The Hazy Moonshine Vigour From the Void

Bisakha Das

Preface

The overflow of emotions, knitted in this book in the form of Poetries and short narratives are collected chiefly with a view for the many improvements to which they have been subjected while going at random rounds of thought process. With me, poetry has never been a purpose, but a passion and the passion should be held in reverence. These poetries are the mere convo of my dainty thoughts which will surely be appealing to my dear readers. Being a lover of literature, I legitly spent 6 months, living an austere, close to nature, spiritual life so that I could bring the TRUE essense of what I write in the "healing" section of my book (towards the end) Enjoy and have a nice tour of what life actually is!

Acknowledgment

Thank you,my loving readers, who have stuck with me through this whole epic roller coaster of emotions. Also, writing this book has been an exercise in sustained suffering! Those who have played the larger role in prolonging my agonies with your encouragement and support, well you know who you are and you owe me :) A big thanks to my critics too- you all just stimulated me to push my own limits, to be the uncommon among the many! Also I am thankful to Baba, who inculcated the gist of writing within me and stood by me in my entire journey of penning. Thank you.

Author Bio

Bisakha Das is a young girl of 18, who is an excellent declamator,freelancer, orator, writer, poet and a jack-of-all art! The eloquence in her voice, and her on-spirit writeups pushes the young progeny towards liberation and self empowerment. Her writings are filled with deep pensive thoughts, emotions, courage and empowerment. She has achieved much honour in International Anthologies too and is on her way to resume her career in English literature.

She has shown appreciable devotion, genuinety, intricacy, along with excellent team leadership and management efficiency. We see her writings creating strong impact in uplifting the quality of perceiving life. Her poetries are a source which enables her to express her grievances, grief, ideologies in a chaotic yet inspiring way. It ignites spark in the reader's heart to raise up and battle with their own demons.

She graduated from St Anne's convent school, Baripada and is presently persuing Humanities at MPC junior College, Baripada,Mayurbhanj. She had achieved many remarkable and prestigious awards and certifications for her writing, oration and leadership qualities. Her passion for literature is immense. She takes up all the criticism and drawbacks as a challenge to develop her inner strength and abilities. Her welfare deeds towards the society is worth appreciations and makes a true hero worthy of holding THE KALAM RATNA award, 2021. Her self driven passion brings glory and honour, not only to her parents and well wishers but also our society as a whole. Now, she is on her way to be the youngest solo - book author of Odisha. She stands as a true inspiration for the young progeny of our nation. We wish her a successful life head.

Index Page-1 - I am the universe Page-2 - some nights Page-3 - The graveyard of immortals Page-4 - You & I are a ritual Page-5 - Isn't that the idea? Page-6 - How do you smile with all the hurt? Page-8 - Let the ruins speak of the mighty that fell Page-9 - The aftermath of my passing Page-10 - I am not waiting for anyone but an escape Page-11 - It's the twilight that bares our secret Page-12 - The shadow of darkness? Page-13 - Drugs of hellscape Page-14 - The ally to my soul Page-15 - Men : an unspoken tale of misery & rage Page-17 - Ere the sunshine Page-18 - More self love darling! Page-19 - My love is not.. Page-20 - A talk with my chaos Page-21 - Wine on the stairs Page-22 - Unhinge : An art of help Page-24 - If I could marry the moon Page-25 - Meet me under the lighthouse lamp

Page-27 - Abandonment people call home Page-28 - You, me, in perfect symphony Page-29 - Homesick for a home, I can't return Page-30 - Song name : streetlights by the state Page-31 - How I look unmasked? Page-33 - Affection : an emotional belongingness Page-36 - I am what remains of a woman Page-39 - Brothers : life & death Page-41 - How are we living Page-44 - Hope : A long distance lover Page-47 - Vintage letters and the pen Page-48 - A/ hideaway Page-49 - Art : In the darkest poetries Page-51 -..... living the love of 60's Page-53 - Poems I'd like to forget (a series) Page-64 - The perks of being a moon friend Page-66 - Will you go out with me? Page-68 - Hiding in sleep Page-70 - That was the party for a 'lifetime' Page-71 - Unearth your soul Page-72 - Healing : another body in his collection of bones Page-90 - "yaar, who is Bisakha and why is she so adorable??"

Page no 1 I am the universe In the whistles of the moonlit night, pain has an element of blank~ It cannot reflect when it began, or if there were a day, when it was not! It has no future, but itself, Its infinite relms contain it's past, enlightened to perceive, new periods of pain! I am the moon ;romanticized often but seldom loved. I am the stars;a starry night when the moon couldn't outshine those who created their own glimmers. I could get lost, indulged and trapped in the galaxy of beams- i didn't get my light for me. I got a blank black hollowness, every time i searched for happiness for myself. So i chose to be a candle, may be less luminous, but self - lit, self- built! I desire to be fulfilled in my beings ;like a body, becoming it's own home. Heart and pain? There's so much to gain. Peace and love? It's all the same. Confusion and doubt? Were not without. We weep, we cry, we plead, we try, we laugh we smile, only to be hurt by one last trial.

Page - 2 Some Nights. Some nights are a work of art. It can be so devastatingly beautiful,that I don't mind being the hazy remains of a memory. Infact I wont even try... I was so anxious a second ago(I don't know why) that my heart could explode and take down anything in a 5 miles radius. And maybe it did Because, I could feel everything going numb, regrets flashing like an SOS before my eyes,yet hope instinctively latches at the very last moment. All I hear now, is a faint ringing in my ear, there's not a soul out in this almost barren....godforsaken land..... But only I and me could swear I never had a peace like this! To almost give up and bounce right back-the blood cursing through every cell of my being could make me scream till my lungs break out. And this moon will be the sole witness, to hopes and strength tonight! Some nights I am alive and infinite!!!

Page-3 The graveyard of immortals These days, I wonder what I would do if I ran out of poetry.

May be, I'll be glad, Knowing I have learnt to deal with my grief, without having to depend upon these moulds, where I pour words and make sense out of it all.

What makes me comfortable,is the thought that Maybe I'll suffocate, Knowing how these poems are the same convo to the demented me. And without them, I am on a ledge with noone to stop me.

What if I stopped feeling what I used to feel? Stopped feeling those gazes on my spine, Crooked with responsibilities, That weren't supposed to be mine. I guess that won't be so bad after all.

But there are these brief moments, Where I feel loved these days. What if I stop feeling that?

These days I wonder - how long before I stop being myself? Anyway, I guess we will know when the time comes! Till then.... I hope the demented me reads this and stays off the ledge!

Page - 4 You and I are a ritual. It was in that first drop of rain. I looked up with my eyes closed; a smile as faint as my sanity and lungs full of hope. The darkness glows, I'm drowning! The day has tired me with lights.

Hope smelled like distant land, drenched in agony that day. And I knew it would soon be us; You and me.... Drowning, struggling but finally still. And still somewhere, deep within; I felt free.

That day freedom tasted like, a slashing wind of passion, a fast cut on my tongue, and like a God's weapon

With an aftertaste of blood, and broken homes.

If only god knew that " you and I" we have been collecting those pieces, only to build a houseOf our own in the chaos. I mean you can't get hurt if you live in pain.

Page - 5 Isn't that the idea? You see, most days we just seem happy, we know it is not ours. Breathing air only to suffocate, waking up every morning without fail. With no aim, no reason but, same worthlessness. Most days we aren't even sure if we are alive.

So what, if we seek thunderstormsAfterall destruction has always been a home to us, than peace ever was. Afterall, it was in that first drop of rain, that we knew: god, freedom and home were all in pain!

There is a broken scarred beauty. SCARRED OR SCARED?

Page - 6 How do you smile with all the hurt?

Growing roots in your heart, Pumping poison through its stem, Bearing fruits.... As your tears, screams, curses.

We were supposed to be broken, lost, lonely and dead. But only we taught ourselves how to hope, what happiness could be, what healing could mean, what love could encompass, what you-and-I together could do!... Without realizing that it came out with a cost!

Time to time, we must go to our basic instinct to suffer, cause pain and distrust.... we can't fight these, these are all natural.

Our death is in the cool of night, our life is in the pool of day...