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Omair Tarique

@omair.tarique

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you too can become a hero.
i’m cooler than @issokayomair

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This guy helped me out in every way possible in the city! Kolkata! You have a hugeeeeeee heart! Thanks for being a part of my journey!
See you soon!
Hai Bharosa Tour Diaries!
#haibharosa

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Poem by Omair (@omairexcerptarique) | Instagram: @thescribbledstories

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Snippet by Omair (@omairexcerptarique) | Submit your stories: http://bit.ly/tsssubmissions

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Snippet by Omair (@omairexcerptarique)

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You and I:
flesh and bones,
eyes and glasses,
lips and pout,
beauty and beast.
and our hearts aching for affection;
and we are the two souls
seeking Love in everything
but each other.

Night had spread its shade across the sky. The stars I pined for blinked beneath those curtained eyelashes. And the aloof moon You sought was in my pocket. We sought love everywhere, except in our own chamber of friendship. It is not too late. Ay, we are almost there.

You are a scar to none,
and a mark to many.
You are a being not to be noticed,
but stalked through and through,
You are to be read and thought of,
not fathom into a fairytale.
You are a game of metaphor,
yet a being of realism.

The morning follows, fluttering its wings with every syllable of notes I wrote to You. These poems, they are decorated with Your existence — in my life.

the corners of the hearts,
the poetry of pains,
and the kisses of understanding,
they all remain in You.
You are a set of rules
that fancies breaking.
You grew pain in you
and watered happiness in other’s
the monsters of yesterday
don’t hold you back from the gifts of today.
•
- Omair | Poetry (Instagram: @omairexcerptarique)

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Snippet by Omair (@omairexcerptarique)

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18th November, 2016.
Dear Stranger,
I always come to you when I am not in the best of my days. And I know you do not mind me, because let’s face it, you see through me.

Let me tell you something about my demons. They are... charming. Long hair and dauntless eyes that reflects my deepest desires. Their voice drenched in hemlock. They have wings and they seem to behave like angels around everyone. But I know better. I see them often. I see the reflection, and I know it is just me.

I want to hold the gray roll between my fingers and take a drag from the cigarette, harming the demons inside my heart that disturb my sanity. But I cannot. Because Someone asked me not to.

I think that Someone sees through me, too. Or at least she is trying. She sees me for the person I am. Sad. Aloof. But she annoys me and I annoy her. After all, like they say: “There is no perfect. There will always be a struggle. You just have to pick who you want to struggle with.”
But I know I consume people, hurt them, and get over them so easily that it is like it never happened. I do not like this about me, but it is true.

I want to talk about me, mostly. There are so many ideas that I want to write down and so many wars inside my head. I feel like I am just being concluded or consulted by people who don’t acknowledge the feet my shoes are in. I wonder if I should take the step and put my demons out in the backyard for them to see, but this is risky. What if they wave a hand and calm them? Being understood is scary. And, on the other hand, they can simply run away, seeing how evil I can be. After all, nobody wants to be around someone so gloomy.

Loneliness has followed me all my life. I am fed up of this loneliness. I try everything I can to outrun it, but somehow, at 3 AM, it is there before me, its arms spread in glee, welcoming me back. My home.

I am scared of Love Yous and I Love Yous. I don’t know why, but they make me worry. I don’t return the gesture because I would rather play safe than play love.
But I feel happy about it, too. It is lovely to know that there is someone is out there who enjoys my company and wants to struggle with me.

Love,
Omair Tarique (@omairexcerptarique)

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MicroTale by Omair (@omairexcerptarique ) | The Scribbled Stories |

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MicroTale by Omair (@omairexcerptarique) | The Scribbled Stories |

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Slowly, piece by piece, you gave yourself to me. And I — a monster, dressed with hope and happiness — accepted you.Slowly, piece by piece, you gave yourself to me. And I — a monster, dressed with hope and happiness — accepted you.
You carried your flaws with grace around me, after all, you believed I outshined them. You felt safe around me. Holding my hand, resting your head on my shoulder, it gave you the comfort you always dreamt of. You let me turn your cold heart warm. And you let me explore those dreamy lips, too, whilst you smiled and breathed heavily. And between all the choices you had, you decided to choose me, after all, I made you not think about any other choice. What you and I shared, the long walks, the never-ending kisses, exploring our wonderland were simple, adorable things, and clichéd. But along the way, somewhere, they meant a world to both of us, and they will be one of the moments that rewind in front of my eyes before I rest in peace.

And I was lucky, you know? To have a lifetime, squeezed in those number of days I spent with you. To make all those experiences with you. And I loved you, truly. I did. Maybe, I still do, deep down, but you don’t be bothered, because I am cold, like you. And, I don’t trust love anymore. How can I? It is something that is there one second, alive and spreading happiness and the other... it just fades away. Absent. Gone. Taking away all those happy moments. Happiness.

Being in love with you was like knowing and cherishing every minute, all the memories we kept tossing in the jar of life.
But today, today I have understood the simplest truth of my existence: what I had with you, it is something I can’t have with anyone.

I know you asked me: “You loved me more than I loved you, so where did it go? Why did you stop?” And I so badly wish I had an answer to it. Where did it go? I often ask. Faded away? Or lost its way home? The weight of your tears, I carry around is too much for me. And I am enduring it, crushing underneath it, choking in your tears.

And as much as you don’t believe me, I love to write to you, about you. - Omair (@omairexcerptarique )

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How do you sleep at night?
She asks.

I look at those breezy eyes, smile and say:
‘I sleep fine.’ And she replies —
Even after causing so much pain?
— her eyes glittered with amusement.

I laugh.
‘Pain is a package that comes with people.’ If you end with pain,
why do you attach yourself? ‘It is important if you ask me.’ With a sad smile, she continues:
Something inside you is broken.

And I choose my words carefully.
‘I lost my way back home, I suppose.
And I strayed too far,
to feel closer to people.’• And she stands up... to leave?!
The voices... they make you do it?
•
‘I will lie if you force me.’ Answer me.
•
‘Sometimes.
Other times, I just like hurting.
Women... they are strong.
They can endure pain.
And I love seeing tears.
It is like exploring
your favorite book,
all over again.’
•
She budges forward... to leave?!
Who are you?

I smile, genuinely;
‘At times, I am the warmth;
Sometimes, the coldness.
If the world was sad,
I would have the cure.
And if the world was happy,
I would know that they are lying.
But it is gray,
thus, I am uncertain.’
•
Will you hurt me, too?
Her words cried out for aid
to cross the mountains of pain.
•
‘Never.’
I lie,
like always.
•
‘I don’t sleep fine at night,’ I whisper.
But she knows,
she knew it all along.
•
- Omair (Instagram: @omairexcerptarique) | The Scribbled Stories | Follow us on Twitter at twitter.com/thescribstories

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Musings by Omair (@omairexcerptarique)

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