from the ocean at night,
I remember you.
That Polaroid photo of ours
still hanging on the wall of
my bedroom, and in it, me
kissing you by the beach,
and finding solace in you.
(Poem – Polaroid, Lines 53-60, Aaditya Bajpai)
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Polaroid
With the moon sneaking up
from the ocean at night,
I remember you.
That Polaroid photo of ours
still hanging on the wall of
my bedroom, and in it, me
kissing you by the beach,
and finding solace in you.
(Poem – Polaroid, Lines 53-60, Aaditya Bajpai) -
Expresso
She is like the recital
of that poem which stays,
something that doesn’t need
to rhyme, still wins my heart in ways.
(𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒎 – 𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐, 𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝟒-𝟕, 𝑨𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒚𝒂 𝑩𝒂𝒋𝒑𝒂𝒊) -
The Remote Control
So yesterday midnight I asked Siri to recite a poem for me and she showed me this. This poem might seem to be amusing or funny, however I have a different way of reading this.
Summary
This poem talks about how when the remote control gets lost inside the couch and when it becomes so difficult to find, life just gets messed up to a level that all we can do is roam around the room with literally no purpose.
My Vision
In all of our lives, we always look for that one person who makes us whole. We always look upto someone everyday of our life. Someone who gives us hope in times when nothing seems to be going our way.
The remote control is a metaphor referring to that person in our life. There are always times when you seem to be hating so many things about your life that you just want them to be sitting close enough so that you can lay your head on their shoulders and cry a bit. The remote is a metaphor for them.
There might be times when you just cant sit still for hours and hours in a day and when you just cannot find the right things to say. You need them because you’re so in love that all you can think about is sharing your pain with them. The remote control is a metaphor for them.
The remote is them, the couch is life, metaphorically indicating if they get lost in life, when they get so far from you that your life becomes nothing but an empty room wherein all you can do is roam here and there without purpose.
Conclusion
This all might seem far fetched to some of you and trust me that’s just absolutely fine. I love the way when people disagree with what I say, because that helps me learn more. This interpretation of the poem titled “Remote Control” by the Apple Assistant Siri, was my vision of looking towards it. I would love to hear from you all if you agree or disagree with the same and i would also love to hear your thoughts on this poem as well.
If you have read till here, then trust me, you made my life happier and I am so blessed to have you. Thank You ❤️
With Love
Aaditya Bajpai -
Wintertide
Wintertide means the times when winter subsits. We all want the winters to affect us in the ways we desire, be it in an unsympathetic way for some, or in a comfortable forgetting way for others. Winters don’t last forever. I want the winters to not last eternally, for I am waiting for my sunshine to arrive, bringing the warmth of her soul and I just want to sleep in her lap. (Spring).
I don’t want the winters to go away yet. For I still want to write about you, keep writing about you, every dusk and dawn, with a cup of tea in my hand, coffee sometimes. Winters make me make up stories about you and about how I did not fall in love with you, rather I fell in love with the idea of believing you. These stories give me words to write poetry about you and if winters are gone, where would my words come from. Like water, land and light is essential for the survival of humankind, Poetry is needed for the existence of Love, hope and magic.
You find poetry in winters and poetry comes to you in winters. Poetry is everywhere. Your hand is the ink, your eyes are the words, your lips are pen, and your heart is the paper. Believe me at last, You are the Poem.
What about the world? The world stays in its limits in winters to not disturb me while writing poems for you, about you. This “Now” is all that I have to keep writing about you, for even if we are not there, the memories of us will still exist in these poems.
But everything’s up to these winters. I am hopeful still. I’ll keep writing these winters down, and make the yellow of my diary, blue.
Adieu.
With love,
Aaditya.
Wanted to share some lines from my upcoming book “A Letter To You”.
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Aaditya Bajpai 