Vanishing Act: The Hidden Yearning to be Found

             Image: Sunder Nursery, Delhi

Self-isolation has always been my way of coping. Often, I feel an overwhelming urge to vanish from everyone without leaving a trace. It's not that I don't enjoy the company of others, but sometimes the weight of the world becomes too heavy, and all I want is to be alone.

There's a peculiar comfort in the idea of disappearing. It's not about escaping my problems; it's about finding a peaceful place where I can simply exist. During these times, I want to ignore everyone and everything around me and retreat into my own world.

When I disappear, I have the freedom to do whatever I please—reading a book, taking a long walk, sleeping, or indulging in my favorite hobbies without the pressure of social interaction. There's a unique joy in being able to exist without seeking validation from others.

In embracing the practice of disappearing, I've come to understand the significance of self-care and self-awareness. It's about recognizing my own needs and setting boundaries, even if it means stepping away from the chaos of everyday life. Disappearing allows me to recharge, reflect, and emerge stronger.

Yes, I disappear often. And I've come to accept that it's okay. In fact, it's crucial for my mental and emotional well-being. It's a reminder that amidst the hustle and bustle of life, it's okay to press pause and retreat into solitude.

Yet beneath this desire to vanish lies a deeper yearning—not to disappear, but to be found. It's not a wish to be forgotten, but rather a longing to be sought after, understood, and accepted for who I am.

So, even though it may seem like I want to run away, what I truly want is for someone to find me, to rescue me from the darkness I've always been in, to show me the light, and to let me feel that I am not alone.

I've lived with the practice of disappearing, but I also hope that someday, someone will find me.

Creative Souls

                     A painting by me

In the quiet corners of a cluttered mind

Lies a creative soul, struggling to find

The beauty in imperfection, the art in mistakes

Consumed by doubt, the passion fades

Each stroke of the brush, each line on the page

Each step of the creative process

Seem to fall short, fail to engage

The artist within, the heart that longs

To create something brilliant, something strong

But perfectionism takes it toll

Leaving the artist feeling less than whole

Every flaw magnified, every misstep

Leaving them paralyzed, leaving them swept

In the tides of self doubt, waves of fear

That they'll be never good enough, thag their work will disappear

Into the void of forgotten dreams

A miserable creative, torn at the seams

The hours tick by, the days turn to weeks

As the artist struggles, as the future peaks

Into view, a mountain to climb

But, they're stuck at the bottom, out of time

The canvas remains blank, the words left unsaid

As the artist wrestles with the thoughts in their head

That they will never be worthy, never be great

That their art is nothing, but a cruel twist of fate

But deep down inside, a spark remains

A glimmer of hopes, a flicker of flames

That maybe, just maybe, they'll break free

From the chains of perfectionism, and finally see

That art isn't about being flawless

It's about the process, the journey, the causes

That lead us to create, to express what's inside

To let go of the fear, to take back our pride

So the miserable creative, lost in their despair

I say, keep going, keep fighting, keep taking care

Of the artist within, the one who longs

To share their vision, to sing their songs

For perfection is a myth, a cruel deception

That lead us astray, that stifles our expression

Embrace the imperfections, the flaws, the mistakes

For they are what make us, what give us the break

To create something real, something true

To show the world who we are, what we can do

So let go of perfectionism, let go of fear

And embrace your art, for it is here

To stay, to grow, to evolve and change

To find your voice, to break free from the chains

Of doubt and self loathing, of insecurity

And let your creativity soar, set it free

For you're an artist, a creator, a dreamer

And your art is a reflection, a streamer

Of light and shadow, of joy and pain

So let it shine, let it rain

Down on the world, on those we see

The beauty in imperfection, in you and me

For we are all artists, all creators at heart

So don't give up, don't fall apart

Keep going, keep creating, keep dreaming

For art is love, in all it's gleaming

Imperfections and flaws

It's what makes us human, what makes us stand tall. 

Where Did She Go?

She was drowning

None saw the struggle

She was stammered by her own self

But, never spoke a single word

She tried hard to prove her worth

But, the people disagree with her

She sat in the corner and cried

But, none could hear her voice

She felt some brutal pain

Still, she carried herself with grace

There was always a smile on her face

She never let others to know her sufferings in any way

Her main goal was to make everyone happy

No one sees the world, the way she sees

She left with no trace

Somewhere in the middle of the dark

Where the bushes are gloomy

Trees have thorns

Leading the dark world to where? 

Nobody knows

I don't know when she'll return

It will take a long haul for her to come

Perhaps this will be the end of her kindness

She has left her own self, 

In the middle of darkness. 

Whispers Among Roses

"I wonder if flowers get jealous," I asked him one day while looking at a bunch of red and yellow roses on the corner table of that tiny restaurant. I had plucked them from my lawn in the chilly month of January.

"No, my love. Each one is exquisite in its own right." He selected a crimson rose and nestled it gently in my hair.

"Yeah, but some are more beautiful than others." I tried to remove the flower from my hair and replace it with another one.

"Ah, comparing beauty is merely a facet of human nature, sweetheart," he remarked.

We both smiled while eating our Masala Dosa.

Grow Through What You Go Through

The ache you feel that burns

Comes from where desire yearns

The space that was once void

Now feels completely destroyed

The voices still playing in the mind

On a loop waiting to rewind

The fears of protection taking over

Memory serves its purpose to manouver

I'm here to help you navigate

By your side, your soul advocate

To not give into these fears

Have faith till the pain disappears

I'm here to hold you and cocoon

Hearing and present to your hearts tune

We will go through, what we go through

Look at it from the bird's eye view

Timeless Love

If you're looking for forever, 

I'll take the batteries out of my clocks. 

So that we will be stuck inside this moment,

As if time had really stopped. 

I would tell you I love you every second, 

Except here, second do not exist. 

So I'll say I love you with each breath, 

With each smile. 

And when I die, you can crank your watch, 

Restart your clocks, begin the time. 

And know that we are infinite,

In the moment that you were mine. 

A Tribute to Momin Khan Momin on His Death Anniversary: Celebrating the Enduring Legacy of a Literary Luminary

Lately, I've developed a profound interest in Art and Culture, and I was amazed by one of the Ghazals of Momin Khan Momin. As today marks his death anniversary, allow me to pay a tribute to him through this article. Before delving into his favorite Ghazal of mine, let's take a brief look at who he was.

Momin Khan Momin (1800-1851) emerged from a lineage steeped in the rich cultural tapestry of Delhi. Born into a distinguished family of healers, his early exposure to Persian, Urdu, and Arabic laid the foundation for his poetic mastery. The honorific title "Hakim" bestowed upon him was not merely ceremonial; it echoed his profound understanding of both the healing arts and the intricacies of language.

Married into the esteemed lineage of Khwaja Mir Dard, the Sufi sage of Delhi, Momin's poetic journey was infused with spiritual depth and romantic fervor. In the illustrious company of contemporaries like Mirza Ghalib and Zauq, Momin carved his niche with a style uniquely his own, blending simplicity with profound emotion.

Renowned for his romantic disposition, Momin's verses effortlessly capture the essence of love, longing, and human connection. His poetry transcends the barriers of time and language, resonating with readers across generations.

A testament to his poetic prowess is the famous anecdote wherein Mirza Ghalib, himself a luminary of Urdu literature, expressed willingness to exchange his entire 'deewan' for just one of Momin's couplets:

"Tum mere paas hote ho goya,

Jab koi dusra nahi hotaa."

In these lines, Momin encapsulates the essence of love's exclusivity, weaving a narrative of unparalleled intimacy and longing that continues to captivate hearts to this day.

And, this is so true as love is indeed a paradoxical emotion, capable of imbuing us with both strength and vulnerability simultaneously. It serves as a catalyst for profound transformation, unlocking the door to forgiveness and understanding within our hearts for our beloved ('Mehboob'). Despite their imperfections, love allows us to perceive those flaws as facets of their unique perfection, enriching our connection and deepening our appreciation for the intricacies of human relationships.

Indulge me as I unveil a masterpiece of Urdu poetry, a Ghazal by the eminent Momin Khan Momin. This composition not only stands as one of his most renowned works but also resonates deeply with my own soul, capturing the essence of true love and its myriad complexities.

असर उसको ज़रा नहीं होता ।

रंज राहत-फिज़ा नहीं होता ।।

बेवफा कहने की शिकायत है,

तो भी वादा वफा नहीं होता ।

जिक़्रे-अग़ियार से हुआ मालूम,

हर्फ़े-नासेह बुरा नहीं होता ।

तुम हमारे किसी तरह न हुए,

वर्ना दुनिया में क्या नहीं होता ।

उसने क्या जाने क्या किया लेकर,

दिल किसी काम का नहीं होता ।

नारसाई से दम रुके तो रुके,

मैं किसी से खफ़ा नहीं होता ।

तुम मेरे पास होते हो गोया,

जब कोई दूसरा नहीं होता ।

हाले-दिल यार को लिखूँ क्यूँकर,

हाथ दिल से जुदा नहीं होता ।

क्यूं सुने अर्ज़े-मुज़तर ऐ ‘मोमिन’

सनम आख़िर ख़ुदा नहीं होता ।

Momin Khan Momin's lasting influence illustrates how art keeps people alive even after death. His poetry continues to inspire and connect with people, showcasing the enduring power of creativity to transcend time and mortality.

This is How I'll Destroy You

I've to say, before we start, 

That I'll tear your life apart. 

It won't take long for you to fall, 

For all my lies however small. 

I won't be there at your beck and call in fact, 

I won't love you at all. 

I plan to come on horse with shield;

A smile, a grin, weapons concealed. 

And you'll be the happiest you've ever known, 

And soon enough you call me "Home", 

Not knowing that you'll be alone. 

And too scared to pick up your own mobile phone. 

Yes, I should warn you- I lie a lot. 

I'll make things up and claim that you forgot. 

You'll question things you know are real, 

Things you thought were no big deal. 

I'll take your joy. 

Your memories I'll steal. 

I'll dictate what you think and feel. 

I'll call you a manipulative bitch and mean. 

Inspite knowing that it was me, who was at fault all the time. 

Let me assure you- I'm never wrong. 

Despite the words that fall from my mouth. 

'That didn't happen', 'I never said that', 

I'll make things up and call them facts. 

I'll blame you for all my failures. 

You'll be nothing but my doormat. 

Always on edge, you'll never relax. 

I definitely won't be loyal to you. 

I'll be sleeping with few other girls too. 

I'm not sorry to say, that on most nights, 

I'm not driving just to see the sights. 

But, I'll still blame you, abuse you and block you, 

And I'll start a fight. 

Because you're always wrong and I'm always right. 

You'll cry, you'll not eat.

Meanwhile, I'll laugh and enjoy all my meals. 

Your social life I'll entirely kill. 

You can make something up, 

Tell them you're ill. 

I want to be what your entire life is about. 

Every single day I'll give myself reason to shout, 

Only then you'll start to get your doubts. 

So, then I'll have to up my game, 

And things will never be the same. 

I'll kick and punch, and bite and slap, 

Claiming it was just a tap. 

'You're overreacting', 'It's just a mishap', 

If only you'd shut your fucking trap. 

Oh yes, it will be down to you. 

I'll say I hate something that you do, 

And you'll feel guilty for your own bruises and cuts. 

It's all your fault, no ifs or buts. 

It wouldn't have happened if you'd just shut up. 

Cry out quietly, if you must. 

You need to start perfecting lies, 

When people ask about your eyes, 

Your busted lips or swollen nose. 

Your ribs are fine- no one will see those. 

The bloodied ears, the forehead blows, 

'I walked into a door', so it goes. 

You'll lose all of your self esteem, 

And realise we were never a team. 

I'll make you believe no one will ever want you. 

I'll flatten all confidence you ever grew. 

I'll take away everything you ever knew. 

And you'll do whatever I'll tell you to do

And it will all happen to fast for you to see. 

Soon enough, you'll worship me. 

You'll be my pet, so get in line. 

Tell everyone you're doing 'just fine'. 

I've written your fate, 

You'll happily sign. 

You belong to me, 

Your soul is mine. 

I got Flowers Today

I got flowers today, 

It wasn't my birthday or any other special day. 

We had an argument last night, 

And he said a lot of cruel things that hurt me. 

I know he's sorry snd didn't mean the things he said, 

Because he sent me flowers today. 

I got flowers today, 

It wasn't our anniversary or any other special day. 

Last night, he threw me into a wall, and started to choke me. 

It seemed like a nightmare. 

I couldn't believe it was real. 

I woke up this morning sore and bruised all over. 

I know he must be sorry, 

Because he sent me flowers today. 

I got flowers today, 

It wasn't Mother's Day or any other special day. 

Last night, he beat me up again. 

And it was much worse than all other times. 

If I leave him, what will I do? 

I'm afraid of him and scared to leave. 

But, I know he must be sorry, 

Because he sent me flowers today. 

I got flowers today. 

Today was a very special day. 

It was the day of my funeral. 

Last night, finally he killed me. 

He beat me to death. 

If only I had gathered enough courage, 

And strength to leave him. 

I would not have received flowers today. 

Echoes of Love: A Journey Through Memory and Loss

In the vibrant chaos of Chandni Chowk, Ishaan's world came to a standstill as he caught sight of a familiar kulfi vendor. Instantly, memories flooded his mind like an unstoppable tide, taking him back to the moment when his life changed forever.

It was amidst the bustling crowd of Chandni Chowk that Ishaan first laid eyes on her - Zoya, a vision in green, her eyes adorned with kajal, her laughter echoing amidst the chaos. Enthralled by her presence, Ishaan followed her, a silent spectator to the unfolding of fate's design.

He watched as she vanished into the labyrinth of narrow alleys, her laughter a melody that lingered in his mind. Determined to know more, Ishaan followed her, tracing her steps until he stood before her doorstep, a silent witness to the beginning of their journey.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months as Ishaan and Zoya's love blossomed amidst the vibrant tapestry of Delhi's streets. They explored the city together, uncovering its hidden treasures and forging memories that would last a lifetime.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a flame, Zoya disappeared without a trace, leaving Ishaan adrift in a sea of uncertainty and despair. Frantic with worry, he searched for her, his heart heavy with longing and unanswered questions.

It was only after months of relentless pursuit that Ishaan finally found solace in the form of Zoya's friend, who revealed the devastating truth - Zoya was battling cancer, her condition deteriorating with each passing day.

Heartbroken yet undeterred, Ishaan sought out Zoya, determined to stand by her side in her darkest hour. In the sterile confines of a hospital room, he found her - frail and fragile, yet radiating a quiet strength that stirred his soul.

With trembling hands and tear-filled eyes, Ishaan poured out his heart to Zoya, promising to love her through sickness and health, to cherish her for all eternity. And in that moment of vulnerability and raw emotion, Zoya found solace in his unwavering devotion, agreeing to marry him despite the societal barriers that threatened to tear them apart.

Their union, born of love's defiance against the constraints of society, faced its share of challenges. Both families, entrenched in tradition and prejudice, turned their backs on the couple, unable to accept their interfaith marriage.

Yet, in the face of adversity, Ishaan and Zoya found strength in each other, their love serving as a beacon of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume them. Together, they forged a new path, guided by the light of their shared dreams and unwavering commitment to each other.

Years passed, marked by moments of joy and sorrow, laughter and tears. And as Ishaan stood in the bustling streets of Chandni Chowk, the weight of his memories heavy upon his heart, he was jolted back to the present by the sweet voice of his daughter, Noor.

"Daddy, can we buy a green garara?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

With a smile, Ishaan lifted Noor into his arms, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for the precious gift that Zoya had left behind. Together, they walked towards the shop, their hearts intertwined in a bond that transcended time and space, a testament to the enduring power of love.