writer

Excuses

I need some air.
I need some space.
I need to go.

Though the
sentences are different.
But they all mean the same.
They’re just.

Excuses to leave.
Excuses to run away.
Excuses to break a heart.

-Abhishek Gupta.

Privileged

He took the first
Bite of his food,
And threw it away
Exclaiming how
tasteless it was.

A rag picker, later,
picked it up and ate it.
How satiated,
he looked,
while eating,
like it was
the tastiest food
he ever had.

Not everyone is
as privileged
as you are.

-Abhishek Gupta.

Gentleman

When you shave that beard,
it doesn’t lessen your masculinity.
Beard or not, masculinity lies
in the way you treat others.

If you think belittling others,
Makes you more masculine,
Then, my friend, you’re wrong.

‘Cause my parents have
taught me that being a
gentleman is the most
Masculine feature a
man can ever have.

-Abhishek Gupta.

It still hurts

I was doing fine.
I was on my way
To find bliss, again.

But then,
You came back.
Of Course,
in my memories.

It kills me.
Every time,
I think of you.

It still hurts, the same,
Like it did, when you
broke my heart.

It’s just that,
I don’t talk about it, anymore.
So now, no one can see it.

-Abhishek Gupta.

Halloween

We wear masks
to hide our faces
In Halloween.

But the truth is,
Those masks
of foul creatures
Doesn’t hide
our faces, but,
Unveils the
real ones.

-Halloween.

-Abhishek Gupta.

Breeze.

Like a gentle breeze.
You came into my life.
When you touched me.
I felt, that sense of peace.

Then you left, and,
I stood there, and,
My heart ached.

But, the mistake was mine.
For I should’ve known.

It’s not in the
nature of breeze,
To stay at one place,
It always flees.

-Abhishek Gupta.

Drowning.

It fills my heart with joy,
When I see my friends,
Succeeding in life.
It fills my heart with pride,
When I see my friends,
Winning in life.
But, it would be a lie,
That I feel joyous, all the time,
For, the truth is, I don’t.
I don’t lie, for I can’t,
I’m not happy, not because,
I see people living their dreams,
But, because, I see, myself,
Still standing, at the same place,
where I stood, a year ago,
and have moved a step, ahead.
And It’s filling my heart with glum,
But all I do is,
try to wipe the sadness away,
By drowning my night,
in a bottle of rum.

-Tired.

-Abhishek Gupta.

खुशी।

बस एक छलावा है खुशी।
आज है ये और कल नहीं।
गम ही रहा है एक सच्चा हमसफ़र।
क्युकी एक जगह कभी ना ठहर पाती ये खुशी।
-अभिषेक गुप्ता।

Depression.

Depression is not sadness. Stop considering it as one. It fucks you up from inside. If it has taken lives of people like Robin Williams, Chris Cornell and Chester Bennington, then it’s pretty darn real. Stop saying this “If you’re depressed, talk”. YOU SHOULD GO AND TALK TO THEM. If you feel someone is depressed. Go and talk to them. Don’t wait for them to come and talk to you. They might not. Help them.

– Depression kills.

– Abhishek Gupta.

O Captain! My Captain!

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!O the bleeding drops of red,Where on the deck my Captain lies,Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here captain! dear father!This arm beneath your head;It is some dream that on the deck,You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!But I, with mournful tread,Walk the deck my captain lies,Fallen cold and dead.

-Walt Whitman.