Consuming Loneliness

How do we define loneliness without making an assumption of being happy?
Is it the extraordinary despair that takes over us?
Or the feeling that we would lose our minds any moment now?
Loneliness is defined with the idea of consumption
When despair consumes your light and there is no place to run,
When we move towards the darkness willingly without consideration of the sun,
It is then loneliness consumes us
It is then there is no way out

– Nishtha Pandey

Search For The Shore

What is this exhaustion?
Desperation for love and more
Calling out to random strangers
Asking to be my lover and so
What is this perpetual sadness?
Masquerading feeling that are true
Showing off the false glamour
All so I could be accepted a little through
Why have I turned into a ghost?
Falling from one failure to another
Why can’t I wander on my own
With no one to hold me back and frown
When did all the tables turn
Leaving me out on my own
Why did the lust for sea grow so much
That I refused to believe in my soul anymore
All the while I blamed others
Destiny, lovers and cold
When the real villain was me all the while
And I sold my soul in search for the shore

– Nishtha Pandey

Forbidden Love

We fall in love with the forbidden ones,
Why I can never fathom,
We resort to make believe,
And lose everything we can gather

Search for perfection and shadows of fantasies
A folly we chose to live in,
With experience of many untouched at our disposal
Wilderness begins to set in

It was uncanny, to come across a person like you,
but our paths crossed and the world seemed better for a few hours.
Happiness is short lived, so they say,
I am starting to believe it now.

What is happiness?
I always wondered.
Is it because of the rush we find in doing things, we shouldn’t?
Or because we find a reason to make believe and end mundane living?

Faith pondered upon these questions,
Answers never to be found
And somehow the temporary happiness makes me happy for now
Forbidden love to go on until we get caught

Questions and Heartbreak

I wonder, how many times it might have been
To be cried without being seen
A thirst quenched yet
A tear let out, subtle
Somewhere it may seem

Like we were meant to be
Why does it have to end then?
Why does it have to hurt?
Have I chose this life on purpose?
Or have the I chose to simply exist on surface?
With questions just as many
Would the limited answers suffice?
Will this be another heartbreak?
Or will we survive?

It was only until for a while,
A couple of hours of togetherness,
Expectations weighed heavier on one end,
And everything began to fail
The questions were answered in a matter of hours
Scared from love, he devoured
The answer was Goodbye, an easy way out
There lies another heartbreak
And days of left out.

Working on Saturdays

She liked working on Saturdays
The silence had a different charm under those lights
No gossiping near the water cooler
Long cigarette breaks and everything would seem all right
A few souls here and there would cross her way
Some on the floor, some would walk past her or sway
Some she knew by the face, others, she can’t really say
Saturdays would feel like a slow mundane world in another paradise she would like to be
While others cursed the day and waited to get home
She spent the day in her cubicle making new friends of wandering ghosts

– Nishtha Pandey

Stolen Thoughts of Many Lies

There is nothing I would do to eradicate my anxiety
Only when the cold winds rise, shall my sprite rise
There is nothing I would do to make it all right
Only when we speak of togetherness we realize why we urge for lies
Somehow we find solitude, in bickering about ourselves
The more, the merrier we find
Where we make our souls whole and assume it is complete
But all we really do is cloak reality in disguise
– Nishtha Pandey

Love Once Conquered

There is a unique sadness on her face
It’s broken, no one can fix it
She puts on a mask and pretend to not care
Nobody understands the trouble she has been suffixed with

She wears her arrogance as an armour
Why show the world she is hurt?
When she can easily pretend to have no emotions
A cloak of insanity she owns

Once bitten twice shy
She falls in love with her own shades at times
And when asked about the reason of her destruction
She smiles and says its because it pleases her

Love once conquered all she had
A fallen victim she was named
Then the storm came to change her course
A stone hearted person she became and it was all she chose

Nishtha Pandey

Validating Relationships

Yesterday, this guy I have been dating for almost a month now, put up a picture we clicked on the second date as his Whatsapp display picture. Although I thought it was a bad picture and I looked horribly un-edited, I was touched by his gesture. Within 24 hours, the picture has changed and so has my idea of this relationship. Now, he made it evidently clear that he is not the “textbook relationship” person, but then again why am I keeping expectations from him about the perfect relationship?

Amidst the heat wave of Indian summer and Everyday People playing on my phone, I found myself wondering – What is the perfect relationship?

Is it the one where people go all mushy-mushy over each other? Where you can always find them in pairs in any picture, post, tweet, party or hoarding? Or is it that relationship where people don’t really care whether or not you are a couple on social media but actually spend time together?

Have we really become the generation that needs social media and corny affectionate PDA’s to validate our relationships?

I have known people that are always Facebooking their dates and letting people know how much they are in love and in complete utter honesty, I have always dissed them. But that’s not what dauntingly haunts me. What has caught me by surprise, have I become one of those people that needs social media and corny PDA’s to validate my relationship?

When we met, this guy and I, it was one of those perfect first dates, no nervousness about looking perfect, in fact we met after work, so we both were pretty retarded at the end of the day. Yet, it was amazing. We sat on the beach for hours and hours, talking about nothing but everything random. There was cigarettes, the beach and us. That day would go down in the history as the Best First Date Ever. The second date too was a grand gesture. By the third date, I was already head over heels for this guy.

I have not met a man in a while that I went out with for a consistent month. My relationships lasted a day and I adored the freedom I got from it. But with this guy, I am looking at the whole nine yards. The idea haunts me.

Has the idea of a relationship with the perfect guy could be any more validating to my ideas of perfection? I think about it, but I find myself in a confusing place. By now the song has changed to Comes & Goes in Waves by Greg Laswell and I am still over-thinking this whole thing.

What will it take to make me more secure about this relationship? Will it be the polite but grand gestures he made when we met? Or will it be the numerous PDA we would forcibly do because it would make me happy?

What will it really take to validate our relationship?

I really like this guy, but does one really need to have a picture perfect relationship album on their Facebook page to be in love? Or is that just an added advantage?

I guess out of all the men I have been with, I have particular enjoyed the moments that are captured nowhere except for in my memories, but sometimes, it is nice to be flaunted around.

It certainly feels like you are worth it. Until then, we will always have memories and cigarettes.

Whiskey Rains

The rains entered her home without a knock
Droplets of fire in their eyes, drenched in doubt
Piles of cigarettes lay besides her bed
And picture of oceans and flames in eternity being wed
Everyone witnessed her solitude
No one said a word or let out a sigh on this fortitude
It was only whiskey, that was brave enough
To wake up in the middle of the night and make her laugh
She cradled the bottle of whiskey in her lap
Like a bundle of joy looking to be grabbed
The rains, the fire all stood still
As whiskey absorbed her soul and named her ‘his’

– Nishtha Pandey