Nikam Rohit

I stay all alone through the night. Trying to sleep, changing my sides. Those words of whom I love, keeps me abide. Lets me into scenarios and places. Where nor this body, or these thoughts have visited. There is only this blurry image of the lovers I held in my eyes. Always trying to live into their lies. Sometimes I feel like a broken vase. Going through all the fake promises and faiths. All I know now is, that I've never loved enough. Because I've never understood what was it like, to pour everything you have on this lonely paper. And, how it feels to be erased by the solitary poetry maker.

The Paperback A thin paperback novel. Ah, I was not interested in. Started turning pages. Chapters after chapters. I thought of keeping it aside. But oh, I couldn't resist. I was addicted to the smell of those pages. So crisp were those edges. Slipping and falling at every comma. Sprinting, dodging every exclamations. When at your end I felt so lonely. Like an abandoned place, no one wishing to visit. Still I explored new places, new stars and some constellations unknown. "The end." There was a tear running down my cheeks. Wiping it smiling with my lips trembling weak. I didn't want that book to end. So I decided to write it myself, hugging it under the cage of my chest. "A Promise." _______________________________________________________________ The title is "You"

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              Slowly the sun sets out of the metal frame. The nature darkens while the building burns in the explosion of sparkling lights. Chirpings of the evening birds is now faded out. I woke up rubbing my eyes, looking out of the sliding glass. “Did you sleep well?” she asks over my shoulder. “Yes.” I say turning around. Still in the hangover from the last sip of alcohol, I brush my hair with a gentle blow of my fingers letting out a deep breath. “Have a bath, you’ll feel good.” She says directing me towards the washroom.                Standing naked below the shower, feeling each strike of the cold water on my head, I kept my eyes closed trying to recall the afternoon. There was a blurry image. Though it was shaken, it was sharply focused in my subconscious. Two bodies lying beside each other.                 The room was lighted with its incandescent light. Artificial breeze was being spread by the rotating blades. I was lying in her lap. Eyes closed. “How are you fe

He wanted her back, in his life. To make him smile. To make him cherish, love. To fade his worries. His silence. With a blissful laughter from her heart. All he wanted was to talk. One last time. All he wanted. All he prayed for. Was her. To make him live his life. By her side. - Rohit Nikam.

I wish my poetry could flow in the stream of rhythms. Locked in the haven of words. Sprinkling showers of emotions. Escaping into the sea of dust. - Rohit Nikam.