MIDNIGHT BLUE

Let me pen down a memory Let me pen down one.. Where there's no you One where infinity exceeds to singularity  And two souls ceases to be one A link to all the links.. A bridge to connect all of them  Let me pen down a valley  Where there's no mist.. No snow No river of ambiguity.. Nor any mind seeking oblivion  Let me own down a me A carcass of no hopes  Let me pen down a melody Let me pen down a song Let me whisper it into your ears A song of pain and despair  Let me talk to you... Let me see you Let me look eye to eye  And for once and all, allow me to leave you Free me from this cycle of life and death To born.. To bloom and to degrade  Let me pen down a soil Like sand.. Always ready to slip from my hands  Let me fly and let me fall Let me engulf the zenith.. I can't be horizon anymore  Let me.. Let me.. And let me Let me loose a thousand times Over the victory of yours By - Kshitij Sinha  19/5/2020

Conversation between them She: Sometimes he sits on the terrace stargazing, Deeply fallen for I do not know t whom: like he makes me fall for all his art. I stare at him. Like he is staring at that empty sky. I grab his hand, point it towards the darkness and then towards me, telling him I am his star. He: Who is that he.. Is he or is he you Is he everyone around.. One trying to weave his dreams on the rotten grounds Does speaks or does he hears.. Is he even alive or he does stares... Staring at hollow nights Where I'm not just a person I'm a myth.. A star of skipped sleep She: You say I am a myth, And you my love, are a star of skipped sleep. You slip into the mornings;  And I slip into some more darkness. They say stars are the past we see, May be that is why, we shall meet at the distant horizon, where the sky touches the sea. He: A montage of crimson yet pale sky Aren't we all ill.. fallen over what he have and what we'll never possess What is an horizon.. Except a ...

Shimla.. The comforter of distressed and an abode to dejected Shower me with your mercy I long to roam your streets... Again and again As the snow kisses your pavements  On that December ever, caressing mall road I'll peak from the ridge of longignes  Beholding your beauty...like a teardrop I'll evaporate  Climbing the hills of Jhaku  Eloping with monkeys... A trip till oblivion ends Under the mesmerizing architecture of Rashtrapati Nivas..  Do allow me to rest Biweldering over the circular stairs  Tiptoed I'll search for my echo  Elated at the zenith of Christ church ahead  From Sankat Mohan to State Museum At scandal point.. I'll dare to dream Dream of kalka apples.. As our toy train hover over the never-ending bridges String of pearls from Summer hill to Garton Castle  Peaks of Kufri.. And the giant yaks Gazing with a cold stare  Shimla...My queen of hills  Let me be in your service under that moonlit December night Under the she...

This is me and if you are reading this…..then that surprises me. Question – How, how did you land here? Now that you have, I’m really delighted. Soon you’ll be crawling through the pages and you’ll realize you are meeting a deeper portion of the ubiquitous depth where the me tries to meet the other me. And all of me just juggling and struggling to be that me. There are many faces to that me and I am named Kshitij. The me with an identity. I started writing amply long back, on the roads we were traveling, packing and unpacking…..the first poem wasn’t much of a joy neither were the ones forgotten by. I love to travel and in-fact I have found that it’s a trait which unlike words you can’t write… It has to be listened and listened from the core of your heart. Well they say it’s an urge and so it is…Alphabets, words, sentences, paragraphs and prose’s  diving and diverging into myriad separate paths…Isn’t what life is, random thought and doubts witnessing the void of time engulfing the m...

There's a difference between dreams and delusion There's no pride in prejudice  And there's a silence in hunger  There's an echo in the cry of longignes  A resonance in destruction  What writers have different from others Except the ability to rendezvous with words and pain A shallow dive into oblivion Only what's broken can be healed  Being fragile is to be weak You can't let your pen bleed.. It's a war Its a curse.. It'll make you weep under auroras It'll cheer you up as the autumn breaks  Its not just ink taking shape over wood pulp It's the energy into motion  There's a difference between invasion and to rule There's an ongoing coup over my thoughts  The toxication you left and with the suffocation I beg for truce  Envisaged the past.. Stranded I see my future  All it takes is an idea.. A rebellion of present All it takes is a thought.. A revolution of dead Ready to be reborn By- Kshitij Sinha 10/5/2020

Today I heard your voice after a decade Same nuances.. Same genuinity.. Same empthy of longingness  Today I dare to cry... Today I dare to weep Deep down the retrospective memory lanes  Same canteen.. Same coke and the same slice of that sweet dark forest  You in red and I forgetting your name That abode by the fountain  And I trying to find the reasons to play with your hairs  Let me kneel down and let me propose you again Take me back to those days As we'll cross the temple.. I'll buy you roses again and again  To make sure thorns are cut.. I can't see you hurt in anyways "Change is the only constant" I wish we were... But we aren't same Today I heard your voice after a decade Same nuances.. Same genuinity.. Same empathy of longingness  Today I dare to cry... Today I dare to weep Deep down the retrospective memory lanes  In loop I'll hear you.. Syncing my heart as the melody sways  Today I'll dwell into a happy place.. Today I'll dwell into...

Silence in itself is an answer Answer of all the questions I couldn't ask  Answer to all of the questions you couldn't reply  We both stand on different paths today  You care for spring.. I long for autumn  You the pilot and I the carrier Carrier of all the luggages.. Luggages of hopes Luggages of lament and betrayal dressed as my passengers Silence in itself is an answer  That I was wrong and you were right  Silence in itself is an answer  Of all the learnings I had learnt Before my clock ticked and commanded.. It's time Before melody left my orchard  Before being you.. Instead of I I see my retrospection.. As ocean turned into mere droplets of water  Evaporating and diminishing to an existential point  Loosing all it's vibrance and being bitter to a state Where taste is just a misnomer.. Centuries of a never aging wine Yet suddenly all of my thirst has died  I see moon caressing my soul under introspective lights  I only see ...