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Chehak Mehra | Poetry | Writer

@chehakwrites

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~𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑦, 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑥𝑖𝑒𝑠
@chehak.mehra

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To meet you was the loveliest coincidence of my life and to find my soulmate in you was the greatest blessing.

How your fingers completely intertwined with mine and we would hold our hands tightly tiptoeing around when the whole city was asleep. How we took bus rides back home and you would fall asleep on my shoulder, your presence was the only thing I needed.

But I guess, universe had other plans for us.
I wonder if we were never meant to be or if I believed in us a little more?

My hands seem barren, they have lost your essence. I do not travel by bus, your absence haunts me.

Since the time you have left, my heart is a mere makeshift of bits and parts. It's hollow but surviving. I think, it is surviving on your memories, the time when I first met you to the time I knew you were the one.

Alas, it has been a journey of finding and losing, finding how much I would love to lose all at once.

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caption by Chehak (@chehakwrites )
reel by Aayush (@9tyal_since99 )

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#theurbanpost #rockstar #rockstarmovie #ranbirkapoor #nargisfakhri #tumho #untilifoundyou #thenightwemet #hollywood #bollywood #bollywoodmovies #bollywoodedits #love #englishsongs #reelexplore by @chehakwrites

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#life #broken #poems #writersofinstagram #poemoftheday #writerscommunity by @chehakwrites

What if he knocks at your door the exact moment you had lost all hopes? What if he decides to stay, unlike others who left you alone in grief? What if giving love another chance was all worth it?

He keeps little notes of all your favourites, your favourite flowers, your favourite flavour of coffee, your go-to place for desserts, your shoe size and your place to hide when the world becomes heavy. It gets difficult for you to cope with so much love all at once because nobody remembered such tiny details about you ever. How you would react to a certain sentence, what is the next sticker you would pull out in your sticker war, your current song obsession, it is astonishing how he gets all your bollywood references and plays along.

He is always careful with his words because he knows he’s also dealing with the child inside you who is gathering strength everyday to stay strong after all the trauma life has thrown upon you.

//tujhse huyi shuru yeh daastan
tujhpe khatam huyi meri dua//

They often ask you, what if it doesn’t work out between you two? However, you quietly move away this time because you know, no matter how difficult it is to mend things up, you both are always ready to give it all. You have started believing in good things, you get up everyday to face the world because at the end of the day, you know there is someone waiting for you.

Alas, over all the years, for once, you have felt that it is not only you giving, but receiving too.

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caption by Chehak (@chehakwrites )
reel by Aayush (@9tyal_since99 )

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#theurbanpost #ranbirkapoor #deepikapadukone #tamasha #ranbirdeepika #vikrantmassey #harleensethi #brokenbutbeautiful #brokenbutbeautiful3 #shahrukhkhan #srk #anushkasharma #virushka #bollywood #romantic #reelexplore by @chehakwrites

it's difficult to bid goodbye when all you've grown up watching are fairytales. how everything at the end makes sense, how beautifully fate intertwines with your dreams, how it is always a happy ending.

you are someone who has always dreamt of a happily ever after, basking in the sun with the love of your life, sipping your favourite flavour of tea, all perfect just at once.

however, it all seems like a beautiful fantasy until reality hits you, moreover it hits you harder than ever when your favourite person decides to leave.

as you start dreaming of building a home together, you soon realise how you were investing in mere sand castles, awaiting to be washed off.

as your favourite person starts drifting apart, it seems if they are taking away a part of you with them, a part which will leave you incomplete and hollow. their touch still lingers on your skin, their memories are still etched in your heart.

though you've realised that goodbyes are never easy, it seems difficult to let go of that person, the one with whom forever didn't seem a myth, the one you gave your heart to.

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caption by Chehak (@chehakwrites )
reel by Aayush (@9tyal_since99 )

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#theurbanpost #bollywoodsongs #bollywood #retrobollywood #abhinajaochodkar #oldbutgold #veerzara #yjhd #ekvillain #srk #preityzinta #ranbirkapoor #deepikapadukone #sidharthmalhotra #shraddhakapoor #reelexplore #explore by @chehakwrites

For someone like you, who doesn't like to share things, it becomes easy to keep your belongings so close to your heart that they never slip away. It's the same with people.

You want a person who understands you like nobody else would. Someone who likes talking to you not for the sake of it but really enjoys being around you. Someone with whom you can share anything. You want all the romantic novels to come true for once.

And then one day, when you meet them, it all feels like if the universe had planned everything for you. It happens when you least expected it to, a time when you had given up on love, given up on people.

Everything feels so easy with them that you hope for nothing else but just their presence. The only idea of them being with you makes you feel complete.
You know that there is someone who will be there for you whenever you need them no matter how much you fight or argue.

You start believing in love once again, a love that only you both share. You call them "your person."
You share a love so fulfilling, a love that is just for you.

_

written by Chehak (@chehakwrites)
created by Bhumi (@theevocativeme)

#littlethings #dhruv #kavya #netflixshows #lovequotes #mithilapalkar #netflixandchill #perfect #justus #perfectedsheeran #fyp #moviequotes #moviescenes #webseries #indianwebseries #lovestatus #lovestory #lovesongs #tagyourlove by @chehakwrites

women my age,
bring their husbands newspapers in the morning,
the men read them the brutal allegiances
and fatal accidents aloud
while sipping tea, stirred with sugar and some fragility,
a little spilt over the gas stove
as it burns empty from volatile vulnerability
kept near the lighter,
the lighter that their husbands use to burn up the cigarette puffs and roll these to death.

women my age,
don't smile often,
they smirk at their ordeal and laugh at their fickle feelings.
the stones embellishing their anklets seem heavy to step upon with,
as the men of the household
ask them to bring them dinner.
they feast upon the dead,
cooked by the departed;
praise the holy God
before clasping the heaviness of guilt,
the guilt they hold of the murders they have
actively been culprits of
and passively been victims of.
(victims of the murder series, death of their humanity)

women my age,
hold tightly to their sarees,
long lost has slipped away their sanity.
they stare at themselves in the mirror to not find anything
but a bindi
they mutter as they tell,
how it speaks of them being a possession of their fathers and husbands,
how it narrates the stories of women bowing to cruelty,
and how it does not adorn them with culture
but with far fetched rituals.

women my age,
do not share their grief,
they lie beside the men while they're asleep,
to only look for despair and disgust.
women my age have been fed with orders to obey
and slept wrapping themselves in shawls sewed with mercy by their mothers
and stained with loss hy their fathers.

/ but what do I do when I see them grieving in secrecy,
shall i write them letters or recite them poems
of how a woman her age, my age, stand together in isolation/

_

#poetrycommunity #poemsofinstagram #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #writersnetwork #women #womanpower #womanhood #writersofig by @chehakwrites

~thunderstorm and sunshine

#tumblr #pinterest #poetrycommunity #sheisbeautiful #aesthetic #aestheticedits #poetsofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #aesthetictumblr by @chehakwrites

you need to live a hundred lives
to die a hundred times//

you fancy turning your
fragments into a bookstore
and your poems to
reside in an art museum
as you mend your
broken pieces to envisage
the war of mind and truth,
archives hold the forbidden
speeches of freedom
and your poetry resembles
love and stolen glances,
a fallacy, world forbids to
scribble on the museum walls
they say it would
bring the dead to life
and harm the historians' only means to live.

you wear paper cuts,
bruises embellish your skin
prude, pride
jeopardize your sense of belief;
believing that artists
don't reside in art galleries
but are captivated,
in shackles of sorcery
and poets don't breathe metaphors
but mend broken, hurting hearts
as if their last desire is to
turn people into tragedy poems
and reside in their
forgotten trauma

you look out to slurp
the universe and subsume it
in your body to let
it flow through your veins
and transfuse galaxies
into your breathe
so as you speak,
you speak a hundred mirrored
constellations and exhale
a hundred stolen moons,
jupiter might search for you
now and then, he might
find you in the ballroom,
dancing alongwith literature
and art, cuts and stitches;
he held
a thousand roses for you
and you left him
naked, stealing all his desires.

.
#writersaroundtheworld #writersofinstagram
#poetrycommunity
#poetsofinstagram #poetrycommunity #poetsbatch #poetryisnotdead by @chehakwrites

~our love was more like streets of banaras
and less like city lights and champagnes

abhi na jaao choddkar ke dil abhi bhara nahi/

our hands melted into oneness,
love curiously peeping out of my braids,
braids tied with mogra, gifted by my lover
our fingers traced each other's destiny
as if to be sure,
to be sure that this is not our last glance at each other
this is not our last secret meet
and if this moment will surpass eternity,
if I'll get wash away by the shore
or we will build a castle far away from the
ocean and seas, nearer to shade and trees.

jo khatm kisi jagah yeh aisa silsila nahi
abhi na jaao choddkar ke dil abhi bhara nahi/

lag jaa gale ke fir ye haseen raat ho na ho/

we stole moments of togetherness
to meet at the junction,
his train passes through my lane
and bids adieu to the ghats of my city
as if their reunion wouldn't last for long,
while I wait for him to adorn me with
the silver earrings, his mother has delicately
wrapped in his handkerchief to sell
them in the market for flesh and blood.
as he carefully knits love letters for me,
I couldn't but less pack stale pickle
in ivory boxes.

aankhon se phir ye pyar ki barsaat ho na ho/

hum tum kitne paas hai kitne dur hain chaand sitaare/

our stolen glances,
fading smiles,
and forgotten promises
linger on our chests, as heavy as the pearls
scattered,
as delicate as the anklet broken
and as mystical as a forever promised
on the streets of my town.

tum in sab ko chhod ke kaise kal subah jaogi/

#silverleafpoetry #globalagecaption #poetryisnotdead #aesthetictumblr #lovepoems #pinterestaesthetic #poetsofinstagram #writerscommunity by @chehakwrites

The newspaper in my country screams of agony and laughs till my stomach hurts to death.
It does not greet the men in the morning
but haunts them at nights when cigarettes puffs don't suffice their need for solace.
The dull hands of the man holding yesterday's stale headlines shiver to turn the page,
as if the obituary would read him his death the next morning.

Brutal alliances and fickle feuds hold their hands
to wish the man a day of grey skies and fading twilight.
It strolls around the broken walls of tombs and smells wars and conflicts inscribed on the pillars,
lovers names are carved on the bricks
as if their last wish was to sleep sound against Mumtaz's grave.

The newspaper in my country passes through the lanes of bribery and despair,
as the brothel on its way
waves back at it
for both sell despondence wrapped in fire and anguish,
hoping to bleed a little less someday.

It is shy of truth and confides in deceitfulness, it murmurs to me when the sun sets
how the editor tries to prolongs its life
by sewing the pages with glass thread,
however it tends to break, break and shatter into pieces of veracity,
everyone is afraid of holding.
It walks on the road, paved by the artisans
who have buried their sanity and melted their humanity.

Their ashes have become dust,
sweeped by the janitor in the morning, at the same time,
when news is rolled and moulded into factory dust.
It strangles the reader with utter silence and chaos
when the headline reads another macabre series of murder was executed near his hometown.

The newspaper in my country holds its breath everytime it wraps itself around my hand,
fearful, I would scribble poetry on its facades//

#poetrycommunity #poetryisnotdead #writerscommunity #writersaroundtheworld #poetssociety #globalagepoetry #discover #indiatravel #indiaphotography #poetrylovers by @chehakwrites

~why do artists grieve in open and laugh in darkness?

-Chehak Mehra

#silverleafpoetry #napowrimo #poetryisnotdead #poetrycommunity #artofinstagram #globalagepoetry #bymepoetry #writersday #poetssociety #poetsociety #poetsandwriters by @chehakwrites

dripping down the throat of the calendar,
february renders warmth to trauma
and shudders down
the one drowning in perennial;
it is a painting on the canvas, abandoned after january decided to breathe his last
and march persuaded to live a little longer.

dates of the year play a mystery
with february and it falls for the mockery,
weeping spring and forgoing frost.

the days smell like countryside,
nights, a doom for the countrymen,
the grazers plucked
hours out of their farm
and february stands there
to witness their grief,
for it is also deprived of minutes and seconds,
summer rise and winter sunsets,

harbouring golden harvest
yet the silver sky
dawns on it to let others run through the time.

tragedy and love intertwined,
february narrates
the tale of conquest and triumph
it handpicks the lover
and lays beside the seeker
and witnesses war for love and love for war,
for the tale is a poem,
metaphors its jewel
and similes its kohl.

to come and go is forbidden
as they lie in the breathe of february
surpassing sans suffering ain't granted.

~ Chehak Mehra
@chehakwrites)

#poetryisnotdead
#poetrycommunity
#writersofinstagram
#poemsindiaprompts
#poemsindia #silverleafpoetry
#poetsociety #poetsbatch #february #love by @chehakwrites