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Happy Summer 🌞



1st June, 2017

So officially, this was the last summer of school life and all I could think of was how I had so preciously planned a list of things to do in each summer that had passed by. This time it was all about reading a pile of books, to work on my mathematics, morning walks, evening sports, to go on a trip with cool friends and the first priority, holiday’s homework within the first week.

I’m the biggest failure at all the above things, but honestly, I feel happy for being the sloth I am, laying long in my bed, wasting time on internet and video games. Isn’t that what summer is all about? Dodging your monotonic schedule, sleeping till your parents get mad about it. The best parts have always been the visits my grandparents’ village, the countless jumps into the pond whose depths every old man had forbidden. The cricket matches with my cousins and childhood friends, the fear of bringing back the ball from the old shack of a haunted house.

Saving the coins from the little pocket money and paying for the broken windows. The never ending search of balls in grass. The protest on being stumped and accusing everyone to be the cheater, knowing perfectly well that you’re the one. I laugh a lot remembering each one of these things which now seem silly, but serve to be reminder of a child’s innocent games.

All those grandparent’s stories and lullaby gave us the best sleep. Sleeping in their lap and waking up in our bed. The way they made us finish our glass of milk and complete our meal, telling how the wicked witch kidnaps all those children who don’t eat.

For all those adventure, fun and love, nostalgia creeps up like a dirty liar whenever the thought of summer crosses my mind. “Happy summer holidays” 🌻

Musings

People and Relationships

So are people,you write them a paragraph.They end up texting you a cold emoji.

The friend you had met in commuter,radiates good vibes each time you meet.
And the highschool friend whom you had known for five,six or even more years; lives next boulevard.And you don’t get to see each other.That’s what it is about building bridges and creating craters .

~Kashif Imteyaz

Musings

The Enlightenment

“You know what man! No matter how high you hold your head up.How strong political affiliation you claim.How good looking,how rich or how sharp you consider yourself.I know you figure out things pretty well and work very precise. But life will hit you hard in your knees.You will be shaken to cores.And you will find yourself one man sailing in storm. You will go through the dusty pages of poety and relate it. Faith will crack in through your shallow soul and enter your black heart.You will fall in prayers and bow,cry and yell till it may swell your lungs. Then you will realise you ain’t a thing but just grain of sand.Let’s say well moulded.But couldn’t even sustain wind, rain,storm,tremors and a thousand things you are scared and insecure about. And then there’s a God,the superior,the merciful and the saviour and one day you will seek enlightment and mecry too.”

~Kashif Imteyaz

poems

The Masterpiece

With deepest love and dedication,
Like the Picasso’s carved collection.
Like the radiating colours on canvas
Yet an another masterpiece.

The spark in her eyes,a lake;
Maybe an ocean.
No man sailing,
Would dream of land and jewels

A fragrance such charismatic,
Driving a weary man in sand,
To an oasis,
Yet end up to illusions only.

A music such Melodious
No mozart could ever compose.
Yet a piece of poetry,
Sunk underneath dusty pages,
Taste like first monsoon rain
Each time you read.
~Kashif Imteyaz

poems

The Chase

Chase,run and hide
Wolf and the men behind
Hunt that rich skin
The bravest man wears over his shoulder.
That’s pride.

Wild and wildlings
Like the poisoned beautiful ivy
Wrapped to neck like snakes.

Who brings you flowers
And stab your eyes
Silence and black on funerals
Cunning handshakes and body of lies.

Photograph by @mohsinalam

diary

Happy Summer

1 June,2017

So officially this was last summer of school life. I had so preciously planned a list of things to do every time. Read a pile of books,work on my mathematics,morning walk,evening sports,go on trip with cool friends and the first priority, holidays homework within the first week. I’m biggest failure at all the above things. But honestly,i feel happy for being sloth,laying long in my bed.Wasting time on internet and video games. Summer is all about that,feeling refresh.Dodging the same boring schedule,sleeping till your parents get mad about.The best parts are visiting my grandparents village,the countless jump into the pond whose dept every old man had forbidden. Those cricket matches with my cousins and childhood friends,the fear of bringing back ball from old,broken and haunted house.Saving the coins from the little pocket money and paying the cost for hitting it there.The never finding search of balls in grass.The protest on being stumped and accusing everyone to be cheater,knowing that you’re the one.We laugh a lot remembering those stupid things. All those grandparent’s stories and lullaby gave us the best sleep.Sleeping in their lap and waking up in our bed.The way they made us finish our glass of milk and complete our meal,telling how the wicked witch kidnaps all those children who don’t eat. For all those adventure,fun and love,nostalgia creep up like a dirty lier whenever the thoughts cross my mind. “Happy summer holidays” 🌻

Short stories

The Dried Petals

It was the last continuation party. We raised toast to the amazing four years of togetherness. Soon, we were all going to lead our separate ways, carrying sweet memories that will be etched forever in our hearts for the rest of our lives. Memories that will be the best companions in lonliness. It felt so scary, leaving behind parts of our hearts and souls in that place. Holding the photograph, nostalgia crept up like a dirty liar. Everything seemed so different for that one day. The girls whose bitching echoed off the corridor walls were crying, the boys who shared different squads; bullying each other, were now suddenly hugging. It was the feeling, the moment when your eyes and heart both bleed. You don’t realise the worth of the things you have, till its time to say goodbye. All you ever wish is to go back there and live it all again even for once.

It was ‘sovereign light cafe’ mixed with some piano notes played in the background. He looked around. A beautiful black dress caught his attention and the girl, well, she caught him off gaurd.

And he was taken aback, to that one morning he clearly remembers. How she had said it in a far away voice “I dreamt, I was in a black dress and you in a tux. I had the best dance with you.” And also his answer to her imagination, “Dreams that we see in the last hour of the night, they turn real.”

That was two years ago, the second year of college. They were to date each other until she stepped back all of a sudden. Since then it has been only small talk between them, to save the friendship.

Now there she was, standing out in the crowd at the mixer. She had developed a tanned and smooth face, and let her curly dark brown hair grow and fall on the sides beautifully.

She was coming closer, and he could feel his heart do a summersault. They both looked at each other for a moment or two and thats when her lips curled up in a smile. “Won’t you make my dream come true?”
“What do you mean?”He said it, trying his best to pretend he didn’t remember.

“That dream I had, one of those calls in the mornings?” She smirked.
You still remember them all?” He said in a challanging way, qestioning, in a manner, the unacknowledged space they had created since then.
“Well.. I… I do. Considering I dont have a weak memory.” And somehow she controlled the words her tounge could have uttered.

He raised his hand to hold hers and looking in each other eyes, they were now dancing.
The room slipped away somehow as they lost themselves in each other’s eyes. Two weary travellers resting at the oasis in desert. Two birds on a tree, listening to the waterfall. There wasn’t any music blending in their ears, just their heart beats and the fire in each other’s eyes, making even their souls dance. No words came out of their mouth, yet their eyes talked endlessly. And they knew that all was known in the sacredness of that silence.
“I feel like I’m dreaming it all again. Please don’t wake me up.” She said. Her eyes closed, tears rolling down her cheek.

“Why, you so cruel? Don’t ditch me like the others.” He said in low voice, exhaling his out fear. Her eyes were now getting red. They kissed, their lips apologizing for the lies they told, the pain and suffering they caused each other. That perfect moonlit night observed two true lovers. He walked with her all the way back home. They both made a wish seeing a shooting star that night. “Goodbye and do get some sleep, love. See you tomorrow.” She hugged him back. He only left the boulevard when she waved from her window, with a longing in her eyes.

That night, as he tossed and turned in bed, he knew he had fallen again. The whole evening kept playing inside his head. And how could one escape those beautiful thoughts? Krusha was the one whom he has always admired, the one he looked for in every girl he dated ever since. It was in the mid of second year, she started hanging with another boy, Akshit, whom she had known since a little earlier. The whole college gossiped about him being her first and only love. But that guy dumped her badly and accused the relationship as an attention seeking one. Since then, Harsh and Krusha did all to keep a distant friendship. Friend, bestfriend, stranger each role they had played. May be soulmates, now they were going to portray. He took out his phone happily and made a note. “28 Jan, 2035; 11:46 pm, Krusha, my first love.”

Krusha was so tired that night, she slept with the black dress and heels on. Next morning, she woke up to a text form Harsh. “Good morning to my first love. Last night was unbeliveable and now my most cherished moment. Will love you till our hair turn grey.”

Unmoved by the text, she took out her journal and the dried rose given by Akshit on their first date. Smelling the dried petals, she made an entry.

“29 Jan, 2035; 9:30 am.

It is eternal. I know I act like I moved on, but the noone can love me like you did. Forgive me for sometimes, I feel someone can fill the space you left behind. I will love you till my last breath, even if dont love me back.”
It seemed like she was addressing her feelings to a stone. And once more time, first love took over true love.

~Kashif Imteyaz