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Saturday, April 26, 2025

When the Honks Fall Silent

I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed!

Feeling the pain and fear inflicted upon the victims. 

Thinking of people who chose the path of 'Terror'...

Spent nights scrolling through reels, depicting how humanity's landscape is shifting.

Waking up with feelings of rage, anger and helplessness.


How the politicians, those chosen by so-called 'people',

So blind to their own mortality,

Are bent on infusing biases through what was once the beauty of any community..(Language, religion, region and even gender).

And those innocent at heart but deep in ego, get tangled.


I know every humble heart would have bled at this circus of power, territory, position and bloodshed.

Or probably I was in my own state of numbness that in many years, for the first time I hear not the busy roads (with honks), rather silent cry of humanity, that echoes.

I know there is no going back,

There are predictions and there are eras,

But I ask myself, then why the heck we do what we do? Why the delusion?


Insecurities roared even more...

But from whom? 

Sadly, those in our own surroundings...

Because Today I know the other as 'you',

Oh wait! Do we even know eachother?


My mind races to find the endpoint,

Finding none at the farthest of my contemplation,

Realized, the end has to Begin from once own heart,

With courage to look deeper, stand through the despair and through those individual shortcomings 

I know it's hopeless that will knock me down 

Not once but repeatedly 


But somewhere maybe, just maybe!

A hope with birth

To open the arms and hearts to consider the Me to Mine...


This is my Numb-ness expressed thru sobs.

๐ŸŒน(To every soul that lost their lives and every heart that's mislead, may they find peace ๐Ÿ•Š️)




Thursday, April 24, 2025

Some mornings๐Ÿ˜Œ

Some mornings, all I want is — to cuddle with my thoughts,

Feel loved in the way I want to be loved.

With my eyes closed, 
Worries and burdens parked beside.

Open the doors of memories,
Welcome them, and invite them to sit with me. 
Together, we would write a note to ourselves, 
Pour our hearts into the words, 
Decorate the heart with feelings that nurture.

Open that book, in which the story smells 'familiar'...  

Some mornings, all I want is — to cuddle with my thoughts,
Feel loved in the way I want to be loved.๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿ’•