Author Archives: Darshan Mohekar

It feels as if it’s was only yesterday,
I was seven and was under that darn tree,
Ignoring the voices of the world,
I enjoyed being free.

I was seventeen,
The next day I woke up,
Intensified voices were getting to my nerves,
I was totally fed up.

I ain’t allowed to pursue my passion.
Voices echoed ‘Passion and career are different.’
I am shackled by the fam’s expectation.
For a moment, I was gonna give up.

It was as if I was sonnet,
Bound by cliché rules.
I was forced down the path paved by the voices,
So were many other fools.

But then I reckoned who I am,
I reckoned, what if I am a sham?
I reckoned, it’s voices of the world,
Cajoling me to be epitome in their perspective.
I’d eyes, only meant to see
What the voices allowed me to.
I’d my own voice, only meant to be used
When the voices allowed me to.
The voices mocked, “You’ve freedom to express,
Of course only when we allow you to.”

I threw off the shackles I had.
Being in that anguish was totally my bad.
Nevertheless, I’m in pursuit of my passion now,
I’ll be certain to get rid of the voices somehow.

I’m tryna hide from the world and be at ease,
But I still hear voices of the world reverberating.
I even made it overseas,
But the voices still keep iterating.

Off I go now,
For the voices of the world
Try to drag me down somehow.

But you beware of these voices of the world,
Beware of these voices of the world,
Beware of these voices of the world!

I’ve made people regret many things.
Also made them realize there’s always a time they should spout me out.
I know it causes pain,
But at times it’s necessary.
I’m used relentlessly
Be it midst chaos or peace .

A fare share of me is
used by the departing souls,
A fare share by broken hearts,
A fare share by friends far gone.
A fare share of me is left unsaid,
Huh, guess silence does my job there.

You should be careful though,
There’s my imposter,
Used by pretentious people,
He’s being used
more often than me these days.


But nonetheless, I get paid,
I get paid for my services.
I’ve got a companion as my earning.
He’s attached to me always.
He’s referred to as ‘feeling’.

I’m ‘Goodbye’, I’m eternal.
I’ll be there for eternity.
Aeons will pass by
But I’ll still be, either the start
Or the end of someone’s pain.

I’m relic of human thoughts,
I’m ‘Goodbye’,
I’m souvenir of pain of berserk world,
I’m ‘Goodbye’.

I wish I could be the coziness of winter
You are so fond of.
I wish I could be the drizzle
You want yourself to get drenched in.
I wish I could be the twilight
You adore to kindled by every morning.
I wish I could be the tempest
You can drive out air of melancholy with.
I wish I could be the goblet of tequila
You gulp down so swiftly.
I wish I could be the vessel
You could pour all your mayhem into.
I wish I could be everything and anything
You ever asked for.

In return I only ask one thing,
In return I only ask one thing,
When I finally succumb to death
I wish for you to become the earth
And wrap me up in yourself.
It’s so presumptuous of me
To ask I guess, isn’t it?

I’ve ripped myself off of the cravings I had,
I snuggle myself in quilt of anxiety,
Sipping a cup of coffee,
Which gives off the wisps of self-denial,
While I read ‘It’s Kind of a Funny Story’,
And portray myself as protagonist,
Eventually I end up overthinking things,
When I’m done, I walk up to balcony,
Awaiting the coldest breeze of nostalgia,
That induce the goosebumps of desolation.
Such are my evenings, everyday,
Till I cry myself to sleep.