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The Dream Doodler
I don't know to silence what, I would rather switch on the fan, in this cold night. I don't know to cover up which story, I long to tell you wild and weird stories, non stop. Feed me some noise, just hush off some noise. Speak to me non sense, my mind has the whole Hustle 2.0's set, and I am laid back person. Not that party type. Speak to me. Speak to me like a maniac. Compel me to overshare. My mind speak universes in sub conscious, people considers I've gone nuts.
The Dream Doodler
What does a child become when they feels nothing? Does they cry? How does they burst this heavy bubble? What does a child become when they feels nothing? Do they become me— a child forced in a grown up world to act accordingly? When it rains, you won't go and splash in the puddles with the drops. You won't start to make the dream boat that you want. Rather, what is rain? Nothing. It's in your normalcy. Feeling nothing about it and fearing and apprehending a whole lot of things, people, duties,
The Dream Doodler
Space, silence, question, sleep~ Dear you, Meanwhile, you must've encountered some of my jerks and shivers crawling on the darkest shade of the midnight sky. Someday I speak about fear while some ending lines talk about beginnings. Some supposedly informal letter becomes beyond formal and somewhere in between them I scream. You know there are things which I love to own, and fear for I have to own. Space. I don't believe in commitment, because with me, it rots like the bouquet of felicitation. I would grow in my space. But r
The Dream Doodler
কে বলেছে কবিরা অন্যভাবে কাঁদে? কবিদের চোখের জলটাও ফোঁটা ফোঁটা হয়ে পরে কাগজের গায়ে— কালো হয়ে যায়, শোকের আদ্রতায় ছিঁড়ে যায়, নিঃশব্দে। চোখ ফেরালে, এমনি ফস্ করে উবে যায়। খালি চিঠিগুলোর গায়ে গায়ে সেঁদো সেঁদো গন্ধে ভেসে থাকে, ভেসে থাকে কিছু ছন্দ, কিছু কবিতা হয়ে... Was reading somewhere, that poets do a wonderful thing crying on the paper unlike others. But do we really cry anything different? Panno me jo boondein girte hae, ek hi hae ek hi hae, hum sab ke ek hi hae. Khali pannein me kaale daag aate hae, bhige kagaz sannate me phat jaate hae.
The Dream Doodler
I wonder, how I keep the heart in my chest. I always fear holding something lively & throbbing. Maybe that's why it stays far away from my hands; or else I would have thrown it away, much earlier. Alas! My heart doesn't come with 'Handle with care' tag. #wcheartmuse #jerksnshivers
The Dream Doodler
My heart hurts; a bit more before it runs away. All it fears are justifications to its undefined. At last, we both laugh together (esc). #wcheartmuse #jerksnshivers
The Dream Doodler
My heart is a juvenile criminal So the sentence that's breathing half heartedly in my drafts, now (and would probably do forever), says "my heart is a juvenile criminal." So this piece of my heart will be a very unorganised one with mixed hinglish and english. ••• Ki galtiyan to karte hae ye dil,
The Dream Doodler
When you take the stool of apprehensions to the ceiling, tie the knot of allegations on neck, let's hope before tightening, you remember it isn't your time. Babbling on 'hope', you sleep to see a day, let's hope. #wchopeend #jerksnshivers
The Dream Doodler
Oftentimes, I miss out on you. I type a 'was' beside you, in my oblivion. I get freaked out, the next moment. Backspacing quickly, correct it to 'is', keeping you by my side. #wc4linemissing #yqwritersclub #jerksnshivers
The Dream Doodler
Placenta— isn't it the revolution that can't be subdued by any bomb? Ma, I want your lap, right now. So many things happened in this week. A girl eloped with her boyfriend from our mess. The neighborhood aunties were gossiping about her, and wasn't even leaving to scrutinize her mother's character. A single mother who brought up her girl, struggling with the society. You often tell me I should behave well, or else you'll be pointed at for that. I realised how it happens. I can't tolerate this unfairness. I am not against baba, but if he has given his 100%, you