Tag: #poem

poetries and prose

Winter has come

khushbuluhar

The poet in me can’t find the exact words to define all of which has worked out and all of that didn’t

How the creases straightened out, it sure- took a lot of time but how the havoc took itself out

The very moment I stopped forcing it to leave, I became free

The winter has come, and it’s getting colder with each passing day but I don’t long for your warmth anymore

Perhaps I was the one burning all along, the warmth was flowing out of me all along

Alas! I didn’t realize it until the snow didn’t stick to the ground, cracking up the fragile concrete that I so stubbornly stood upon

Resisting all this while to walk away even when every single person claimed that it was better for me to run off

As if my ears turned deaf, no sound could reach. Oh well, what can I say, love makes you do things.

The poet in me can’t find words to describe how all the chaos of the night has transformed itself into ballads,

And how each coming dawn of the day, whispers a sweet Hallelujah in my heart.

-K. ©Khushbu M 2022

poetries and prose

Sorrow

khushbuluhar

When sorrow enters your life, its screams are astoundingly loud

You learn to wrap yourself around it every night you go to sleep

Every morning you wake up praying that it will all go away.

And then one day, suddenly, it becomes placid in the middle of the night.

The kind of calm that horrifies you because the chaos is all that you are familiar with

Quietly, when you are tucked in your blanket, reminiscing about all that’s been and all that cannot be changed

Sorrow just leaves, unannounced.

-K. ©Khushbu M 2022

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Blur

khushbuluhar

A drive at night, I look through the window and remove my glasses

Everything’s blurry, the lamp posts look like cotton candies

The headlights of moving cars look like smudges of paint

The clouds start to blur, the stars almost not visible even with my squinted eyes

I turn to look at you, the distance in between starts to blur

How slowly, the line between sanity and insanity starts to blur

How the difference between your hand and my hand, starts to blur

Just how the difference between you and I starts to blur.

-K. ©Khushbu M Luhar 2022

#poetry, #prose, poetries and prose

Sin

khushbuluhar

I was told to not speak, so I stayed silent.

I was told that in their ears, my silence was a screech, so I barge into my room.

I was told that my absence was like a fog which engulfed the moon

I panic and run out trying to find the concealed moon, oh ever so beautiful

I come clean the moment I look at it, it feels as if I’m a criminal whose sins can only be washed by the warm blanket of the night.

The sky in the night, brings some strange peace to my cries

The stars align to sing with the tune of my despair.

I ask them, “Are you not tired of singing the same song every night?”

They say that every time a lover promises his love that he will go bring the stars down for her, they listen

They wait for him to break them out of the sky that’s jailed them

They wait but nobody ever comes.

They tell me that I don’t promise them this.

That I tell them I’m here to share the ache when they flicker, I’m here to share the silence when they listen

I don’t promise them happiness, they tell me that I’m willing to stay with them in their sadness,

I find beauty in them in whichever way embedded they are, I don’t try to draw constellations and build something meaningful out of them

That I just let them be, that I just let them sing

That I don’t promise them anything but I do come. I show up every night without fail to meet them.

I hear this and I close my eyes. I don’t know what words to formulate to give them a reply.

And so, I confess. I tell them I have committed a sin which I have yet to ask forgiveness for.

Because I was told to not give pain to someone that I love,

I’m scared that I cut pieces from my soul to make bandages but I failed at every attempt to heal their wounds, the bleeding didn’t stop

So, I hurt myself.

I tell them that I need to be washed off of this burden that I carry.

I tell them that this is the reason I come out when the night is starry.

I come to look for someone there whose love for me would never change. If he pardons me for giving pain to myself, I’ll be free. I come out here in the hope to find him. And in that, I find hope that one day, I too, will forgive myself.

-K. ©Khushbu M Luhar 2022

2:12 AM Looking out of the window, trying to make sense of my thoughts

#poetry, #prose, poetries and prose

Dear daddy,

khushbuluhar

Each and every day, just like before, I still call you whenever I want to say something. In the same cute but annoying way. I’ll go “Daaddddyyyyyyyy” because I know you are listening. It’s just weird not hearing you answer me back with all the lovely nicknames that you used to make for me.

It’s been 1 year, everyone says. 365 days, everyone says. But just a moment before you left, time stopped for me. I am still there, frozen. The time has not moved for me, ever since. It still feels like a punch in my gut when people talk about you in past tense, but now I have learned to just let it go. I don’t know how to mourn. “A family of 4, never saw anyone go.” Never knew there will come a day when we will have to witness this. Knowing you and your love is always here with me even if it’s your physical body that I cannot see, knowing that you are here, is enough for me.

Only sometimes, I wish I could come running to you and hug you tight. Or rest my head on your shoulder while you are watching T.V. Or debate with you when you say how Djokovic is better than Federer. Or wait for compliments when the either of us dresses nicely, well for you, it was every day. Or how you’d always take my side when the whole world turns against me. Or how you are the most excited person ever for my birthday. Or discuss each and everything from what’s the difference between your and mumma’s cooking to how she is the woman of your dreams. From how good-looking an actor/actress is to always concluding how no one is more beautiful than me. Or sing old hindi classics with you when others call us boring and mumma just smiles heartily. Or how you’d be like, “Taari to aankhoj nathi balu” whenever you’d send me to find something and I wouldn’t be able to. Or how whenever you couldn’t find your scissors, you’d directly blame it on me for taking them. Or laugh at our secret talks when mumma is in kitchen. Or bitch about some random neighbor together. Or go watch stupid movies in theatre every 2-3 weeks. Or how you’d come to persuade me and say “Hasne baladu, chaal hass” when I’m mad at you. Or talking with our eyes whenever we are at a relative’s place and you know I didn’t like the food. Or how when I become a doctor, what kind of things I need to do for the underprivileged. Or how you’d just know what I want without me having to ask for it. Or discuss about how life sometimes is so strange and what dreams are yet to be accomplished.

Most of the days, I feel that you are just away. You will come back in some time. Maybe you have gone on one of your business trips or have gotten lost in an unknown faraway place. Most of the days I believe in this and everything seems to be just fine. Until it hits me again. That you have gone to a land which I wouldn’t be able to find. So every night when I go back to sleep, I hope it’s all a dream and when I wake up it will all again, be just fine. But this nightmare daddy, doesn’t end with me waking up.

I have written many of these letters by now. You obviously know. Always kept it to myself, the letters, the anger, the pleadings, the sorrow and the tears. After all, I am your daughter. But this time around, this letter is not going to be just another draft. It’s time I put it out. Maybe every time someone reads it, it will scream “I love you, daddu”, even more. Maybe it will compensate a little for all this time when I wasn’t able to hear it back. Even though, at every moment I tell God how unfair it is, I know it’s Him who has given me so much strength. Because when my world did not stop when your heart did, I knew it’s not without Him that I’m still alive. Because my life began with you, a life without you is foreign to me. Even when looking at a world which doesn’t have you in it felt impossible (It still does). It felt as if I was learning how to breathe again while at the same time, I was drowning. I know He was the one who rescued me. I have known this for a long time now, I just didn’t want to accept it.

Sometimes though, I wonder if His sky was able to fathom all the love that you have in your heart. I wonder if the light of His stars was bright enough to welcome someone who so marvelously from within, shined. I wonder if His clouds were strong enough to hold the weights of your smile. Sometimes I wonder is this why it rains so much even when it’s not supposed to anymore. He doesn’t answer me back but I am sure, He would have told you by now, na dad?

I don’t know how to mourn and perhaps people have come to know this. The day you left is still a blur to me. If someone asks me to recollect anything from that day, I will not be able to. It’s all in haste. But about anything the moment before it happened, I’d remember everything. The day you left will always be a roaring blur in my eyes and a thunderous silence in my ears. But the life before that, will always be astoundingly clear even if I don’t wear my spectacles. It will always be the magical melody filled with love that I would hear even when I turn deaf. After all, there are things that death cannot touch.

Waiting until we meet again, on the other side of the stars.
Tamaaru naanu chokru,
Balu.

#poetry, #prose, poetries and prose

My excerpt pt.11

khushbuluhar

I looked at the sky yesterday

Different shades of red, purple and pink

The birds were returning back to their nests

And slowly, the world started fading away

Taking away it’s beautiful melancholy

The sky is now changing colors,

I give myself away to it’s vastness, piece by piece

I stared at it for a little too long

And it made me believe it was spring.

-K.

.

.

(Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’20)

#poetry, #prose, #quote, poetries and prose, stars and universe

My excerpt pt.10

khushbuluhar

My sweet little girl,

Where did you go?

I have been searching for you for days

You are nowhere on the way back home

I went to the little ice cream shop that you love the most

Brought home your favorite chocolate cookie cream

Thought it would bring you back to me.

Do you want to watch a movie?

I promise I won’t talk in between and it won’t turn into a battlefield

My dear little doll,

Are you lost?

It brings me pain to see the night sky in your absence

I have been asking the stars about you but even they don’t seem to answer anymore

My hands… they have started to hurt as they refuse to let go

But don’t you worry

Scratch, bruise, wounds

Have become my friends from now on, making me feel less alone

So don’t worry my pretty little girl,

I will still look for you in the most mundane of places

Like the insomniac who cries and fights but doesn’t let go of the sleep he lacks

I won’t loosen the grip to hold you

Not until you come back.

-K.

.

.

(Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’20)

#poetry, #prose, #quote, poetries and prose, stars and universe

My excerpt pt.9

khushbuluhar

I have been staring at the sky

Trying to find answers

Answers to questions unknown

For sky, is endless

And my heart, restless.

I have been talking to the stars

Trying to find cure for

the painful but yet unknown scars

For stars, listen to my stories even when I don’t speak

Even when the silence turns out to be bleak

And my mind, seeks that kind of peace.

-K.

.

.

(Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’19)

poetries and prose

Weird, isn’t it?

khushbuluhar

Sometimes, just a meeting with one person is enough and sometimes, not even hundreds of meetings with someone else can give you that joy, that peace the other one gives you, no matter what.

Weird it is, isn’t it?

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It’s about time

khushbuluhar

It’s about time the water returns to the sea, after failing to kiss the shore

It’s about time the night gets devoid of the light as along with faint light of the moon- it’s star is ready to intertwine

It’s about time the books return to the hands who love to hold them, after having conversations for days with the heartless shelves

It’s about time the disable returns to his dream to perform his finest dance, for his sleep will set him free

It’s about time the light returns to the dawn after waiting for too long fighting with the dusk- that wait, my sun will arrive

It’s about time the birds return to their nests,

It’s about time the beats return to the heart,

It’s about time the smiles return to those beautiful eyes,

It’s about time the denotations return to the quotes,

It’s about time the melancholy returns to the song,

It’s about time the rhyme returns to my poem,

It’s about time I return to you, my love.

-K.

.

.
© (Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’19.)

poetries and prose

मेरा अंश|pt7

khushbuluhar

ये जिंदगी के, दिन कितने कम है
कितने हैं खुशियाँ, और कितने गम है
पर इन सब में ही तो तू और मैं ढूँढते “हम” हैं
ये प्यार भी बड़ा पागल सा है,नाराज़ तू है और बेचैन हम हैं।

.

.

-K.

© (Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’19.)

poetries and prose

memories

khushbuluhar

you know why people never lose their memories

even when they say that they don’t want them

because deep

buried inside their hearts

they know that they are the only things they get to hold on to

only things that won’t leave them

when everybody else does.

-K.

.

.
© (Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’19.)

poetries and prose

My excerpt pt.5

khushbuluhar

Maybe in two years

maybe in five

maybe in ten

and sometimes, maybe when you have no years left on stakes

You realise that, not facing the problem only lets the problem have the audacity to look you in the face.

You realise that maybe facing them was a better option and maybe conversating was better than all those concoctions.

There comes a time when you realise that, the things you were running away from aren’t really running away from you. You might leave them far away, but they still exist, some where in some time, hidden from the range of your eyes but never really hiding.

Sometimes, you do. Sometimes, you don’t. Sometimes, you don’t want to.

You see, some people predict the weather and stay home, some people feel the droplets falling onto their skin and run away to find the shelter, some people simply get wet.

-K.

.

.
© (Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’18.)

poetries and prose

Don’t give up

khushbuluhar

Life

Life was there with you

From the very beginning

Even before you saw this world with those little eyes

Even before you learnt how to sit, crawl and walk

Even before the first time you felt sad and cried in vain

Even before someone left you and you heard the sound of your heart break

Even before you failed all the attempts after giving it a several takes

So you see,

Life was and is there for you

Life didn’t let you go when you wanted to let go of it

Life never gave up on you

It’s time, that you too, don’t.

-K.

.

.
© (Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’18.)

poetries and prose

Fiction#1

khushbuluhar

You once asked me

How am I different

How am I not like her

I never gave an answer

Because I never had one

Atleast the one that would fit your preference

But here it goes;

She might compliment you upon how fly you look

How your hair looks perfect and your body? Oh, always in shape

But

I’ll take my time to compliment your eyes

So majestic under the sunlight

And how after, the smile that comes

Making your eyes twinkle making me believe that the stars do come out in the sun.

She might tell you ways on how to handle your problems, how to keep trying

But

I’ll stand with you through them, always be your spine.

She would ask you what’s your result after the exam

But

I’ll never have to ask, my faith is enough to tell me you’d excel in any task.

She may give you goosebumps upon what she says or does

But

I’ll give you the sensations so strong, with every breath, you’d feel your heart beat burst.

She may refuse coming out to the lawn that night, when it’s cold

But

I’ll count the shimmering stars with you wrapped around me even after the air gets old.

She might be ready to untuck her pants and keep her clothes aside

But

I’ll be ready to give up all my ego, take off all my pride.

She may try finding a forever which will probably fall apart

But

I’ll make it happen, make it last.

She might not mess with you to stop fights

But

I’ll fight with you just like you’re mine.

-K.

.

.
© (Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’18.)

#poetry, #prose, poetries and prose

Why

khushbuluhar

There are infinite stars in the sky

Then why am I sad about not seeing them with you by my side?

There is so much beauty in pain

Then why are we separated because of just some strain?

They say, if they love you, they will let you go

Then why are the fairytales so beautiful on the show?

When you said you won’t give up on me

Then why is it my dear, that you left?

If there’s more love in letting go

Then why don’t people fancy death?

All I have read until now seems total hoax to me

As people write what they find comfort in

Because in reality, poetry works as a coax to each.

-K.

.

.
© (Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’18.)

poetries and prose

The void

khushbuluhar

You know you are in trouble

When someone’s absence has your eyes filled with tears the whole time

When everytime you have to smile, it feels like you might start crying

Has that ever happened to you?

If not, you are really lucky

And

If yes, then I am sorry

I understand how it feels like

How you feel that there’s a void in your chest

Which nothing would be able to fulfil

How you want yourself to detach from the world

In complete isolation

Until that one person comes back

But

Time passes, as it always does

And you start to fall in love all over again

This time, with the loneliness

And this time, it’s hard

Hard to choose between

The one who wasn’t there when you needed him the most

and the one

Who was always there for you

Now,

The choice, is yours

and mine

We will see who wins this time!

-K.

.

.
© (Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’18.)

#poetry, #prose, #thoughts, poetries and prose, stars and universe, Uncategorized

My excerpt pt.1

khushbuluhar

You and I

We are written in the sky

In the glittering of the stars

To the flickering of the night

Sometimes,

In the monotonous movement of your lips

And the charisma that your eyes decipher

Sometimes,

In the complete quiet

In the void and

In the comfortable silence between us

When you say a million words

Or even keep complete shut

But how do I make you understand that

It’s your silence I’d fallen for

Because even the stars

They glitter, they crinkle, they fall

But do they ever make noise?

Have you ever thought about

how they sounded like?

Because, I ensure you

that if you did

It would make you understand,

Why silence is so beautiful

Yet so underrated.

-K.

.

.
© (Copyrighted work by Khushbu Luhar ’18.)