Fall

Fall of leaves and hopes

When I was younger

A walk in the park, in fall evenings

Crisp cool wind and the golden glow before the sunset

Illuminating the glass windows of tall buildings

And auburn leaves falling all around me,

Were enough to make me smile wide.

I’d imagine I was in a movie

And feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

I’d hope to stumble into

My celebrity crush on the streets

And dream of walking Paris streets.

I would dream of growing up

Of having the freedom to go where I’d like

To pursue my heart’s calling and

Live however I liked.

Foolish dreams made of stardust and hope,

Swept away like fallen autumn leaves

By the merciless rake of adulthood and more.

Now I walk the streets, and feel the wind against my chest,

But my preoccupied mind and unobservant eyes

Ignore the wind, the leaves and the sunset.

I have the freedom, but I am confined.

I can go where I want, in theory

But I can’t take that first step, not today, not really.

For things need to be done, bills need to be paid,

People have to be pleased and deadlines have to be met.

Too afraid to take a chance,

I continue this monotonous dance.

The onset of autumn brings along memories

Of a golden time that made me beam.

But I can no longer feel it, for I lost my ability to dream.

(C) Sneha Pathak

Who do you want to be today?

Who do you want to be today?

The possibilities are endless

Do you want to be the best writer out there

Or pretend to be someone who just doesnt care?

Do you want to finally clean up the house

Or do you want be the most loving spouse?

An ideal daughter, calling and looking after her parents

Or become the life of the party at every event?

Do you want to improve your skills and knowledge

Or do you want to leave your boring life, and pursue your dream of being on the stage?

Do you want to run away to the beach and have a vacation?

Or excel at your job, battle for that promotion?

Do you want to pick up a new language, just because

Or do you want just sit back and take a pause?

So many possible turns this day could tak

So many choices, all yours to choose and make.

Each day you feel like a new world of opportunities and choices has opened up, changing the game

Each day, however ends up being the same.

Just as your New year, new me resolutions vanished into thin air

What were they anyway, do you even remember or care?

So whoever you decide to be today,

Come tomorrow, you will forget about it and go down some other way.

(C) Sneha Pathak

At least you tried

The skies cry

Cleansing the city.

Or at least trying to.

The mother sings a lullaby,

Hungry child in arms,

Hoping for him to fall asleep

To avoid hunger, or at least try to.

The girl scribbles in her journal

Letting out the demons, the pain and the loneliness

She tries to forget how hurtful words can be, how cruel, how tormenting

At least she tries to.

The man returns home drenched

Weary of another day of grind,

He smiles a warm smile for his dying wife.

At least he tries to.

They try and try,

In the muddy swamp

To find a way.

For hope I was told,

Can only be produced

Never bought and sold.

Never borrowed or lent

It can be revived, even if out of shape.

Or so they say.

I wrote this poem

To talk of futile hope and optimism

At least I tried to.

(C) Sneha Pathak

The perfect couple

Pretty as a picture

Their life seems so rosy

To the world outside

They seem to be living warm and cozy.

For the music at their parties

Drowns out the screams

Their smiles are so perfect and dazzling

No one seems to guess

The reality so very troubling.

For they play the perfect couple

Of martial life, beautiful without a ripple.

But the storm underneath they manage to conceal

Their tired, swollen eyes, they give away how they really feel.

The scars on their body

Well hidden my seams

The scars on their heart

Well what of them?

For they follow the whims of their heart,

They had promised to stick together

Till death do them apart.

(C) Sneha Pathak

Letters to those who hurt me

I write a letter.

Several letters, one for each

Set of eyes that made mine overflow with tears.

One for the teacher

Who castigated me for years.

One for each bully

Who picked on me when I was weaker.

One for the friend

Who let me down in my time of need.

One for the aunty

Who broke down my self esteem.

One for the nameless relative

Who questioned my life choices.

One for the colleague

Who backstabbed me without cause.

One for the lover

Who made me cry every night

I pour my heart into these papers

Hoping it would make me feel lighter.

Telling these people off,

For all the times they hurt me carelessly.

Words spoken, cruelly and hastily.

And I write one final one

For the girl who writes these letters.

One to thank her,

For because of her pain, I became better.

I thank her for being patient

For pulling herself together

For braving through stormy weather.

I am the product of her endeavour

Of her courage, and her fear.

Where would she be

Without these experiences?

They moulded her,

And she moulded me.

I tear up the other letters

And keep just the one

I rise, like a Phoenix

As I watch the other letters burn.

(C) Sneha Pathak

Your momentary mediocrity

Today you woke up

Perfectly ready to conquer the world

Be the best version of yourself and to shine unparalleled.

But as the moments trickle away

You decide to be mediocre instead.

For today is such an ordinary day

People keeping their heads down, going their way.

The breakfast is the same as always

The coffee is just regular

The commute to your 9 to 5 is exasperating, as usual.

The different faces you see each day,

Are still the same, sheeps with their heads down, going one way.

How supremely better am I than this kind

Wonders your potentially exquisite mind.

The world doesn’t feel ready

To witness your potential today.

So you work ordinarily

No less no more than the day before.

You make small talk with your coworker

You wanted to the conversation to sparkle some more

However why waste your knowledge and skills on this ordinary being?

So you indulge in those meaningless moments fleeting.

You go about the day, like the sand on the beach

Pushed around by waves, back and forth

Without any sense of self worth.

You write a poem, a simple ordinary verse

Avoiding depth of thought and talking superficially about the universe.

For the exemplary work of art you can create in a moment

Isn’t ready to be shown yet to these masses, who can’t comment.

It will go unnoticed, unadmired

For their little minds can’t appreciate your genius if they tried.

So you live in mediocrity, ignorant and at bliss

For today too, a day has gone by

And the opportunity is missed.

But you know today wasn’t the day to be better and to live upto your capacity.

So today, again, you settle in your perpetual mediocrity.

(C) Sneha Pathak

She wants to be the star

She wanted to be like the stars

Not for the way they sparkled

Even in the darkest nights

Not for the joy

They bought to people’s eyes.

Neither for their omniscience

Nor for their luminance.

She wanted to be like the stars

For they were indifferent

To the opinions of the humans.

They shined bright,

Positively assured in their own right.

To see them in a dark, cloudy sky

To really see them true and clear,

One needs to travel to the mountains

Climb high and up, keeping aside fear.

Only those deserve to see them,

Who take the effort and pain.

For a starry sky, is not just beautifully vain.

She wants to be mystical

Like the stars that make you wonder

About the magnitude of the universe

Of your life and purpose.

She wants to make you think about existence,

She wants to talk to you, of life and its essence.

She doesn’t want to be a passing notion,

She wants to be the thought that keeps you up all night

Of questions that make you reach higher

For answers that are not easily found

She wants to be a star,

Not to make your wishes come true

But to stand apart from the crowd

To be born each night anew.

(C) Sneha Pathak