Caught in a web of illusion

What is the difference between you and I?

You smile for pictures, and I, at passerbys.

You swipe through filters finding the perfect one, ah the pain.

I enjoy the dusk sky, sepia like your filters, sitting by the window pane.

You seek picturesque spots for your latest #weekend posts,

Small book cafes, with 4 chairs, chai and poetry is where you will find me the most.

You flaunt your latest dress and await comments and praises,

I share it with my loved ones, and soak in the warmth of joy on their faces.

Your snaps may last for 10 seconds and then poof, they’ll vanish,

My memories will last forever, in my heart they’ll flourish.

Your vacation was spent looking for perfect angles for pictures each,

I spent mine listening to waves on the beach.

Your thoughts are limited by 140 characters

Mine flow like a river, as I spill my heart out on a paper.

Your conversations are restricted to pleasantries,

My midnight chats hover around life, love and poetry.

Your joy is out there for the world to see, but sorrow is confined to your heart

For in your friend list of 1000, to find a real friend, where do you start?

People may shower you with their likes,

Will they show up when you walk through life’s spikes?

You get entangled in this web of trying to live for the netizens,

While I, seek ideas and people that broaden my horizons.

(C) Sneha Pathak

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A rainy evening

Slow soft drizzle of first showers,

As the water slides down the towers.

Kids on the street rejoice in rain,

For some, the raindrops help hide the tears of pain.

A couple walks hand in hand, recreating a romantic scene

Someone sits by the window, wondering what could have been.

Some enjoy the fresh smell of petrichor

Some sigh and worry how this will hamper their chores.

Some go for a drive to feel the wind on their face

Some push through crowded platforms, with an umbrella that has seen better days.

Some enjoy the lighting as the skies get dark

Others wonder, next day how to get to work?

Indifferent to them all, the raindrops continue to fall

For nature doesn’t distinguish amongst them all.

(C) Sneha Pathak

Oceans apart

Tapping rains on window sill

As I lay there still.

Listening to the rhythmic tap

As the summer sun gleams on other side of the map.

We try to defy time and sleep

We laugh, we ponder, we bicker, we weep.

Different skies, oceans apart

But with you, my heart did depart.

So we carve a space for us two,

Somewhere between where nights end and days start anew.

I leave this verse just at these few lines,

And I fall asleep thinking of golden times.

(C) sneha pathak

All is fair, for love is war

We are skillful fighters,

You and I.

Our weapon of choice?

Knife-like words of ice.

We hide behind promises of love eternal,

Masking skillfully, the venom internal.

We take oaths of a love so pure,

We then inflict wounds, that have no cure.

For when the healer poisons your medicine,

Where do you go to recover from that ailment obscene?

So we wait for death, as we fatigued lie.

We are skillful fighters,

You and I.

After the war, we swear allegiance to each other

After so many battles, shouldn’t we know better?

These treaties are a disguise,

To keep the enemy close, the one we despise.

That way, we can attack them in their sleep,

We can shower them with love, then make them weep.

We can poke swords where it hurts the most,

After we have known their secrets innermost.

For betrayal has a sweet taste,

A slow hunt, not one of haste.

For our desire for mutual self-destruction keeps us tied.

We are skillful fighters,

You and I.

We have pierced each other’s souls now

Taking away hope, filling it with sorrow.

Yet, we never leave,

For this is love, we believe.

Even as we lie under different skies,

Yet again tears filling up our eyes,

We never say our goodbyes

For we are skillful fighters,

You and I.

 

© Sneha Pathak [Rights Reserved]

The cruel side of beauty

As I walked through the maze of wealth and power,

Glancing through screams trapped in glass cases.

Ivory, they called it.

Cruelty, I knew it.

My eyes marveled at the beauty of the sculptures

My mind, however, questioned this culture.

One where we take something

That in its nature is beautiful without interference

And destroy it to create something of relevance.

This ivory from those creatures innocent,

Stolen from them for our merriment.

They took Gods gift, in its form primal

And hit it repeatedly to make a stone idol.

An idol of worship, nevertheless

But humanity was lost in the process.

Now when I see these works of art,

I will see the creatures, at the very  start

When people hear prayers and hymns,

I will hear the pain and screams.

 

© Sneha P [Rights Reserved 2019]

 

 

 

Moments of Bliss

Soft lapping of waves on the beach,

Crisp winds whispering secrets each.

The sound of crisp paper being turned,

Blissful moments on the porch, very dearly earned.

The soft texture of grass under your feet,

The warm taste of hot chocolate on a winter night, oh so sweet.

The crackling of paper as you unwrap a present,

The fresh blooming primrose and their beckoning scent.

Waking up to mornings with hot tea and someone to hold close,

Cold evenings and warm winter clothes.

A few moments of bliss to count on your finger tips,

Of poetry like this, rolling off your lips.

 

(c) Sneha P [Rights Reserved]

A tale of two crimes

I once heard of a tale,

A man who killed his neighbor,

And stole all the fruits of his labor.

It made me weep with sorrow,

What will happen of this cruel society tomorrow?

 

I once sat upon my window sill,

I saw an act of nature, if you will.

A pigeon toiled day and night to make its nest in my window,

And once when his eggs lay in the nest, came a crow.

Nonchalantly it took the eggs with it

and began to take apart the twigs for his own nest, ah the wit!

I thought no further of this act,

Until one day I began to wonder,

How the man and the crow, their acts were not very different.

Perhaps one had a conscience, the other was indifferent.

 

– Sneha Pathak