Epochs of Amor

Your behaviour does remind me of the cold and numbing Winter nights,
Pin drop silence on the roads with closed windows, drawn curtains and dimmed lights.
Chilly on the outside. Warm and fuzzy inside.

Your smile does remind me of the hauntingly beautiful Autumn dusks,
Where the whole world stumbles and almost shows their real faces behind those unrealistic masks.
Pretty on the outside. Hiding what not inside.

Your eyes do remind me of the bright sunny days of Summer,
When the birds are always chirping and the trees and flowers murmur.
Happy and energetic on the outside. Even though the circumstances around are far from being alright.

Your voice does remind me of Spring,
When the world comes alive and the planet seems to be doing absolutely alright!
Strong and commanding on the outside. Weary and tired of fighting all alone all the time.

But when people ask me if these are the reason I fell in love with you; I simply smile because they are not why I love you, o sweet friend of mine.

It is not what is easily visible about you that made me fall; rather I fell for you like falling in love with the anticipation of the first Monsoon showers after the departure of a long Summer or like the inexplicable urge to see a flower bloom and welcome Spring after hibernating through a cold Winter!

I guess what they say is true;

Love is not what you see but it is almost always what you feel.

©theblackcurse via Seasons of Love

Unposted Letters #3

I don’t know if I should start the letter by addressing you in a loving manner because of where we stand today. I never thought we’d fall down this far into the pit that getting out and starting afresh would become impossible. But then I believed we could and told you too!
And then the rant began when I questioned my disgusting self.

Why would you believe me? Have I ever given you any reason to? No! Quite the contrary. I’ve given you nothing but pain, tears, turmoils and struggles. How can I expect to heal you now?
I was so stupid to think that it would be easy. So idiotic to think I could do it. I’ve never been able to mend anything. How’s this any different? How can I fix you when all I can do is break people? Funny right? How a broken person can break so many more down? I suppose a shard of glass still cuts deep into the skin of the innocent as much as a knife does.

Did I really take the decision? To leave?
Was it so easy to believe that I’d leave? Yet again?
Was it so hard to trust me one more time, my friend?

Are the scars so deep that I could never even reach them?
Did I fill you up with so much negativity?
That you could see nothing instead?
Feel nothing apart from the fear of me leaving you stranded?
Was I not trying enough? To make things better again?
Was I not trying enough? To mend those bridges I had burnt down between us one day?

Did my eyes not show you the regret within my soul to see you like this? Or were you so blinded by the past that the present made no sense? Was it very difficult to imagine that we could make it till the end? Was it necessary for you to leave me alone during so many nights, my friend?
Did it feel weird when they called you my girlfriend because you’d stopped believing we’d ever reach that stage?
You know it is funny, this age.

Defining love is none of my business and trying to make you realise that this was real was probably a futile exercise. We’d been waging wars from quite a while but don’t you think off late our weapons used to hurt us quite a lot more than the previous times?
I know what I did was the reason for all this mess but baby I actually never even contemplated leaving you this time!
They say our past comes back to haunt us but I believed that our present would be so strong that it’d scare away our past and it’ll make sure we’re never in tears.

The voice notes actually were wrong. The words said were venomous like I am. The tone was hissing like a snake but I am not a snake; I’m not two faced. I expressed and look where it has brought us, dear. Look what I did to you after you took me back again. Look what I did.
I wish I could take it back but I can’t and now it is all too late for anything anyway.

That’s a sad story right there. Our ‘could have’ would definitely have been a dream come true! But then the ink is dry and your eyes are wet again; the Kohl around your eyes are not the ink I wanted to use to write down our story on these white papers.

Why am I so bad? Why is it so hard to be in love with me? Why did everyone around me who tried to love me, give up and go away? I used to think it was a two sided affair but now? After today?
I stand corrected, rectified and completely flabbergasted.
It is always going to be just me and my unmanageable regrets.
I never intended this to happen, you know? I actually wanted us to make it till the end…. but now I realise I’m designed to be alone.
No use trying to make something impossible and improbable into a mess. I’m already one; why make you into one too? I feel sorry for this. I feel guilty of doing this. I am disappointed that you couldn’t trust me the time I really deserved it. I am not supposed to be loved. I cannot be.

In a world full of people who live and love; I’m supposed to survive alone. That’s my destiny. That’s what I shall get. But not you. Not you.
Everyone cannot be lucky enough to find love but look at me? I found it and I lost it. So many times. This isn’t a way to make things fine; using words to melt you because honestly I have understood I can’t. This is not a letter but a declaration of defeat. I accept all that I did. I accept all that I never intended to do. I accept that I am unlovable. I accept that you are better hence you deserve better. Sorry but these words have come back because one cannot hide the truth with compensating lies. It just doesn’t work that way. I never thought I’d bring you down here and now I don’t know if I can ever make sure you get out of this pit of danger but you should. Escape it. You’re meant for better things. You’re meant to be loved in a much better way. By a much better human being who doesn’t have so many underlying issues. I’m sorry for being a mess and making you one too! I’m sorry for being this way. I’m sorry I didn’t die before I ever met you. I’m sorry that it is too late!

©theblackcurse

Digne • Indigne

Sorry for being the person you never wanted me to be.
Sorry for being the partner you never deemed normal and worthy.
Sorry for being the friend you never could flaunt proudly.
Sorry for being a disappointment for you and your family.
Sorry for being a ridiculous excuse of a man.
A hollow shell making sound but worth nothing.
Sorry for disgusting you with my cheap mentality.
Sorry for being so toxic to you and your soul.

People know me to be who I am not.
I am the worst possible man in love with the best possible woman.
I am loved by her even after I have destroyed her in every manner possible.
Her patience is paramount and my paranoia is all she ever gets back!
Anxiety, possessiveness, anger issues and so much more
She suffered it all with a smile on her face and silence wrapped around her lips.
I left her countless times and yet she was there to recover me everytime I came back.

The world should know that you are an angel.
And I am worse than the Devil himself.

I can never be who you wished for me to be.
No matter how many times you buy me expensive ties and shirts; how can a man like me be good from within?

I’m a sinner. I am your sinner. Always was and always will be.

You’re my salvation and I’m your damnation baby.

©theblackcurse

To be continued.

|LOUD PLACES || QUIET SOULS|

Smiling faces greeting us at the door,

Laser light beams swirling all across the floor,

Urbanized ethereal décor depicting famous folk lores.

The smell of sizzlers, fries and booze,

Flooding the nostrils of everyone in the room,

Waiters rushing to and fro taking orders

And making sure that St. Valentine’s day is celebrated with a blast! Young couples on the dance floor, grooving to the upbeat music and keeping each other’s tempo.

.

.

– “Hi Sir! A table for two?”
– “No, just for me. Thank you”

Perplexed and maybe even a tad bit shocked,
He points towards one of the corners of the room.
I wade through the sea of intoxicated lovers,
While hearing the loud music eat up most of the silent proposals.

I order my usual, a scotch whiskey on the rocks,
And the DJ puts on one of those romantic tracks.
The disco ball goes off and the dim lights come on,
I look around to see if I’m the only odd one out!

And there she was, sitting at the other corner of the room,
Sipping her Cosmopolitan and looking at the couples’ dance; with what seemed like forlorn eyes.

She seemed familiar; as if I’d seen her somewhere,
Her brown hair seemed like a cascade, beautifully complimenting her smile which seemed sad on the inside.
I felt an urge to not look away, which was uncommon for a guy like me; I’m sure you have deciphered that already by yourselves.

I had read about broken smiles plastered on happily masked faces but I had never experienced it before and it pierced right through my heart which had already been shattered into a million pieces. And then our eyes met for a few seconds..

“You can say what you want but I’m giving it a chance”

©theblackcurse

Song ~ Revelator eyes by The Paper Kites

Sad Old Year

What has changed apart from the number at the end of the date and the calendar page?
A new year has started with senseless joy and meaningless banters.
The world seems to have found a renewed passion and adulterous enchanters.

The melodious songs of the yesteryears have given way to the new beats of decadence.
Phantom threads of the sartorial minds nurturing thoughts of business and brand new trends.
Morality and ethics are lost at sea
Like Lemuria and Atlantis were once.

A new day awakening the sleeping world,
A broken canvas and colours spilled all around.
Families and friends, gathered together like before,
Absinthe and cigarettes have numbed us all.

The countdown begins and everyone’s back on,
‘Hurry! Hurry! We’re nearing the count of one!’
Merriment and wishes all around,
Unknown souls greeting each other with familiar sounds.

The eyes at the corner watches all this with a scowl,
What’s the noise and celebration for?
Aren’t we all nearing the end of our time?
The planet won’t die but it’s inhabitants shall,
The man made Gods’ won’t help you
Even if you read the Bible or do the Namaz.

What will save you then, comrades?
Religion, politics or commerce?
You’ll all turn around and see what you have done
And the planet will rejoice as the the plastic cups are buried under the blooming flowers.

©theblackcurse

Unposted Letters #2

When in the morning I wake up late,
And you fly into a rage,
I quickly sit up on the bed,
For I understand what’s there in my fate.

When I don’t reply to your never-ending texts,
Your blood pressure at once jumps and the usual serenading voice of yours,
Often compared to an Angel’s by me,
Changes into a scorned and angry one,
Demanding an answer to the reason of my late reply.

I oblige with an answer as I know that you’ll not take much time to return to your lovely and graceful self.
They say ‘when all else fails, there’s family’; well, for me it’s You!
I know everyone else may feel bad, may feel left out but what do I do?
It is not always that I can tell them that.. I love her,
It is not always that I can tell you that.. I love you.

When you feel that I’m unromantic and that I don’t express my love through the preferred phrase of “I Love You’s”
I know how you feel but what to do?
And as they say, ‘true love is felt!’

Don’t worry about things I say in anger,
I’m a kid so my anger provokes these,
But somewhere down the line I’m sure you know
That though it is not always that I can tell you,
But know this my love… I do love you!

©theblackcurse via the first letter for her

Featured Picture – Rupsa Sreemani.

My Bougainville

I’ve walked around a fascinating place,
Up in the mountains, away from the plains.
I’ve walked across gorgeous gardens,
Where my gloomy childhood blossomed
And the happiness was never shrouded.

I’ve seen colours painted across the sky,
I’ve seen birds singing to fireflies.
I’ve walked past the place where I saw you,
Been there a zillion times and yet it still feels so new.
I’ve attached our memories to the petals and the feathers,
In Autumn they fall, only to re-emerge through unposted letters.

I’ve stood beneath you, my Bougainville,
I’ve whispered my worries into your ears.
I’ve stopped by while rushing to a destination,
Only to catch a leaf fall to the ground in silent anticipation.

I’ve left the city which beholds you,
And yet I reminisce about the evening walks and what I’d do.
In this foreign land, on this foreign soil, every dawn,
You bloom just as beautifully as you did in my backyard lawn.

The pinkish hues feel soothing to my eyes,
As I float back to the afternoon in my mind,
When below you I so peacefully lied,
And the world seemed like it wasn’t dying.

©the black curse via My Bougainville
@d_debi clicked.

Euphoria

I think I’ve seen the place where the clouds are made,
I think I’ve seen how the elves make the snow rain,
I think I’ve seen the place where the stars take their shape.

I’ve been nearby yet never fully made my escape and I’ve heard the faint whispers of those who’re working there for ages.

I’ve seen the swirling smoke rise high up into the night sky,
I’ve seen the moon get shrouded and the Earth preparing to stand by.
I’ve felt the lights fade away and the cascades of my imagination illuminate,
I’ve always wondered if the world was just a minor gateway or is it possible that we’re all pantheistic?
My psychedelia seems to have taken over me and now I can say this surely..

Yes, I’ve seen the place where the clouds are made,
I’ve seen how the elves make the snow rain,
I’ve seen the place where the stars take their shape.

© theblackcurse


Artist ~ Sakshi Jajodia

Unposted Letters

Don’t cry for your love, cry tears of Joy.

We are never really alone. We are never really not alone. Are we? We are never really ourselves. We are never really comfortable being our true selves. We are always thinking what the world shall think when/if they see us in our real forms.
Have you ever felt a restlessness to express yourself to someone? Have you ever felt a sense of relief when you have seen someone? Have you ever stared at someone so hard that your eyes have read every intricate details on their face? That your mind has them etched inside the canvas of its palace? Have you seen someone in such a pious way that even Beelzebub himself with all His tricks couldn’t have made you believe that they were wrong? Have you loved anyone so much that you felt that you don’t need to love yourself anymore?
Have you ever hurt the people who did everything they could possibly do for you and yet break them down so bad that every time you saw their smile you felt how broken it was and all you could do was enter the bathroom and lock yourself and let your eyes bleed?

You have loved. You have lost. You have moved on. Made peace.
Is it necessary for everyone to be able to do that?
Is it possible for someone to forget that one person who did everything right and then undo all of them?
How do you recover from That?
You say to your stupid organ that beats that it is a farce. It is a mask to hide us from the cruelty within.
For the most civilised people would go to the depths of Hell to make sure they have their own brands of Heaven. The rant is about to get over or maybe begin again!

I’m restless. In my head. I’m not right. I’m a mess. I take pride in being so.

In a world full of sane murderers; I’m an insane angel with the devil’s horns over my head.

And then I hear her, a devil in her own right but the one with those angels’ eyes that Coldplay sang about. Her voice is so fragile that you almost hear her broken self through it. A broken soul masking it by a charade of false happiness sprinkled over by love. A love that’s so pious for her yet her eyes meet mine and in a brief moment I see us; in a place where she’s looking at me and only me.
The recess bell rings and she’s gone. I follow her. We meet. We speak. We smile. My smile is wider than ever.

“Why me?”, the age old question.

Honestly? It is because I can see you. The real you and instead of running I’d rather wait to see where we go. Where you take me. A place where I see you like no one else has ever seen you. And where you strip me of my ornaments to see the scars I wear.
Some visible; some still fresh. Some simply there only for me to feel.

The answer remains inside; forming yet another wound. I say nothing and Silence has always been my doom.

She came. She saw. She left.

She came back. She saw. She stayed. She left.

Things change after 2 out of 3 falls right? The right and the wrong are submerged. The feelings are iterated and reiterated to a point where we are clueless about what happened. You don’t know what happened inside. Not sure whether it was a wicked game or just a foolish mistake.
And yet you stand.
And she’s back again.
And this time I see her again. I see those eyes again. Regret filled and upset. I see the words weaving out of those lips; apologising and justifying her course of action. I see that black dot on the upper lip.

“Why me?”, she asks again.

‘Because you see me in all my glory and gore. You make sense of this war waging within. You see me but you never judge me for who I am. You see me just the way I see you.
And I feel like this seeing makes sense.’

You were my beacon of salvation and I was your Starlight.

~ the black curse via seeing you see me