag Archives: Death

Universe and Naked bodies

This story is neither a confession nor a piece of fiction. This story is a reality, our alternate reality, a world we built and space we shared and decided to spend our life.

I am playing the guitar while you sit by the tree and watch me play the chords. The melody is smooth, and it brings a smile on your face. I look at your smile, and at that moment, I feel lucky to have you around, while we are in an air bubble, floating in a dark space, crossing unknown galaxies, going nowhere. In this floating world of ours, which stretches beyond this universe, your presence next to me is bigger than the milky way. In our small world, there is a tree, a bed, a bottle of wine, a little light to show us the way and a lot of darkness to lose ourselves and never be found.

When the Big Bang happened, and everything came into existence, there was a matter, and there was an anti-matter. And when these two collide, everything that is there in the universe will be destroyed. A bright light will blind us in seconds, and before we know it, all the atoms will break, the mountains will fall, volcanoes will erupt, and in few minutes, everything will vanish. Clean slate.

And while we escape, in this little space bubble of ours, we are naked. Words are sleeping next to you, the feel of your naked body against mine which invokes the same destruction as an antimatter would when it comes into contact with matter. I’ll be shattered, leaving behind a dark matter, and our hearts will burn, giving rise to new words and new fruits on branches of that tree in our bubble. We were two people, not meant for each other, with nothing in common, and yet we chose love over other stupid things.

Of course, we are alive, floating somewhere, and while you sit by that tree, listening to my melody, I look beyond the darkness to find a bright light, waiting for us, and that my dear, will either break us or make us immortal.

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Last Page Scribbles – Note 1

1. WATERWAYS 

Someday,

I’ll bid goodbye to this land of melancholic whores

And go to a place

Where a huge tide will take me along

And I will meet new people and write new tales.

I will live a new life in a different time zone

running away from the place I call my home

to a place where I might find some love.

I will draw sketches of that mystical shore,

where white waves hit the rock and split.

I will sing a song to praise the beauty of the place

A place where heaven will fall before my eyes.

2. NIGHT BOOK

 

“Are you asleep?” I ask.

“No” you say.

A star was shining above,

The leaves withered around me,

And your breath was like a melody

in the still midnight.

“I could close my eyes”

“And die here in your arms” you say.


Nightwalker

Little drops of rain fell from the heaven on a strange cold midnight

Little creatures crawl near the damaged crops while working their magic

Its a strange night where the dead has risen from a long sleep

to repair the lives of their loved ones who still cling to their memories.

 

Here I am, holding a cigarette in temptation to smoke again

If only that way I can feel your nicotine dipped lips

There is a half empty bottle of whiskey in my Jacket and I want to drink it

to feel your whiskey tongue which knew me better than my mirror.

 

The lust when you smoked with me for the first time in that February cold

And you took a drag, waiting to feel the heat while we held each others hand.

Times when you only drank whiskey when you were lost and sad and angry

And yet we finished a half bottle of Jack, neat, naked, in that February cold.

 

<Metaphysics> You are running away from life, and I am running away from death

and slowly someday our paths will collide and we will meet again

in another universe, in some other dimension where there won’t be any logic

time will freeze, and we will smoke and finish that half bottle of jack </metaphysics>

 

I am dead and you are sad and whiskey is your only companion tonight.

The grave digger rings a bell, commanding the dead to return back to sleep

I gather your scattered thoughts and try to compose you into something coherent

I am staring at your naked body from the broken window while little creatures crawl.


Apocalypse

Ok. So where am I? Ok, The desert. The desert is calm for some reason and the sun is rising again for the millionth time. I was brought here some days before when the dark clouds disappeared and all that was left of sky was an open invitation for an unknown object to hit this earth. This is not the reality I expected when they told me I was being sent to prepare for my final days. Anyways, this is my reality until the apocalypse hit the earth in ten days. The humans are dying in the cities and I am here, trying to survive ten more days till this world is just an empty space in the map of our universe. A distant nebula has exploded and the supernova will impact earth. In short, the world ends in ten days.

Now the history, as we know it, is being told to us only through the voices of books. The ancient renaissance helped a great deal in saving the ancient literature. And here I am in this desert holding a copy of “The Swerve” which I just brought before a small meteor hit the Bangalore city with such vital force that now all that’s left of that city is the dust from collision. All this just before these learned and wise elders decided to teleport me to this desert by cheating the laws of time and space.

The swerve is story of Poggio Bracciolini who made a great discovery. In an abbey in Germany he came across a manuscript of a long-lost classical poem. The discovery of that poem was also the start of renaissance. The subject in that poem believed that the gods did not concern themselves with mortal affairs. He didn’t create this universe, which was composed of particles as we see in the space today. These atoms that formed the universe moved frequently and randomly through a void. And they would from a direct course, and strike against each other. Life is one result of this collision, as atoms assemble themselves into forms that enable us to see and breathe. At some point or the other, our atoms will break free and move on in their eternal course through the void. Which means that there is no afterlife, no reward for being nice or bad. That the ideas of heaven and inferno is just man made. As a result human beings should not fear death at all. And yet as this universe is shrinking to death I see humans praying everywhere. If only all this foolish earthlings could understand this poem. I am lost in this desert and with this book in my hand, I don’t fear death. Death is just the road to awe. I am only thankful that I get to live my life now with nothing but just with literature by my side. Literature that saved me when I was alone. The very book that explained to me not to fear this apocalypse but to just embrace it. Well I guess that these atoms have decided to break free and travel through the void to form another universe.

I have decided to wrap this book and keep it safe. Even if this universe is lost, I hope this book can travel trough all voids of space and time and reach the hands of readers from the other side of this galaxy. I can feel another person through this book and that feeling is much better than I have ever felt. My mind is so darkened from this feeling, my soul and body is just terraforming now in an imaginative world and that part of me is much better than reality. The reality that will be history in next ten days. If only books could live forever. Yes, if only….


White Night

A million laughters are heard in a faraway land
Where love is a religion and happiness resides
Where tale of melancholies are rarely recited
Where peace and tranquillity has found its abode…
 
Sadly I find myself in a bed with leads fixed to my chest
With wires dangling and chaos outside my window
The readings in my ECG dance like million fireflies
flying on a tapestry of my wounded desires and wasted blood.
 
This heart desires to see the snow clad mountains once more
My eyes wishes to blink and shine with the same enthusiasm
My legs want to embrace the same pain I had when i first climbed
This life wishes to be the same again forgetting that its broken forever
 
This hospital smells of burnt desires and forgotten hopes
I only see hopeless crying heads all around me,
My soul wishes to escape into the lonely solitary path yet again
My body feels like a helpless new born unable to run in despair
 
The days are spent in suffering of the fall I incurred on my expedition
In total loss of words and in loving the silence all around me
I am trapped behind the walls of this prison of my own making
Waiting for the night where this soul decides to leave the suffering of the body.
 
Tonight the moon is the same as it was fourteen days ago
Tonight the pain is the same as it was on that full moon night
Standing on that edge of a cliff, the moon brought light to the darkened woods
And again this white night will bring rest and light to this burning darkness.

The Memento

Lying beneath the sultry water of my desires

Ripping apart the golden chains of slavery  

There is a story each fragment of my heart cries

waiting to be heard, waiting to be written….

                                                          **

The broken edges of trust denied her existence

The love kindled in this volcanic heart became ashes

My Soul was trapped in the cages of your charm

punished for a mistake that cannot be fixed…

                                                         **

Our tale of fondness will be told and re-told for years long

Sung by soulful musicians and painted by solitary poets 

They’ll say the love was strong but it lost to scepticism

while I sulk to the broken chords and melody of our song

                                                         **

The Sun never rise, the moon never looks beautiful

I wander aimlessly in the woods hiding from the light

Because darkness is my home and i am slave to sadness

Broken trees, falling branches and the last leaf on my tree

                                                         **

The smoke from this body is lost in an unknown crowd 

In busy morgue It gazes at the people walking not my own

This lifeless body is lying in the corner of an unknown space 

Decomposed to a trash looked by all, owned by none…

                                                         **

My final tunes of piano will echo in this lifeless world

I shall rise from the dead and travel to where you live free

I shall meet you in your dreams and plant an idea safely

That loneliness kills you and soon you shall be no more….

                                                         ***

 

My words found a voice today. And by voice I mean an amazing and an Incredible voice. Thank You @aaliznat. Listen to the recitation of the above post here: http://soundcloud.com/tanzila/memento-by-ankit-sharma


In Remembrance…

It was a gruesome tragedy an year ago
which brought grief and sadness in the house
The tragedy like a lightning struck in its gruesome form
which damaged the roots of everyone connected.
 
There was a huge thunder louder than I ever heard
A little uneasiness in my heart for i cried like never before
A separation, A loss which like the fall of a weathered leaf
A million smiled dead, A trillion sorrow has woken.
 
The skies were suddenly grey which was blue yesterday
I wonder looking up imagining a witty quote on this change
You were unaware of what I wanted you to say
You were unaware how many hearts died that day
 
Now in the lonesome corner of my heart is a hole
Drenched in grief of sadness, withered like a weak tree
Unable to trace the beauty of yesterday, in the confusions
where the days were happier and filled with laughters and smile
 
My face now fades hiding in the loneliness of our house
The voices inside me cries while my face stays still
When I meet the sorrow I wonder the source it came from
If it weighs like mine or has an easier size.
 
Yes in remembrance to the smiles of those hundreds
In remembrance of the good deeds of past that defined you
In remembrance of lives you touched in your journey which ended
I compose these lines for you in a dim oil of a dark forgotten night.