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The End.

Vartika Hada
 The End. © 2022 Vartika Hada
All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be

reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form or by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise, without the prior
written permission of the presenters.

Vartika Hada asserts the moral right to be

identified as author of this work.

Presentation by BookLeaf Publishing

Web: www.bookleafpub.com
E-mail: info@bookleafpub.com

ISBN: 9789357692373
First edition 2022
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
I would like to thank Bookleaf Publishing for
giving me an opportunity to publish my work.
My friends and family who've always known
that I could do more creatively with all the ideas
floating in my head, and to nameless strangers
who've appreciated and critiqued my poems I
thank you.
 PREFACE
I've always loved the ending, or at least intrigued
by the idea of the end. Whatever I've written in
past few years this concept has made me look
into things in a different way. Maybe we find
happiness in a make believe world not so far
away. Maybe happiness isn't locked in cold
chambers.
 I look into the mirror
I look into the mirror and see
swirls of ocean behind me
one step forward, two steps behind
I'm ashamed of who I am
what I have become now

It's a test of time, they say

fortune hits the grieving
consoles the dreading
and happiest are the persons
not looking into the mirror

Let me find someone so conscious

so dreadful, so feared
by gods of this sphere,
their voice a hundred times better
than the echoes I make to
the rivers ungrafting, unhooking
and mending the ways ahead
of blissful calamity

1
 The lost story

Paper boats don't float in sea

they glide as winds take them
from places to places
it's a guide to all injured men
shipwrecked with twenty survivors
but no mouth to feed

As night prospered
the sky shimmered
a lone watcher looking into the future
seemingly passionate about words
carried by wayward ocean
But not by the lost bottle

Day turned to night

the stars losing their light
members of graveyard have gathered
each holding a compass
another a misnomer
but deep, dark waters don't collect
the remnants of mortal men

2
 Scars

I thought scars are a key to stories

that we tell our children to bed
to commemorate winning battles
and medals of honour decorated in the corner

what if I told you

it comes with a shame
of the pain we hide
when I wasn't feeling myself
it celebrates nothing but time
and distance from a famous sight

3
 He sits sombre

He sits sombre, beware

his eyes are on something
a treacherous rumbling,
so he hums and repeats
he laughs like the usual,
so I dream
Who's this creature?
In dark and light he unwavers
his words are golden,
I slip away from the crowd
his old man charm befits the crown.

4
 I walk lonely on the street

I walk lonely on the street

to see shadows forming,
gnawing
at emulsions and subverting me
from the path of danger.
once it made me tinker
twice I shivered.

My jacket and bag held close

Too close in this river and storm
from an ageless man and child
stood and whispered
words of longing, whispers singing in my ears
darkness surrounds me,
tales of twiddled truths, bare necessities
a fact oblivious and at the edge stood
an unwise grim reaper-
he held too many stones that were
theories of theologians and scientists
and they too
knocking on the door of Universe
begging for mercy like me.

5
 Indian summer

Clouds float against the kites

of colours blue and white
under a scorching sun
fears reduced to atoms of joy and mirth.

Of empty roads and yellow sands

an Urchin whisteling a happy tune
his friends gather by penny in hands
sweat faced
to play and shout and whisper.

Men with their cards, wives with their remedies

the heat too much, staying inside despite
jealousy
their kid ruckus much, nothing to do
but summers bring them wishes
no one would ever lose.

6
 To a sick wife

Moss on the wall grows

Dampens the very growth
Windows remain closed,
The wall between us stays tall.

Let the daylight in I plead

Let the atmosphere in, there's so much to see
What if I bring the stars and moon to your room
Will you come out soon?
Soon is a hazy trait to time,
But when the clock stops to chime,
The hands on the machine slow
Each walking step a danger to my soul
Come out darling, come see the show
The children are out and about,
The youth is just like we'd talked
My patience dissipates, the veins on your face
strong
The red on your cheeks is the aching sign of
withdrawal
Nothing fazes you anymore

7
 Where has the aesthetic
gone?

Where has the aesthetic gone?

Sure copying makes art,
and beige replaced yellow
The tile pattern, the drapes,
The faded lines on remnants express
take you to empty spaces.
They sing about forgotten pirates,
The mesmerizing siren
Puzzles of charisma tests
Passion of decimated men
Stuck in the lair
Of their own faces
Trapped in mirrors,
In paintings, in scenary
Outside- how am I to know?

Where has the aesthetic gone?

It's mass produced
Without emotional profuse
It's monochromatic
Sometimes revives the old and the bold
techniques
Where am I to find a place of beauty?

8
Beauty lies in symmetry,
In open space and lush green view
History of birds and branches
Just look at the pond
Sit and find the meaning of cosmos.

We were thousand years ahead,

Discovered quarks, conquered sharks
Yet not done with romanticising the past
Where beauty was celebrated
In silence, in mystery
woven in secrets of history
Where mistress hids the key to understanding,
And silver clanks against defeat
And thievery of benign
Beauty must be a curse
Make it devoid of colours
Fetter it in the name of god
it cannot escape the crown.

9
 Genesis

The devil has a role to play

Sits atop wondering, how things are going to fall
He rolls the dice on a chessboard
But the pawns are in the hands of God.
He wished for trident in hidden surprises
He hides in the well of tragic surmises
Poking heads, against His word
One equation before a trial
He wonders for too long,
Keeps wondering, wondering
And establishes himself a role of Pope,
To keep the mobs quiet, to ensure survival
God is busy sleeping dreaming of Eden
How benefits befell at the hands of men
How rib is carved from the chest of man
How fair can this genesis be
When justice is delivered by a blind woman.

10
 Forgotten name

Why would he sit alone in dark?

Burning the CD, drinking the wine
His is the wrong name
False title, wrong ambitions
And I keep thinking
How he'd fare so far?
How he'd jump ahead in line
Call favours from an era,
Long gone.
I'm afraid his self-afflicted loneliness
Is no punishment to what he did to us
His pride is ingenuous
And grins like one on the wall plastered
Centuries ago
That's what comes from trusting pretty faces
Hands deep in pockets
He buries his flames
Avowing nothing but cold blooded revenge
It's nothing on you, he's just like that
He's just somebody nobody
Seeking addresses of your old flames
To cause collision in the party
And call a favour
Tell you you're sorry for the missed paychecks
Thrown as payback

11
It's just a rumour
Which will die down
By earnest crowd
Broken by his reappearance.

12
 Relic

Hoodwinked by the prize I

Dealt with cards of paradise
With somebody living in the dark
Imposing changing of the things we like
So precious that we couldn't even get to smile
So damned that I am losing you to eternal sleep
Can't pray for your quiet relief
It's how the prayers work
It's how they have played our words
And preyed on our souls
Their God
On cross
Living to just die
Impropriety aside
The wall is leaking the tears of my dream
It's turning red, it's chasing red
Drop by drop they'll mark our words
A simple relic on the tombstone
A photograph behind the stone
It's such a lair
In dreamscape
Worshipping rulers of the land
And their high orders are at stake.

13
 Present day

The date on calendar changed

I've believed myself to be young
But everything in me is growing old
Not a single visitor or crows hanging about
I still lounge by the window
To see people my age fleeting
They move to places where I'll never be
I'll sit quietly to see the time flying.

I don old clothes, to see semblance of old friend

I've misplaced their last message
Their goodbyes told in cryptic affairs
I wasn't there to console,
To hold their pieces when they were all alone.

We have come to the future we dreamt of

We cheered to an imaginary tale
Where we were well-off
But could not kiss anyone goodbye,
Cause we only cheered in
Pictures clicked at the spur of the moment
Behind the cameras, always
It was enough carving present for the day.

14
 Rooms

In quiet room I hear them chuckle

I think about possible conclusions
Variations in my imagination
To shy eyes the world revolves around them
Marks days on its calendar
A setback is an another celebration
What comes after is nothing like what came
before
I still see the days from my inexperienced eyes
Hear from my inexperienced ears
Think from my inexperienced brain
And wonder loudly the meaning of my existence
The propensity for thinking out loud
Dims this room, walls my solace
No empty threats turn back the clock
What follows next is the bare truth
I simply repeat words heard in other rooms.

15
 Interlude

If I see what I have seen

The sight of prejudice and holy fear,
They gnaw on old and merry rites
and play with you when the things were dear.

---------------------
Equate it with equalness
And the numbers disappear
Leaving a trail behind
Of scars and prayers.

---------------------
What a poet would he be,
If he's seen everything fair?
Of all the rivers that play in the fields
He sees in the hands of a mayor.

---------------------
I can be honest about it
But your fame won't match the game,
You were a Brutus
Trying to steal my Kashmir
And abandoning ways to kill me.

16
 Dreams

These haunting glories delight vacant eyes

Perception comes unfiltered, black and white
Who will look after the signs
When my mind is devoid of pain and pleasure
It's quiet inside but I'm afraid
I am tired of living, I'm too scared to leave
Heavy is the cost of sustaining
There's no nature or nurture or truth
Biding me to realities of fiction I'm in.
But universe welcomes me
It hones me in imperfect ways
Some astronautical distance far away
A sweet face on nobody's land
I see him every day, every morning and night
In dreams he lives, without a flicker of light
I have to sleep anyway
His presence a switch away
But I'm haunted 12 hours a day
I do not remember waking up to disgrace.

17
 An impressionable man

Can we get some lights here please?

It's a plot hole with no solution
Unchartered transcripts in this territory
How do you call people back home?
How do you let darts stay in air
In your refurnished small space?
The floor is littered by lines and tunes
The wall has surrendered to your on and off moods
You think sunlight is aesthetic
But I'm pretty sure you're getting addictive
To things like parallel lines, bold colours
Loud music and Chinese scripts
Remember breaking an old bowl for your
experiment?
Every hour was a surprise
Every minute a suspense
You were a good story teller
With things you can do to characters
There will be something missing
One arm, one leg- you bickered
And your beige-like amusement when
Finding queen was dead,
Hurried your way into my flat
Saying, declarations are a thing of past
We should write our own constitution,
The runic scribbles, the anti-autotune motion
Ahead of the generation

18
You were a darling of the next generation
The anti-present, always looking into future
Into someone's past
Looking for stories, looking for things
Broken by each syllable
So you wrote about things that mattered
Of fire and water
Of sky and earth
Each mythological tale finding a rebirth in
Ashes and papers,
And the charcoal sunglasses
To fade in the crowd.
Another act began, you suppress
A giggle at my expense,
"That's your lover you see
He mocks you, he mocks the light and the breeze
How fair this experiment going to be
He plays both Romeo and Juliet,
And Ranjha and Heer,
He lives his life in solitary"
So I confess
My profession is no delusion
Your prophecies are ephemeral,
Let's see the show, let's not take your
highbrow components to no-man zone.

19
 Hands

Long hands, calloused fingers

Fingers with impressions and no expressions
Hands in air, hands inside pockets
Hands signing treaties and no exclusions,
Shorthand, short writings
On the wall with hand prints
Coloured different, these dissimilar hands
Of a child, of a woman.
Hand one a ring, some a future
Of dilapidated screens owned by a preacher
One dissolution of band of brothers
The apocalyptic word is drowning in
Grey colours.

20
 Happiness

Happiness is a sin
they preached you to be happy in sadness
There you will pin
A memento to religious silence
It's become a fixture, they say to pray twice
In heaven or hell, you'll find your place
Tell me what place will I find?
I dine three courses
With her Majesty and some discourses
Take place beyond hell or heaven
So I've sinned
I have found my place in empty spaces
willed his speech to weary forces
but nothing good comes from chanting
or debating these worldly, never lasting
consumption of sweet words, harsh desires.

21
 Grave

The zig zag lines on path point to an old grave

With fresh dug soil it seemed
The retribution of forgotten lain bare
For whole world to see
The dead demands for the loneliest
Oh how the congregation must look like
And puzzling theologians in old debate,
The dead seeks recluse in this disturbance
It seeks tangible result in coded verses.
How in grace will the justice be delivered
Here standing tall to oversee the future,
The company of old is fine
The company for young is denied
Oh they are too many too less, they say
They haven't seen the hardship for days

But death ventures on and on

Its eyes calculating number of breaths then I'll stop
Misery comes with clean hands
It's in the bleak folds of cosmos
And burns bright in the end
Like a fairy tale on the brink of collapse
The company of one shouldn't suffer
What end brings is not an answer
But a chalice to drink from.

22
 Love

Love is an empty door, bereft of

Things you clustered in your hall
One stack over the other lies
A different world where we drink wine
And runs ahead
Of the stories built inside your pain.

Love in an empty soul

Waiting to be coloured
Pondered over by grey alchemists
Who are set on disturbing the world
Ahead of what they know of love.

Love comes empty handed

Far too cool headed,
Leaches onto your rug
That flies between your imagination and
Pictures of your home.

Love is twisted, endless

Is born from stories that bear
Much faith from
Prisoners and captives and soldiers,
Before their early death.

23
 Outsiders

We swore off collecting trinkets

On funeral grounds where we
See pieces of heart breaking
Yet the beams of our dreams were too
Morbid for the passers by
They wished for tranquility
And peace of mind.

We sold our souls, they say

Our lethal qualities brought us to sway
We traded it to the king of Nether,
But emptiness besets godliness
Godliness hinders chaotic mechanisation
Of one man sitting on top
He cared much in gale
His tattered hat and battered face
Bemused,
Grimmer as the clock went ticktock
Echoing in the empty room.

When end of line nears

Bonafide ghouls enter
This paradigm of life and end
Flaunting itself
tiptoeing with the laws of time

24
The afterlife comes quickly
In seconds it shatters phases of reality
And screams that quickens
The passage to a gallery
but it doesn't hold art or flavours of life
it collects shiny trinkets
one Peter Pan never losing eternity
Never sleeping through madness
He was our leader, the sole possessor
of this timeless gang
We shall flight from death.

25
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