To That Guy

To that guy.

To the guy who finally made me immune to any kind of feeling.

Now, I seriously don't feel anything anymore. Is it good or bad, I don't know. But I do know that it's the only way for me to be happy.
Thank you for making me realize that yes people indeed are not what they say they are. So dumb of me to believe them every time.

I think I'll still trust people this easily but now I'm ready to the change of attitudes so well that I've stopped caring. I've stopped waiting for them.

Thank you for making me realize that I can be very happy with my friends alone. I'm so grateful to have found the best people out of this myriad of hypocrites. Thank you for making me feel happy with myself.

I'm sure you're a nice guy and I'm sure you didn't want to hurt me. At least that's what I believe in. But even though I over think I know how this has made me feel and I've learned to look after myself now. So. I wonder how people change so fast.. it's really like their priorities change with their clothes.

There are times when you wish that that person didn't know all that about you. Things you shared with them had significance and were personal. I wish people could realize that mocking in someone's past isn't that funny. You've not lived their life.. you'll never know how they felt and what impact things had on them. Tears may not be there but the scar will always be there. Be it, on their self-confidence/respect or heart. I wish people could see through the eyes and understand. Human to human.

I wish it was all simple. I wish people just said what they really felt. I wish people could realize that in their act of trying not to hurt someone they are hurting them more. Or maybe they already know that?

I care for the tiniest of things..maybe that's why I don't understand how people could be so casual with another human being who also feels as much as them. I don't know why they don't realize that their one small word or act could hurt others so much.

Truth is, people change every day..they change in seconds. I've seen it with my eyes. I've started to feel very objectified these days because of the way people have treated me. But I'll be fine. I'm so used to it now.I don't know.I'm learning. This is my journey of discovering the different sides of a human being. I wish I had all that I wanted. But then what I already have is amazing in its own way.

So thank you for making me realize that. After all, knowing you were worth the while.

The killer : It or Them ?

In the country's heart, maybe she lost her path,
naive, afraid and stuck,

her soul taken and slaughtered in the dark,

by someone inhuman, maybe monstrous, surely barbaric,
struggling to prove to be a man;
hope it knows, perdition awaits very close.

Left rather thrown, some street corner before unknown,
miles away from what she calls home,
the winter morning hard to breathe,

the scared body waning in grief,
not a shirt on her back, not a hand to aid but eyes to stare,

trying to get up, weeping her tears,
the gaze butchering her ounce by ounce,
the worst nightmare was lived and found.

Hearing the crowd,
making the wounds bleed out,
vandalized and torn away,
judged not helped,
the victim turned into a suspect.

Walking by the lanes, purgatory makes its way,
burning the city of  hopes helplessly alive,
seeking justice, her cast-off vagina was interrogated:
marked as untouchable, her spirit unreachable and character unlovable,
the liberal hands that ripped her apart and bourgeois ears that ignored her screams are safely asleep,
being punished for the enormity she didn't commit.

The body which once belonged to her ended up being a social possession to be deemed upon,
wondering whether to mend her tattered clothes, broken soul, shattered integrity or crushed stature,
the timid victim,
perished in her home.


                                                                         -Himanshu Narang

Paint It

The white canvas,

seems blank to the eye,

hides what you leave behind,

the roads, the seas, the skies all it seems all you see.

The scars, the smiles,

at the end, it's all white,

swept away every night,

the perfect picture never stays, maybe was never made.

It's a chance every day,

to make the story right.

the right colors is what it takes,

so grab a brush before its time.

Hold it as long as you can,

recreate it every day.

until you find,

the perfect picture was always white.

                                                      -Himanshu narang

Go Solo

Few Good People

Are you someone who tends to please everyone or someone who just don't care? may be one of them or at times both of them. some people shut the door if they see no one coming and afraid to take a step out , some make sure  that the room is always filled and the door is open for more to be aboard, well there is a short coming for being any one of them, the one who shuts themselves in the shell loses the important time, the emtions, the care, the hold, the someone waitng outside that door maybe afraid to take a steep in or may just unaware. the one who make sure everyone is there, everyone  is happy, well thses people give so much, more than they know it,always trying to make a difference, but in all the fuss sometimes, maybe, they evade being and having just a special one, then the return they get doesnt fill the hollow space within, maybe I am wrong, what do I know but being on both the sides of the table, it feels and pains the same at the end.

 

Define Me

I’m so gay because I’m weak, I’m so gay because I cry; I’m so gay because I care, I’m so gay because I dream about a starry sky. I’m not a “man”, As per your definition; Qualities like mine, Is a straight man’s prohibition. My sexual preference, Why would you even care? The way I talk, and the books I read, That’ll prove my homosexual affair. Grow a beard, Go visit the gym; The colors you wear, Decides if you love her or him. The preconceived notions of the society, Forcing people to act the way they’re not; It’s a slap on the face of the people, Who lost life for “Independence” so hard fought. That hunk you see in the corner, Drinking his beer as you watch; The perfect definition of a “man” for the society, Prefers another man’s, instead of a female’s crotch. Me, the “feminine” guy you target, That you’re absolutely sure is gay; Definitely prefers women, Sorry to leave you in dismay.


- Rohan Mishra