Poetry

You go to a thrift store
buy me a cheapest, elegant
china dish
bring it home
and break it.
I say nothing.

You borrow my bag
for the interview
and some of my experience,
then hand me the wait
but celebration to the other.
I say nothing.

I listen to your stories
all night long.
I listen to your complaints
all day long.
But you practice deafness
I say nothing.

I know the secrets
I know all the weaknesses
I play piano with
people’s trigger points, you say.
Oh, my smartness offends you
and my numbness pleases you.

Wet sweater, five Mondays,
undiscovered language, 2mm deep pocket
and a cheap whiskey—I become all
to make you miserable and say nothing.

I say this is it

©kanikachugh

I met you in Summer

Hell! You were Summer.

One season that I never was fond of.

I, a girl with an autumn-cold heart

drawing crude caricatures of aloofness.

Guess, which season I miss now!

We have December starting

winters approacing

And I don’t have

any fresh memories to hold onto

or the taste of your first words reviving my bones

or your warm smile to stop my shivers.

How cruel and systematic the universe has to be

to not make me meet you in every season for the first time.

Have you ever learned

how to let go of the beauty?

Turning away from the rain,

Closing down the book,

no selfie on good hair day,

skipping drinking tea,

preventing siting on the bean bag.

Since we get to do all these

so easily,

We realise these are

happy-heart moments

until snatched away.

Life in bits and beauty is really pretty.

The first time we met
we were hesitant to say Hi
We walked a bit together
on pavements coloured yellow.
You were wearing orange and I, gratitude.
The season was fall, the air was damp.
Far away someone played the piano
And we walked and walked
Liked we waltz-ed.
A world like this, a day like this
was in prayers and now in bubbles.
How I said my favourites were strawberries
How you said your favourite was Franz Kafka
We both laughed. Our eyelids happily closed

The fall is back again and
I read Metamorphosis
The helplessness, the hopelessness
the plot slipping from sad to miserable.
I sing a song with no tomorrow in it.
And It dawns on me
the meaning of the word
when you left.
You left me in a Kafkaesque world.

©kanikachugh

The diary doesn’t hold secrets
It holds my rebel.
It holds my definition for you
as my favourite fruit,
as a platonic cat,
as any enamoured materialistic thing
with non-existent adjectives
making grammatical errors
along the way
misusing punctuation
but never you.
You my age of twenty-one,
You my little dreams,
You my 10 rules of winning in life,
You my sky and analysis of it.

I ain’t afraid if anyone
gets hold of my diary.
Cause it won’t make sense at all.
It doesn’t have to
Like my love for you.
No one can understand
but me.

©️kanikachugh

Wish you everyone a happy and a prosperous Diwali 🪔🪔💫

World is a non-genre movie.
Fall in love the one moment
dip your hands in death in other.
Mourn a loss, live in shadow
then get interrupted by a friend
snowballing hope through shoulder.
Merry & high sneaks
in-between the world-ending.
Dark and anger at the corner
of the street, hiding
Fights and heartbreaks
are blockbusters choice
Cigarettes and ashes
usually the way to die.
The world isn’t a fight
between good and evil.
it’s the misinformation of
how we spend our time
amidst chaos and dry living.
Sky, prism, waltz, balloons
Unread letters, burned bridges, 3’o clocks.
They just spin
And spin us all around
till we fall
till we are grieved
with a genre leaked
of a house we lived in once
of the swing no one remembers.

©kanikachugh

‘There are too many flowers,
not enough vases.
Get some more!
The fairy lights are
supposed to form a crescent
like a Moon. Fix it.
Lanterns add a mystic
brightness to the windows.
Hang those at a perfect angle.
Hand out the pamphlets!
A special someone is coming.
Prepare everything.’

That’s how I ready my heart
when they are about to enter
for someone to feel at home.
That’s another story
It soon becomes a haunted house
of web, and, old wood and no light
When I hear them say
‘Ah! You again.’

©kanikachugh