म एक प्रेमी हुँ
I am a lover.
Whenever I walk onto a book store, the very first thing I do is go to the poetry section and flip onto a page. Looking for a sign of love. I am always in search of a good love poem, because I believe it is a message from a distant lover, friend, ancestors, family or even God waiting to see me, hear me, believe in me!!
Truly, madly, deeply.
From the very first moment I was consciousness of my capability to love someone, I found myself loving passionately, melancholically, dramatically just as I am writing this right now.
Growing up in a patriarchal world, the same that men feel towards their own emotions, is usually projected on woman. So, in my world too, woman showing emotions specially that relating to love and longing was a sign of being out of control or a sign of not being a dignified woman. Emotions were always a sign of weakness. To express this yearning for love, grief, passion and pain, I started writing poetries. I stated them into short verses of poetries. I go back to these poems and find them super cringy but also very satisfying (because I still hesitate to feel the deep passion that lies in my heart) and a part of me did!!!
Below is a short poetry I wrote as a teenager about being in LOVE.
When you stop looking for love in faces
Love comes to you in a time very fragile
Love is a person
Love is you
My stories that are ballad to your ears
A ballad of emotions
I know it break your heart a little
But you stay and love stays
Cause love is you.
Once in a lifetime
this feeling Is blind
But I see in colors
Red blue orange and black
I know sometimes It gets heavy
Trying to change or chase
The way the way love embosses you
And how love mobs the water running Down Your cheeks
When you blush slightly
Cause now love makes you laugh.
Take it from a person who LOVE has hurt
Cause LOVE is also a weapon
It’s naive and timid
It’s a rare species
It’s tender and sweet and bitter to leave.
Love is where my poetry started.
Hiding the yearning for love is where the wound lies. It feels like the solitude of a moonless night out in the breezy ocean. Poetry, an antidote, it makes you pause to sink into the hurt that we all store in boxes as we move from one place to another, one home to another. It opens up the tiny muscles, so you can breathe a little deeper into the flow and supply of unconditional love that is you. Poetry is the language of love; it is nature herself. In the language of the flutter of the trees, in the starry sky, in the currents of the waterfall, in the clouds drifting by, in the sun setting, in the birds flying with your laughter, in the painful cries, in the silence of the grief, and all the ways the universe exists in between you and I. In the ordinary moments of life, I extend my ears to listen to it more deeply, to find something magical and mysterious. That’s is where my greatness exists. This is me sharing the greatness of the manifestation of love, between the sun and the moon, the earth and the sky, the day and the night, Krishna and Radha. This is me extending out my love to you through connection, healing and expression. Here and now.
