The Creatively Frustrated

Wave after wave hitting the jagged rocks, Spraying the salt water all over me, I lick my lips and taste the salt, I take a breath and smell your scent. Your presence besides me Makes my existence, My hand covered by yours, Says more than words ever can. Your eyes searching mine, Find the long lost answers Of love, of truth, of hope. Overwhelming emotions, Dampen my eyes and I look beyond the vast ocean, And whisper the words in my heart, For sure you know me inside out There’s no need to say it out loud. My heart is empty of all wishes, For it would follow your soul, Whether up as you flow with the wave, Or down as it recedes. Hollow before but not any more, For your laughter fills me, Your touch ignites a longing, And your love, an eternal solace .  By: Misha.

(This is a lengthy story based on actual facts. The final episode is here! For Episode 8 click here . Enjoy!) Episode 9 (Part – 1) Maheen is sitting behind her desk. Her skin is very pale almost yellow. Her eyes are sunken into their sockets. She is signing some papers. The veins on the top of her hand stand out against her skin like a blue spider web. Saima, the secretary, comes in looking rather irritated. “Madam there is a mad hijra outside. He is insisting on seeing you. He says that you know him. He tells his name as Laila.” “Send him in.” Maheen replies without looking up. Saima looks surprised. She walks out of the door. “You can go in.” Saima informs Bahadur. Bahadur claps once loudly, “Fitay moun!” He mocks her. Bahadur enters Maheen’s room and sits down in front of her. He is in his usual womanly attire of shalwar kameez with the duppatta dangling on his shoulders and make up plastered on his face. “Salalekum!” He greets Maheen. “Walaikumasalam. I don’t want you using suc...

It might sound strange to you but I imagine people as play dough’s. Impressionable. Everyone leaves a mark; some deep, some leave behind just their fingerprints, curving and looping, touching your soul just enough. And with every touch the dough alters it shape, adjusting, changing and shifting. We've all had our ups and downs. We've all experienced heart ache and limitless joy. All of it being the result of someone or something that interacted with us at some point in time. I ask you just one question. Had you been where you are right now, without that tragedy that makes you weep at night? Or without that accomplishment that compels you to hold your head high? You may not be at peace with yourself now, but we have this uncanny ability of ‘Acceptance’. Yes, accepting that what has happened; happened to make you who you are. Sculpting your very thoughts, making you, YOU.  I am nearing the end of one chapter and turning over a new page of my life. It’s akin to com...

Ever had that feeling when you wished that you could just run away? Spacing out into your own self created world can be quite handy at times. For instance, there are times when you just can’t bear the insistent ‘yak yakkity yak’ of that plump woman standing next to you in a queue. But you’re too polite to shove a sock down her throat. So, you create an imaginary world of which the details are so vivid and crisp, that to you it’s almost; almost real. The ‘yak yak’ is tuned out to subtle hum, barely noticeable. The frequent, automated nod of your head and the occasional ‘jee jee’ assures her that you are listening. Here, your ‘escape’ spares you a bad headache later on. Like I said, it’s handy. Let’s take a grimmer scenario. Sometimes it happens so that there is such an emotional turmoil within you, that the pain no longer just remains psychological but you feel it in your bones. This is when you prefer to ‘space out’. You recreate your happy events, something that made you truly, j...

That chilly air enveloped her, Caressing as lips on skin, From between the tendrils it flowed And whispered in the deep confines. Strolling towards that frozen sun, The water licked her toes, Orange hues and shades of blue Beckoned, she wanted more. Thigh high the liquid pierced her skin, Her clothes a transparent halo, Fading warmth and numbness grew, Yet she strolled deeper still. With finger tips she teased the water As emerging ripples echoed The tiny tides gave birth to suns On that eerie icy lake. Breast deep, her breath came shallow, She knew not how to swim Yet eyes fixated on that fiery globe Burned to cure what has been wasted. Transfixed, she sighed, It was when the sun gave day to night, In the lake where dawn was a fiction, Where her truth softly wept. Her mouth, gasping, pale and wet, The water intruded her throat, It was just her and the half dome of light, Let the sun shine a light on her. (Photography and poetry by Misha.)

(This is a lengthy story based on actual facts. Episodes will be posted over a span of a few weeks. There are going to be NINE episodes in total. For Episode 3 click here . Enjoy!) [Pssst… Apologies for such a delay in the post. Exams are around the corner, scavenging on my brain.] Episode 4 Bahadur walks into his home like a zombie. He stands there at the door, watching his mother and sisters. No one notices that he has returned. “Bahadur! When did you arrive?” Amma asks. Bahadur just stares at her as if he’s gone deaf. His mouth is slightly open. His face shows no emotion. “Bahadur…?” “Uh… Yes… Yes I just came. Where’s Abba?” “He hasn’t come back yet. He’ll be late.” Amma goes towards the stove and stir’s the pot. A gush of steam makes eerie faces in the air. Bahadur sits on the charpoy and Baji brings him a glass of water. She sits beside him while he drinks. “What happened?” She whispers. “Nothing happened.” He whispers back. “Don’t lie to me! You look like you’ve seen a ghost. D...

Booked history. Meant to learn from ? You DO realise that you always end up on the wrong front. Redeemed faith, love. Falter again. You're fucked up. Dont feel bad. Its just you. Dang. How. I ask, what number will you test ? Yeah, just step on them. Have a damn fest. Your levels have dropped to unseen depths, How'd you be sought ? Death. So, just sketch on the dirt beneath you. You dont give a damn, like you'd feel bad if it cheats you. Wild smile. All your masks lay in front. Pick one ? Clown another. Soulless mortals, almost inaudible. Heh. Blame ! It cannot be you. Wild smile. Hysteria ? Bleed it out. So. You count rocks around. Yeah, fiddle with them. They are diamonds, you fool. Not a crap mound. Cry it out again. Its not like things would ever differ. The mirror people would over power you. Suffer. Laugh out loud. Laugh it out. Press hard. Clenched fist, open it. Fine, untampered dirt. Bowed head. Sway away. Maaz Tanveer.

(This is a lengthy story based on actual facts. Episodes will be posted over a span of a few weeks. There are going to be NINE episodes in total. For Episode 2 click here . Enjoy!) Episode 3 It’s the wedding day. Maheen is sitting in her room, in her gorgeous rust colored lainga . The top has no back only straps, which bind it together. She is arranging her hair. When she is done, she stands up, examines herself one more time in the full length mirror. She is more than satisfied with the reflection. She strolls towards Eemaan’s room, knocks on the door and enters. Eemaan is sitting on her bed. Maheen sucks her breath in at the sight of her. She is adorned in a traditional blood red sharara . Precious stones are embroidered on her dress in intricate flowery patterns. “You look absolutely beautiful.” Says, a gawking, Maheen. “Are you sure I look ok? Because I think the man who did my make up over did my eyes. And I don’t think my lipsticks color matches my dress. And the dress, do you ...

Click on the image to enlarge and to read the poetry.

Half past twelve Can you see yourself? Half lit faces Incomplete stories surround Half hearted smiles Can you pick one to wear? Half and a quarter It should cease to matter

Turmoil and confusion Is in my heart, in my soul, Is this all an illusion? My fantasies gaping hole? Oh how I’m torn apart With the guilt that is within me How long will we last Against my deceiving heart’s decree!? This is not me but the devil Who lures me to lust, My heart longs a sin, a betrayal Of their forgotten trust. Half a decade gone and lost, Words spoken but not said, Lies, deceit, deception And false love declared. (P.S: A poem that i wrote waaay back!)

I narrate a story, Of a girl who bathes in glory. Paving her way through the dunes, She loves things that are in tune. Breaking out every day, She feels a need to sing An unsung song, Lyrics in a jumble and alphabets flown, On the top of her lungs, As the globe around her hums, She gathers herself, insight and wisdom, Sketching the roots from which they stem. Straining her eyes, she wonders why The flora seems so dry, And the objects so shrunken, A delusion and no more, she refutes it to be heaven. A slight tilt of the chin, Is the closest that she comes to being grim. A cursory glance, Tip-toed; in a trance. There’s a grace about her, as she moves Poised, fitting all the grooves. She is made for the ball, they say Within her own circle, she likes to sway. Why then, her eyes radiate No more, as they did before? The lights have moved out, the stars glow No more, as they did before. Soul searching, she goes out for, In the outlook is, all that she ador...

Rows and rows of memories, Stacked together and tucked away, A few neatly, the rest in haste, Its just a thing of past anyway! An idle mind browses through, The young leading to the old, ‘Handle with care.’ Said one dusty volume, And my curiosity was easily sold. The pages yellowed and cracking, It started with a steady hand, Curving and looping the letters linked, ‘Once upon a time,” the writer began. Living and dying with the words, Time lost all grip and slipped a decade, Gliding and slithering as if in a ballet, Enslaving. The scripture danced. Just before the final chapter, Just before the terminus, As untouched as a virgin The leaflets were empty, vacous! Page after page they were turned, Longing to find an end, Old and yellow, the blank parchments, Have no ‘Happy ever after’ to be told. Rows and rows of memories, Stacked together and tucked away, A few neatly, the rest in haste, Conclude what you want, say what you may. (P.S: It still feels a bit incomplete. Cant figure ...

It’s funny how we don’t look like us upside down. I saw a friend’s picture on facebook and that is what I thought and all the other times I lay down and look at my friends from that angle. We look like a different us. And the other day when it rained and I went out to look for objects to photograph, I saw a flower that fell in an upturned way. With the pretty side down and the stem projecting in the air, standing tall. And I stared at how unusual it looked. Not like itself. Different, you know? Weird how life is making me look at things upside down when I want to straighten it out so bad. Then my friend goes on and says. I look like me, backways, sideways, upside down, downside up and everything. She emphasized on the ME. And I give it a moment and think, that’s right. We do look different, but its still us. But didn’t I already say that? A different us..

To be on another level of understanding self, is like a whole new world requiring an era of exploration. Its like seeing a spectrum of light that wasn't visible before, that isn't visible to anyone else. It demands a certain amount of isolation. And sometimes that loneliness suffocates you. Its tempting to run back to the old you, a lesser being that was on common ground with everyones else. Doesn't sympathy sound soothing to the spirit? But change evolves you, its as unavoidable as breathing. Losses occur on both sides naturally, but the gains are the keep sakes. Although, it depends entirely on you; whether you let it consume you or let it make you stronger.

The blank page haunts, Begs a consumation, The blinking cursor taunts, Extorts confessions from me. Red hued ink blazed then fades, Uncountable sheets scribbled upon, Utterances, like stabbing blades Knew; there's no ink left in me.

Freeze. A second, a moment, A memory, a glimpse. An experience, exquisite, A feeling, undefined. Ecstasy to the fullest, An almost nirvana. Freeze it wont you? A moment in time, Before abandoned, forgotten. Its but only desired, For a lifetime.

Scores of knots tightly interlaced, Clogging the mind and jamming the thoughts. Pulling out small loops day after day, Vain attempts they seem, I must say Existence brimmed with crooked puzzles, Thoughts to escort, yet unaccompanied Silent words and hushed sobs Crafting their way to a boulevard Misty views diffusing throughout Blunt images overshadowing reason Is this a trap? Or a trance Moving in circles; trying to find an end. A step forward and there’s a dread No support and I descend Face down, the ground is less distant The scent of dirt, flickers the senses Jagged rocks pierce the skin Knees raw and elbows skinned I try to regain my stability, but screw GRAVITY! Fighting against it, I regain my posture Still wavering, but on two feet again I continue my path of untying, The scores of knots clogging the mind.

Words betray me Abandoning in the time Of their need Thoughts escape Unfaithful thoughts, evaporate I panic Memories, sweet memories Please come rushing back I need to recall I have to narrate Emotional blackmail Whatever it takes I can beg I can plead Just don't walk away From us From me Give me a minute A minute in exchange of years For I have to search Words, thoughts and memories I grope I grab But they slip Evading my lips I am trying Wait Listen Today cursed, I am Tongue tied, I hear His rationalizations His justifications Babbling Mumbling And then foot steps Foot steps-The last sound of his To echo And it will Forever In moments of my unforgivable silence

At the edge of a vertical cliff, She stands tall, Wind playing havoc with her hair, Arms outstretched, Emotions tugging, pulling, wrenching. A whirlpool. There is a strange serenity, dead calm, before A violent storm. A lone eagle circles over head, Below abyss. Inflating the lungs and arching her back, Scents of earth, A part of her now, conversed. Yearning lust. Adrenaline, burning vehemence, She longed. She faces her fate, bold. A smirk, As if laughing at its face. Steadily, A deep breath. On her toes now, inclining, She jumps! Plummeting, the wind screams for her, Ecstasy. The eagle eyes her curiously, Falling still, The sun burns in protest. A little further, Mimicking a statue in mid air, Almost there, And behold! She soars! Above the eagle, above the clouds, Serenity. At peace. At last.