Nidhi Katoch blog

The fan swirling on the ceiling, the clock showing the wrong time and the closed window are all causing suffocation in me. In the stillness of night sky is numb, only clouds are weeping silently. Tonight even clouds don't want to be heard or seen. They just want to cry, cry alone, without any distrubance. Perhaps that's why clouds have decided to rain during night when there's no one in the street, who can curse them or feel happy for rain. 'Am I really child of this universe? Do I really belong to this world? There's something constantly breaking inside me.' How many times we've asked these questions from ourselves. When we don't find any answer, we crave for escape. This escape sometimes (in my case many times) flows from our eyes. Like these clouds outside. The positivity that lies in the chore of our hearts sometimes clashes with negativity which clouded  our mind, body and soul. There raises battle cry and lightening which illuminates our path. But ...

The deserted land once dreamt about having flowers where the water flows  Birds fly up and below Alas! No one goes near  the estranged place Scorching heat  burnt face When the mist of sand settles down Oasis is a mirage Humans are mere dolls and clowns The night spreads its gown Temperature descends Damned place  will swallow everything soon When the day of doom arrives dolls and clowns Rise Down  

  I'm sitting alone in this living room.  It's nearly 11:15 pm. Fan is on and I can hear it's mechanical sound. I'm sitting on red couch with coffee on its edge and a book which I'm currently reading. The wedding invitation (which I didn't attend obviously) card placed on the table fly for few seconds by blow of fan and has been finally settled on floor.  I get up to place card again on table and use sanitizer bottle as paper weight.  My imagination has really stopped working. All I can see when I open or close my  eyes is this sanitizer bottle. I don't want to write about these masks and sanitizers but for how long can I keep them away from my writings. How hard it has become to think about the life before masks! How much hard... When you can't even pretend your are happy. Even imagination has been spoiled now. Let's just not think about this. May be I'll read my book and drink another cup (don't think I'm caffeine addict). I can drink c...

Myriad memories of the  dark past come at once,  I tried hard to obliterate, everytime it hurts.  Under the ashen skies I seek refuge,  Only the downpour is my friend to hide this remorse huge.  Someone far away in hills saying the eulogy,  Today is the funeral of an innocent dream, I'm the sinner of this cruelty. 

These are the late hours of night, And I'm still awake,  Wondering about my identity,  With the ticking of clock,  My heart quakes,  Agitated by the scruples,  Like the ripples  in a peaceful lake.  Seeking the interpretation of my existence,  Real and fake,  For the mirror and the world,  I'm just a young bird,  ready for first flight,  whose life is on stake. 

The whole vale is covered with mirk, Moon lit night with the hint of mist,  I wake up by the sudden jerk, crying cats and dogs' howls resist me to go back to the sleep, I want to look out through my window  and to stop these weeps, My throat is choked and a shadow  on the wall, the moonlight fills the room, but I can't follow. My brain and body are not coordinating, Why am I calling unknown names,  in some trodden old lanes? Blood comes out from my broken veins,  There's somebody in the flames. Now, I open my eyes  to find my heart is about to break the walls of my chest, But the cicadas song is very kind. I just count some odd numbers,  That's enough to lost  again in the world of slumber. 

I'm alone in this night  Water has engulfed me, My heart is hanged  somewhere in the air, between the surface and the sky. Sobriety has escaped by breaking all walls  of the chamber, Would I ever be able to  reach that place, where peace resides,  where a little black bird flies,  with the ease, without any storm  and screaming wind, where the sun smiles on every dream !

Rage has made its authority in the room of mind,  and bad blood in my heart, Love has lost its right somewhere behind.  My ears are closed Eyes are blind, Body is burning  Still my organs are not kind.  My mouth is silent Thoughts are aggressive, Actions say nothing  words are abusive.  When shall I get the soul When shall I heal Time is slipping away  So does the life's reel.