stardancingchild

Latest Posts by stardancingchild

Each breath, a pain.

Each gulp , a shame.

Yet smile is all they see.

The tears of rage

now turn to ashes,

I still look upto thee

I still look upto thee

Still Look Upto Thee

Artwork: Karl Bryullov, ‘Last Day of Pompeii’

So mortal of me,

So naive of me.

I still look upto thee,

I still look upto thee.

I offer my years,

I offer my tears,

So insignificant,

So incomplete.

I hold my hands out,

Still beg for mercy.

I still look upto Thee

I still look upto Thee.

Reaching Verity

You know how that saying goes, "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all".

I feel like there is a desperate need to bring "if you have something nice to say, don't hesitate at all".

We often fail to realise that when you see something nice or pretty in someone, it's very important that you let them know in the most polite words possible. It's not that hard. If anything, it's the thing that comes most naturally to us social animals.

Most people deal with issues related to self image and sometimes it's important that they get to know how nicely people see them, without having to ask. It brings them out of their own mind.

You might think "oh my god their hair is so fluffy and wavy today i love it" and keep silent and all along they might be thinking that their hair looks wild and like an animal and they hate this much volume and they wish their hair had normal fluff. It's just an example, ykwim.

So if you think something is nice about somebody, who does not need to even be close to you, DON'T HESITATE AT ALL.

Most people never hesitate while being "brutally honest" but will hold every word back when there's something nice to say, cuz they wanna look cool somehow?? I never got that math.

There's no need to lie either, if you don't have anything nice to say, you can always say nothing at all.

But if you do, please for the sake of this world, let that person know. We never know how much someone might need that. And it will always keep the cycle running, of noticing nice things about others and IN TURN, YOURSELF. Cuz how can you hate something in yourself which you found really nice in someone else!

Let's make our society a kind and nice space.

If you have something nice to say, don't hesitate at all!

Weirdly enough, this is one of my comfort songs.

(turn the music on before reading, you'll get me better)

I listen to it as i imagine him singing it to me.

Holding me carefully, not too little or i might fall apart, not too much or i might break. We sway slowly side to side, in each other's arms, just for a moment passing by, as i shed all my unseen tears. I imagine that he cares, he cares that he never cared for me like i did for him. I imagine him singing this to my poor soul, telling me that he'd only make me cry, because it would make more sense than my idea of "us". We sway with the wind brushing our sorrows away, somehow my sorrow held onto my heart for him and took it away as well. So as long as this song fills the room, we're the only two that exist, only two that matter. And as long as this plays, it matters to him that i never mattered to him as he did to me. He knows, he shows, he sees, he's sorry.

But the song ends, and so does this pitiful fantasy. Reality comes rushing in...

I had him on my mind , ingrained in my brain. I made playlists for him in hopes the melodies might convey a fraction of my affection. I saved posts that i would send him if he was ever mine. I wrote him poems, which were some of my best works. I had a whole digital diary of him, secret albums of pictures of him, especially of ones which i took, if he could see himself through my eyes, him smiling wide with glistening eyes, maybe he would also want to capture and safeguard every nuisance of his beauty; and also, there is that folder of pictures my friends took of us together in one frame, accidentally of course.

I thought of being near him all the time, i thought of his wellbeing, i wished for him to know how perfect he was. Is. And he doesn't know any of this. I had him written all over my life for about an year, and he will have no idea how deep it goes.

He never led me on, he never did anything that would "make" me feel something about him nor did he drop hints that he felt something, he didn't have to, i guess, because i was never delusional, just utterly smitten...

(but then, what business did those eyes have, meeting mine??)

One day, i gave in to this agony and said to him that i liked him, and he said it was ok, i was his friend, this won't change anything. He was the nicest about it. But I still wonder, what if I would have said so much more, only if he could hear so much more... if he could, I'd tell him,

how like is something i did to a stranger at the airport who i talked to for a few minutes,

how like doesn't do justice to the gravity with which i was falling,

how like is what my mouth says, while my heart goes on to describe his beautiful piscine eyes, as the deepest ocean I'd drown in,

how like is what i wished it was, because it wasn't love of course, something less, something very one sided, but something so true.

If only i could tell him, i missed him when he was out of sight or even when he was right in front of my eyes, i fell for his laugh and his smile and his eyes and his lips and his hair and his hands and how he treated everyone respectfully, and his brain, and how he was so in love with his family, and how he was just a beautiful human being...

If i told him, i felt the familiarity of falling the first day i met him, if i told him i never wanted to be just friends, if i told him i would cherish him in every way he deserves...

Would it have made a difference? Would our story have a different ending?

I like to think

no.

I still don't know how to be that for someone else what he was to me.

Was? .... Is?....

no.

For the sake of my damn heart and the amount of love overflowing from it, it should not be an "is".

Was.

"Was" is where it should belong.

So I'll listen to "cry" again and imagine him singing again as we sway back and forth and I'll imagine i cry my unseen tears and pretend that

this is what my closure is.

The Artist

What are we here for

If not

To become the spectators 

Of the cosmic artwork

Unfolding before our eyes

The cosmic artwork

Of a blue sky

With rose strokes across

As the sun's about to die

Over the far horizon

Only to be born again

The next present

With a new light

The cosmic artwork

Of the birds singing, 

On birth of light 

Each sunrise, of the clouds

Swaying and changing hues

The cosmic artwork

Of each little life itself

The chaos seemingly random

Binding us all with one life

Of the artist itself.

The cosmic artwork

That created nature,

The mother herself

For she's the artist of 

the cosmic art,

Her eyes glittered in awe

Of her own self.

.

.

Their eyes stare close,

parallel into each other.

These mirrors of their souls,

create some infinite reflections,

Gazing deep inside, they see

their histories unwind ,

while their hearts intertwine.

They collapse in each other,

as if two black holes collide,

ending light, ceasing dark,

rebuilding space , creating their time.

Buried was a universe inside, now is

a spark that's theirs to be,

forever and ever...

-mauli

Days turn into weeks turn into months turn into years Time flies by in a blink of eye So many things we wanted So many thing we tried So many things we got So many tears dried. In our race against time We live, we loath , we cry Till the time comes, one day we realise In the wait of death, the end of our time, we rushed everything. We rushed life, and forgot to live and passed our precoius time by

-mauli ♡

"He's a book that doesnt find itself in the front showcase of the bookstore, not in the popular aisles, no. It's the one you'll stumble upon when least expected, it lurks in the corners which the common reader seldom visits. Or it might tumble on you when you're not looking, catching you by your breathe, making you fall hard, making you fall fast.

But when it's is finally found, I stop my brain before it's filled with thoughts on the cover, for a good book can't be judged that way, it's common knowledge. 

I run my fingers through unintended pages , reading the random excerpts word by word. Page by page, phrase by phrase, the book makes me want to stay. It makes me want to read it patiently, not possibly all at once, for its just not possible. It's pages over pages of just art, waiting in the dark to be perceived.

It takes away your breath with each sentence, compelling you to comprehend the obvious beauty and beyond all, the meaning, the purpose and the pain.

Even if one manages to reach the last word, he's the book that would never suffices you in just one reading. So, I read it over and over and over again, never having enough. The simple complexities, the rhymes and rythmes, the perfect  imperfections , the utter beauty and the guarded mysteries that leave me hanging each time, wanting more.

In quest of learning all of him, one can live a life, content, forever; for one will be loving the outcast charm that's this book, forever."

-mauli

Sometimes the scenarios i make up in my head amaze me.

They are so beautiul, so dreamy, so perfect, so much *needed*, it makes my heart ache from the thought that they can never come true, not ever in the exact same dreamy manner as they do in my mind. I would never find that perrffectt person and never will those deliberate- indeliberate touches and talks and gazes and moments happen...

It leaves me longing and hopeless, I guess my expectations from life , at moments, become too far-fetched.

The only way out, to turn them into reality, is to-

write down the scenario,

develop a story that is actually comprehensible (paiinnnn),

write a novel,

knock doors of publishing houses,

get it published,

work to make it a bestseller,

become a filmwriter and director,

find a producer,

get external validation for script and find rest of the crew ;))

find the perfect music that goes with my fantasy,

find the handpicked perfect cast,

and make it into a adaptation movie.

(excuse the inaccuracy my process. i am not well acquainted with all this, at least not in this universe, but that is just how i imagine)

Then all my dreams *might* come true. Is it too much? or a bare neccesity for my dream to reality journey, i will never know i guess...

(this also totaly disrupts my path of pursuing STEM career, leaving another dilemma at my hand. Life just wouldnt stop being so *REAL*, now, would it ? :I Now my options are a) Reincarnation, b) discover multiverse and travel to the universe where i did write a novel and make a movie about it, by myself, and watch that.... arghh the things we do for the love of love )

this was just a thought, no self-emotions were hurt in this post (ok, maybe a few) (excruciating pain right in middle of heart, a major headache here and there.)

Is it your poetic gaze, those damn poetic eyes, or just my poetic heart, the very reason why every part of you each way you exist, is the most beautfiul possession that i can ever call mine....

-mauli ♡

Speak less, mean more

We as humans, don't seek improvement in the pursuit of perfection. Rather, the ability of constant improvement is itself the perfection we seek.

(og)

I've never gulped water with such rush. With such restlessness, like i do now. I hope for it to fill me up. Completely. From inside. Like its a heavy plug. The hole in my chest would stop bleeding for once, and my heart would float for a second in the emptiness, it used to drown in.

-mauli

✨🧡🌙SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨🧡

lots of love to you @vantaerayleigh1997 your blog has my heart! ^u^

In pursuit of peace and perfection, in pursuit of power and progression. In pursuit of gratitude and growth, in pursuit of wisdom and warmth. In pursuit of life and it's meaning, in pursuit of God's grace and it's healing In pursuit of endless dreams and broken stars, in pursuit of an eternal remedy for ,all my scars. In pursuit of care and respect. In pursuit of love perhaps. Little did I ever know, that in these endless pursuits of life itself, I would find all the answers, in you.

-mauli

Heyy!!🌼

✨🧡🌙SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨🧡

Love you sm! Forwarding this for sure! <3 <3

sometimes, you NEED to feel better, you NEED to be happier. Why?

for the sake of this world.

To appreciate the humanity that still remains. To look at the sunrise and sunset.

To tell your mom you love her, to tell your dad you love him. To, for once, tell your sibling that they are precious. to hate them again after.

To pet your dog or cat or hamster or horse or pig or any specie and let them know that their little lives mean bigger to you than anything.

To plant a tree and see it grow and fruit under your care.

To see green. and blue, and yellow, and red and f**king every colour we cant imagine.

To listen to people talking and living and find someone to talk and live with.

To love, to eat, to sleep, to repeat.

To leave a legacy as a human no one else is

To appreciate the fact that you, who had 1 in a billion chance to be formed inside your lifegiver, lived on and did what we call thriving, on this planet of fascinations.

for the sake of yourself and the life you lived and the space-time you travelled.... sometimes, you NEED to live, in order to live....

-mauli

we dream, we dream and we die between the melancholy and ecstasy we call life, do we live for once? or are dreams only to die for?

☆☆☆☆ -mauli

i am maybe she.

and i wish to save her, badly.

for maybe she wouldnt stand.

another hit. another blow.

she might scatter in millions.

and dissolve.

in what they call, life.

-mauli

She was magnificent like that

She took the hits

She gathered the pain

And she weaved it into

Something beautiful

Something just like her

it gave me chills,

it gave me shivers,

as i write along the lines.

About a guy, whose eyes,

i caught a glimpse of

as they dazed in mine.

wish that moment could stop between us, and age, a little like fine wine...

-mauli

something happened not something new

I saw a boy and he saw me too

our eyes met , not for long

but enough for me to write a song

Scribbles on the Sky turned 1 today! I can't thank you all enough for making this year a memorable one on Tumblr even though I went through many ups and downs...Really, i wish this community stays the way it is... btw I am back on Tumblr after academic break and can't wait for getting to know so many more of you amazing people!

Why do i write ?

Why am i even here?

Maybe in hope.

Maybe in desperation.

Maybe is anticipation.

Maybe because I'm a little tired every now-and-then.

Maybe because i dream of being heard, just a little, for once.

Maybe i wish, that at least someone would hear a tiny piece of my soul here, and in all anonymity, not judge me for once.

Maybe someone would read me, and not get sad, and not feel guilty, and not feel sorry, and not worry ,just be there.

Maybe that's why this scribbling is sacred. Maybe that's why i keep coming back. Maybe the insecurities i never used to have, maybe my suddenly empty social life, maybe the creepy monotony hands me my pen.

To blurt out a little and to breathe a little. Maybe that's why i write.

Maybe to live a little.

Maybe.

-mauli

Life is short, live everyday....

That's just what everyone might say.

But life,

It's BIG.

It's LONG.

Oh heck, it's WIDE!

Let no one tell you otherwise.

Your first 20yrs may seem like the assurance of a "happily ever after" if done correctly.

But there is no correct way.

Everyday, may seem like you are not doing anything worth, life is so short.

But it's not.

Take your time.

Do things you love and do something for your loved ones.

Yes, there is a lot of time for most of us,

But remember , there is no time to waste.

Yes life's unpredictable.

And that is another reason for you ,to do you, everyday, step by step.

No, long life isn't assured, but if we make ourselves miserable thinking our life will be better if we do a 1000 things a day, we are still wasting it

No one will live our life.

We will.

Embrace each day you get, cuz many don't get a next day.

Live like you have to live forever.

Speed things up for your excitement, not because your life will be ruined if you don't.

You. Have. Time.

A lot. Or. A little.

You. Have. Control.

Live time. It's not to waste.

-mauli

We expect our friends to be our family and our family to be our friends. In all this confusion, we fail to value either.

How about letting each of them remain thereselves and love them no matter what?

☆☆☆

A fire raging inside,

boils the liquid red in me,

vapours of which,

condense as tears in the eyes.

And you say I'm weak

when i cry.

You're naïve, you don't know.

The drops of greif are mortal,

but the tears burnt

are the Flames at rest,

pouring from the brink of heaven,

into hell.

They are power, they are anger,

they give the purpose

to the machine immortal

that rages to live on and on,

burning the rocks ,to ashes.

-mauli

Amazing job Nits... You brought the prompt to life!🌃

Reflection of that Night

Shuffled songs playing in background,

While we looked at the canvas created of glistening tiny dimonds

Hands clasped together

A hint of rose kissed breeze soothing our bodies,

A night under the stars, just like a dream, no lust,

Just nerd talks and staring at the sky and each other

Moon's reflection seemed like artist's paint stroke

On the surface of silent water,

Just like nature's masterpiece on work

Moonlight illuminated everything in sight

One gaze at surrounding

Another glance in your eyes

No noise

No worries of another sunrise

Just a few words and talks left

Before we will be apart

We know what we want

But those pieces are gonna remain left

Like a puzzle with no intention to be resolved

Thanks Mauli ( @maulirajguru ) for these beautiful lines to write upon

"A night under the stars, just like a dream, no lust,

Just nerd talks and staring at the sky and each other"

Sorry lovie for being this late ...

Tagging : @maulirajguru @vaibhavtheunbreakable @valiantbearblaze @poetic--elixir @king-of-knives @kiff-12345 @wallflowerkays @till-we-alignn @thelilsnowflakeinrain @yxungsatan @wigilda @liestookmyvibes @lilhappylilsad @user-vanished @royallylk @burningqueentimemachine @bloodnwine-writer @a-moonlit-poet @theazurepoet @deadwhisper @bleehhhhgirl @bk-poetry (and @everyone interacting afterwards and those mutuals I somehow forgot to tag)

I think it's quite pitiful, when you get tired of hearing your own voice. When you are tired, so tired, that you embrace the silence... ☆☆☆

If you get this, answer with three random things about yourself and send this to the last seven blogs in your notifications anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog! ☺️

Thanks for asking this!

So 3 things about me....Let's see:

I am 17yr old Indian girl

2. i love taking pictures of the sky

3. I am OBSESSED with every form of creative writing, be it poetry, essay, story, ballads, songs, shayaris etc. i am obsessed.

btw this is my first ever ask, so thanks for that! :D

I try to open my lips, utter a word,

like a million times.

Then I tell myself, "who cares?"

like a million times.

And i try to whine ,infront of myself

like a million times.

Again, i shut up and keep going

like a million times...

-mauli

Just found it at the time in my life where i was asking myself, "why isnt my life and ME normal? Why cant i be carefree and reckless and ignorant for once!?" Here, my inspiration just gave me the answer...

“No one is remembered for being normal.”

— Albert Einstein