The Ecstasy of Letter Writing + A Letter Was Received (Poems)

With the letters that I wrote 

I put heartfelt words in a quote 

Dear friends & family, near & dear

I hope these letters bring you good cheer

From stickers & cut-outs of magazines

I create art with ribbons in between

Folding it, I place it in an envelope,

Wishing this also helps you'll cope

I think of the journey this letter will take

Perhaps across streets, vehicles, seas & lakes

I scribble on the addresses

And forget all of my stresses

Finally, the stamp I then place

Thinking of the smile on your face

I take a long walk to the post office

Handing the letters, I am so glad that I'm delirious

Post Script: 

This was a unforeseen surprise I got few hours after I published and shared my initial poem. 

This poem written by one of my good friends, Rishabh Jaiswal, was inspired by the above poem that I wrote. These two poems are like two sides of a coin, in the way it highlights perspectives of the letter writer and the letter receiver, which I found so profound that I just needed to publish this as well. Like a sequel to my poem.

Following is the poem he wrote back to me: 

"A Letter was received"

By Rishabh Jaiswal

I received a letter, a friend wrote to me

And the words in it sent me in a state of glee

I had many things to do, but I didn't pay them heed

I left everything aside just to give it a read

O! the magic in her words, nothing could be better

The letter she wrote to me is about writing a letter.

Paradox

Clothes that do no clothe,
Friends that make you feel alone
Bored with so much to do

Filled pockets, empty souls
Fake originals, true lies
How can we celebrate nature using radioactive metallic rectangles?

It's pretty sad and messed up
But I should know
Tears are shed only for attention sometimes

Don't point out at me
I weep in solitude
And so does my heart soar when I'm alone
Because no one knows happiness anymore

Social media that makes us unsocial
Bodies that tire doing nothing
Beautiful faces everywhere but rarely any beautiful souls

Every man in a suit,
But not one gentleman
Freedom in chains, selfish charity

Are these the days they hoped for us?
Out of prisons into new ones
Out of love into hate
"It's my life, I'll do what I want to", they say
And then return to carry on in bondage

Papers are fine, hands are cut
God is ridiculed but darkness is "cool"
Society is absurd I say
This paradox that has been accepted as "normal"

Originally Published in the Andrannual 2016-2017

Escape

-Written by Christalle Fernandes

Today, my English professor was talking about connotations attached to words, and the way the meaning of a word changes subtly in relation to every context. It made me think about one word in particular.

'Escape.' This word is always associated with an underlying negative meaning, like escape from something bad, something terrible, life-threatening etc. But there are times when I've wondered: What if I want to escape from all things good.

There are fleeting moments when I've allowed myself to consider this rather strange idea. Sometimes, even though things are running smoothly, and all's right with the world, I feel the need to escape.

To run away, to get away from it all. I suppose it has something to do with our very human limitations, the feeling of being 'tied' to this earth, and having to go through the routine motions of everyday life. Routine life just feels so mundane and stale sometimes, that I just feel like getting up and running away and going on an adventure and never looking back.

The very beauty of the earth itself makes me feel discouraged at times. That may sound strange, but hear me out. I look up and up into the blue expanse of the heavens, and then an irresistible urge to soar and fly comes over me. At these times especially, escape seems like it's just within my reach, but not quite. And that's frustrating.

To fly high up, away from the ground,

To soar into the blue expanse and never look down.

But familiarity, routine, is what keeps me- what keeps most of us- going. Unfamiliarity is like a strange fruit, you want to taste it, but hold back from fear of being poisoned. Inevitably, even though we might soar above the ground in our dreams- we find ourselves firmly brought back to the ground by the normalcy of our daily lives. Whether this is a good, or a bad thing, is a debatable issue.

Dreams are what lift us above mundane realities, no matter how unrealistic they might be. And so, if that's what helps you to escape, then so be it.

I wonder how it would feel to lose my identity

To wander nameless, faceless, alone and free,

Lose myself in the crowd of surging humanity,

Running away from it all- and from being me.

Lost motive (poem)

Does he feel dead?

Does he feel scared?

Born amidst a race against time and yielding so little in return

Have you lost your touch?

Have you forgotten how to love yourself ?

Comparing your light with your brothers darkness is no way to live life

Hurting yourself so to make your brother a happy lad

No time to do these fairly odd small jobs, I say

I'll do it some other day

Not thoughtful enough to know that your everyday other work depends on these odd jobs

And so he has lost his motive

Will feel better someday (poem)

The sky is pink outside
You don't know what it feels like to be this way
But I'll feel better someday, I'll feel better someday
It's twilight, a time between noon and eve
You don't know what it's like to be in the middle
To both believe and grieve
It's so hard to accept the dim image I see in the mirror
Who I am and who I want to be
But I'll feel better someday, I'll be better someday
My heart has grown numb, I don't even feel anymore
It has gone through a lot compared to before
Yet it still beats fine
You don't understand what your unwanted advice
Had led me to give up so much of myself, a sacrifice
Just so that I'd end up alone again
With me being a stranger to myself
But I'll feel better someday
And I'll feel happy for me.