If there’s one thing I’m sure of
It’s that this world is grey,
Like a black and white photo that’s
Out of focus,
Capturing a colour palette coloured in
Different shades of grey.
Never knew that loneliness came in
So many hues, and grey had a variety
Of its own.
The gardens, the road I walk on,
The skyscrapers touching the monochrome sky,
Everything is grey.
There’s no exception.
I’m hopelessly trying to find my purpose
In this black and white photo, but
It’s in vain.
You found me in this city of grey, and
“Good morning”, is what you said, and
I kept looking for the “good” in that “morning”
Only knowing that there isn’t one,
With every “good morning” comes a
“Good night”,
A period,
The end of a sonnet,
The last line of a ballad.
Your voice was like the rainbow after
A heavy downpour, and
I hated basking in it because
Rainbows weren’t supposed to exist
In a world of grey.
The husky nature and the velvet drawl
Of your voice haunted me for
Days,
Weeks,
Months,
Maybe even years,
When I finally figured out that
Your voice is colourful.
It was a scary realisation,
I was terrified
Because you gave me a palette
Of colours I didn’t know existed, but
You were still silver.
The silver lining to my grey cloud,
The only exception to my grey dreams,
The only one to paint my city golden.
I fell in love like autumn leaves,
Easily
Swiftly
Smoothly,
You were my purpose in the
Black and white photo, that
Now had found its focus.
Anchor.
Published September 23, 2018 by Shreya RajvanshiIf I were to describe our relationship,
Normalcy isn’t the word I’d use, but
Not because we lack it, but because
There’s so much more to it than a
Mere routine. It’s not normalcy;
It’s a balance.
You’re my 2am text message, and
You’ll be my 3am phone call
Whenever I’ll be drowning,
Not knowing how to escape it,
Only knowing you’ll be there,
Or if I feel like something is missing,
You’ll be that one phone call.
There’s pin drop silence in my room
Right now, it’s also almost midnight, but
Here I am, penning this down while
Listening to your song covers, and
Laughing at your distorted pictures
On my phone.
Your birthday is near, and I wish
I Could be there
In person to tease you relentlessly,
But I’m afraid I won’t be,
And I apologise,
For being distant lately,
For not being a good friend,
A helping hand,
Who promised to be there
Till the end,
And beyond.
A shrill, warped voice inside my head
Tells me
You wouldn’t wait, and you’d get tired,
Of waiting,
Standing,
In the dark, and
I wouldn’t hold it against you
If you do.
It’s strange writing this to you,
For you,
Not knowing where it’ll lead to,
Or how it’d end, but
You’ll always be my anchor,
That one phone call.
Here’s to crossing another milestone
In your life, and
For many more to come.
Confusion.
Published November 8, 2017 by Shreya RajvanshiMy mind was a whirlwind of
So many contradicting emotions
At the same time, that
I felt chaos consuming me.
Baffled and clear,
Bewildered and lucid,
My thoughts were ambiguous and coherent –
Confusion was the only note the voices
In my head could reach, and
I felt I was in the corner,
I felt I was in the spotlight.
We kissed last night –
You and I,
Your heavy breath mingled with
My exasperated one,
Marking the silhouette of my mouth.
With every stroke of your tongue
Against mine, I kept losing
My ground, and
All the nerves in my body and
All the enunciations in my mind
Made me question if it was just
Our lips that met,
Or more?
Rebellion.
Published October 22, 2017 by Shreya RajvanshiHave your ever felt like you’ve
Wanted to be insatiable,
Unobtainable,
Untouchable,
But your wings are glued to your back and
Your tongue is tied by the invisible thread
Binding your words, or
Have you ever felt like screaming your heart out
Lyrically and passionately,
But weren’t able to find the “appropriate” word,
Or the “correct” synonym,
Because I have.
I’ve wanted to be reason I’m awake at night,
The reason I’m haunted by the all the words
Choking my throat,
All those thoughts I’m swallowing, and
All those beliefs trying to claw their way out
In the form of a free verse,
Without being stopped by rhymes,
Or the correct punctuation,
Without being told my sentences can’t
Reach a page they don’t belong to.
I want my words to roam around,
To string themselves into stanzas
Freely,
To lose themselves in the world of passion,
And to morph into a book of beauty and
Strength, without any shackles.
I want my stanzas to reincarnate as
A free verse.
Stars.
Published October 10, 2017 by Shreya RajvanshiLike a young swan
I swim in the middle of the night,
Reciting poems as I float,
Whispering to the stars above and
Trying to convey my dreams to them.
Dreams of helping me get some rest,
Some peace,
Just some sleep.
The water’s so deep that
I look around for a window
Or a portal to teleport me
To the stars in
My flesh and bone,
And into the mantle of their
Burning lights.
The stars, so out of my reach
Call me, enrapture me,
Hypnotize me with a cautious
Calculated gentleness, and
I keep floating, struck by a sudden and
New found charge,
Possessed with knowledge I never knew
I knew, and
Reaching out to the stars
As they reach out to me
Engulfing me in their flames.
Now I’ve found a home
In the stars,
Hoping they’ve found one
In me, too.
Ink.
Published January 27, 2017 by Shreya RajvanshiThe blank white page
Brushed against my fingers
That held the brush,
Dipped in a colourful ink, and
All my inspirations came down
Running,
Splashing,
In front of me, in the form of
The arch of your back,
The curves of your valley
Kissed by the setting sun,
Dimming the contours of your shape,
Teaching me a whole new language.
My mind drew the image of
Your black locks,
Resting on your face,
Lighting up from the rays
Pouring through the curtains, and
You were marvellous,
We were beautiful.
The twenty year old ebony table
Carved with your memories,
Firm,
Battered, came into view,
The wood peeling off,
Yet so prosperous,
Crucified,
On the brink of solitude.
My soul sang songs in this new, unexplored,
Yet familiar language, and
My mouth sighed its consonants, and
My mind narrated the beautiful tale,
But my hand still didn’t move an inch.
Words.
Published October 19, 2016 by Shreya RajvanshiIn a parallel universe
If people were words and
The world was a book,
Each day would be a new page
Rustling,
Turning.
Each event would be like
Ink spilled across the pages and
We would notice
Big, fancy words
Sipping green tea, surrounded
By its aroma, sitting
In an elegant plaza, dressed
In rich, ironed suits, talking of
Intellect and philosophy in
Their posh language and voicing
Their bold opinions, scrunching their
Noses at
Tiny, little words running
In the corner, playing,
Jumping,
Tripping and enjoying themselves,
Living each moment
Freely,
Innocently, and
Interrupting the on going
Sophisticated discussions –
Their honey filled laughter
Pushing the posh language aside, and
Finally the big words would
Crack a silent smile, proud
Of the sound of the ringing laughter
Spreading warm hugs in the
Chilly winter season.
Voice.
Published September 26, 2016 by Shreya RajvanshiI won’t apologise
If my voice pierces your ears
And shoots across the sky, building
Skyscrapers, and hitching to
The clouds above, and
I won’t apologise
If my compelling thoughts,
Sharp as a razor, clutch
Your heart and claw their way in,
Pumping your blood with
My dreams, and again,
I won’t apologise
If you have to savor
The flavour of my words
On your tongue, against your
Acquiescence on a chilly night
Because my words
So silver and so heavy
Carve stones of my name on
The ground I repeatedly stabbed
With my ideals
When I wrapped your unsettling
Nerves around my neck
Like a sacred medallion echoing
The sound of victory, so rare,
So daunting, and so loud
That my sudden, sly blows
Might make you falter and
Scoff at my shadow,
Waiting for my edges to smoothen,
But I’ll let you know that
I’m still just as unapologetic.
Dreams.
Published July 6, 2016 by Shreya RajvanshiI realised that it’s
Best when we do not
“Fall” in love so much as
Let it meet at the door and
Allow it to blossom with us, and
Let it dress us in words that
Dance with laughter because I
Can’t come up with a single
Adjective to describe the
Sheer delight of having it
Knock on my door as I
Stand behind it starry eyed
Watching all my dreams fall
Into place, one by one,
Spinning it into a story I have
Been dreaming about ever since
My fingers first reached the doorknob.
Sometimes, for all our wariness,
Dreams do come true.
Fragments.
Published June 10, 2016 by Shreya RajvanshiYou would call me a fool for
Making fun of his messy hair,
His huge hands, his raspy voice,
The way he rolls his eyes and
How his shoe size can fit an
Entire town, and his broad back,
But the truth is
I like it – all of it, because
I can ruffle his messy hair
Any time, shamelessly.
His hands are just the right size
For me to envelope mine
Through them;
Or he could do the same.
His raspy voice is a weakness for
It compliments my squeaky one,
Oh, and how a little giggle escapes
His mouth each time he playfully
Rolls his eyes at me.
I like that I can hide my feet in
His shoes to keep them warm and
Then put them away
Just to spend a little more time
With him, and
I don’t mind his broad back
Because I could always climb
On it, or hide behind it;
My own safe place.
I like him for the way these
Fragments move together to
Make him who he is, and
How I like him for this,
Hoping the feeling is mutual.