Tag Archives: heartbreak

Crushed Mulberries

a poem by Anusha Sreekant

The stranger who visited my town yesterday
Brought me with a glint of fire in his eyes
A fistful of crushed mulberries.
Or mulberries that were crushed because he closed his fist too tight.
Either ways, it doesn’t matter.

And the crushed mulberries
With their juice tainting his worker-hands
And mixing with the sweat on his nervous palms
Smelt rather sweet.
Or something that sounded sweet at least.
Either ways, it doesn’t matter.

The crushed mulberries reminded me
Of lone roads burning
And dark nights in flames.
Or lone roads burning in the flames of the night.
Either ways, it doesn’t matter.

The taste of the crushed mulberries
That I threw from his hands onto the mud in the verandah
Felt a lot like your name against mine,
Your voice in return to a smile,
Like a dream half written in guilt
And rains that sang.
Or things I thought I would tell you
Like the cliché phrase – I loved you.
Either ways, it doesn’t matter.

Baby Steps

a poem by Abhinav Singh Rawat

My legs still resist the flow of the time
Along with the continuous expansion of the universe
The distance between us keeps increasing as I write,
Even if all we manage is to hold on to our places.

You are too far to simply reach out and grab
And the silence though is merciless in handing out the verdict
Good for nothing optimism is willing to surrender the driving wheel
The debate now who’ll drive is between realities;
actual and perceived

My hands, they now blabber
thousand things in thousand places.
Many a time just random fancy show-off pieces.
Mostly, the aftermath of sleepless nights till 3 A.M.,
it’s manifestations.

Your self-proclaimed consciously awkward smile;
played, paused, put on repeat.
The anchored bonds placed on your wrist,
If only my footings could have been so deep.

I wish to see the starry sky, with the naked eye, on a brazen land
Or maybe a jumpy cute black dog, resting along the beach shoreline
If nothing else, then pay a visit to the other world in the books you read
Our galaxies may now be light-years away,
as long as I could feel you around me.

I take the baby steps against the flow of time, the rapid expansion
It makes no sense in the real world, I know.
I’ll be a dying star, bright white light, fading with the distance.

I am invisible now, I get that, I had it coming, I won’t complain.
But if you ever cast a look towards this end
of the universe, I’ll try to make sure
You catch the glimpse of the baby steps, towards you.
In the sands of the time, across space.