An endless fictional story of boundless union beyond matter of words and touch.

Nishchal Kesarwani
May 30, 2017 · 8 min read

April, 2014

Sorry. Been busy.
Today afternoon was lazy, and of its kind, perhaps not the last.
Unlike an afternoon in the recent past,
of hearing you sing for me.
Today afternoon I heard you just sing usually.

Anyway, evening has been high in spirt.
All I needed was a ball.
To fill for the scarcity of your spirited phone call.

Amidst all that,
I keep graduating at
the key pad
to write to you
Some of which I write on my personal notes, and some here, but few.
Nothing new.
Except, thinking, how to move back to the state of absence of your absence.

From the state I was in before I heard your sound once. A state of omniabsence of your absence, in my 30+ years of presence — to arriving at some sense of the presence of your absence with our very first call; up till achieving the fragrant omnipresence of your absence.

I seem consumed in the imagination of a future of your omnipresence. While, to me you seem to be consumed in the absence of my absence. I still wish to know from you, do you feel the presence of my absence?

I also wish you were fasting,
For then, we would be talking.
But if not,
I will do with your already heard sounds of the past,
which will remain, forever lasting.

I need your sound for I have not been well,
A heavy boys stud wearing foot fell on my toe
I will now not play for many days in a row.
On my toe, I suspect, the pain will grow.
The pain has been excruciating
And heart has been reverberating
Leading me into fever.

Hold me like an orangutan
To heal
To hug
To kiss
To seal
By the river
Oh my lover

I need a big hug peaceful dove
and a soul stirring kiss to fuse
with a base of boundless love to heal
my dear beautiful muse

By the way, that day I missed your calls.
Yesterday, I didn’t call. My bad.
I was too occupied.
N madly in, work.
Hope that’s okay with you.
But if not,
Give me a clue.

I will spend my night and day in your clue’s thought.
Thanks for giving me a few lines
Of one of the paragraphs
And inspiration
For this compilation
About this beautiful complication :)

Like Last night,
I wanted to pick you from my dreams and hug you for real.
well, that is usual.
You in my arms was also usual.
Did you say every night, forever, that is how it is and will be?
Did I tell you I don’t feel or sleep well when you are not with me?Exclusively.

While your absence makes the heart grow fonder.
It makes the rest of me pretty lonely.
And soul very hungry.
And me older.

Before such starvation
Give me salvation
Amidst all the busy-ness,
Call me tonight if I occur in your heart again,
Share with me if there is still some pain.
Don’t let it and us fade in vain.
Someday somethings, through your voice, I hope you explain.

I rejoice at your voice.
Art is the way to decorate space.
Music is the way to decorate time.
You are how I decorate my self.
Your voice is how I decorate the inside of my spine.

All of these are just a writer’s words to the universe.
If you mind
I will put it in reverse
And go back to
Of solo walk
In your by lane.
Spot me someday
And make me some way
To your heart
Even if I fart
After my first meal cooked by you
Ending with a lemon tart, but it ended with a fart.
Sorry about that.

Why didn’t I call now?
I was also a little sad.And thought, you would already be on a call or two.

On one such sullen day when you were sad too, I told you
Live such days down, not drown in them.
On tomorrow, is carved your name.
Today may not be your game.
Somedays may try to blow you away
Let them really not be your day

Remember our fire
It will burn each of your tear
If not today
For sure
The next day
Stand your ground
Don’t sway
Remember I said, catharsis is on its way.
Although, singularity may still be at a bay.
Stay alive to witness with me that play.
I prepare for it anyway, even if today is not our day.

Let your tea be boiling,
And if there are cold winds this day
Drink it cold anyway
Don’t fight the wind
Stop the boiling of the tea
Wind will stop too
Then go start boiling tea again.
To stress over it, is lame.
To smile regardless, is main.
When the going gets tough,
The tough gets going

So, don’t blame the team,
The team has a captain
The captain has a back drop
The back drop has a solution
The captain has to dissolve
In the gaps between separation
from team, time, self, space.
And then quit the race, of the surface.
To be re born, as a captain with new grace, of the root base.

You are beautiful deep down captain,
from your sparkly eyes,
to you thoughts all the way to your soul,
Tune into me again and make me wise
So I can no more be a fool in the emptiness of your absence.

The emptiness after
the emptiness before
your folklore.
Which emptiness was fuller
I don’t know
So I ignore until I know to which point must I restore.

I hear the songs of love
to water my fertile heart,
Which otherwise gets wilted
talking to you one sided
silently and unguided
through each night as if it were my last,
like the one I will just pass.

If I had written or said anymore,
You would have shut me short
as if my words were some stormy roar
By saying “you gotta CALM DOWN man”.
There dies our fleeting romance.
So don’t wait for my word
It’s nipped in the bud.
If it pleases you,
dust off our residue as mud.

The fragrant tree, of her and me

30th, May 2015

I don’t want to talk to you either.
But I will write to your ether.
Not because I have an attitude
But because I am a fit only in solitude.

Here I was burdening
There you can’t shut me from wondering
Wondering if you will talk to me
only when you talk to me proudly teasingly blatantly,
Or will you talk to me silently fervently sensitively too, like I do.

Once I did ask you if you talk to me silently
among the few asked and many unasked questions,
Among the few answered and many unanswered answers,
your answer was, “a lot”
A lot I thought maybe unnecessary.

I heard it then, I heard it many times over silently again, in every passing night. “A lot” in silence, with a friend, is rare.

Yet “a lot”

It took me to a sleepless spot
Where I duck my head under a pillow
With my fists and feet cringing
And the child inside me crying.

If you chose not to answer why and what
You will make my fertile heart inert.
And me calmed down again
Like a child with boundless energy
Such is your society
where, I will lose my gravity
in your beautiful face
etched in my particular cavity
Oscillating to and fro, gravitas to grace

Tears in love are so graceful and fluid,
If that never happened to you with my thought before you sleep
You are missing something so lucid,
But not, if you love someone else.
I hope then all is placid.

If “a lot” has the same weight
As many of your other transient words
In passing of the meaning to oblivion
As you allow them to, before fruition
Like you said you don’t hug,
But you are still put to sleep, in my arms
And eat in my lap
Forever and PERMANENTLY.
In 100% your own words, perhaps misleadingly.

That is what I mean
By the idea of you
It is different from you.
Blame me.
Not thee.
For it is now looking like a matter of my perception
Not so much your action.

Once again in your ephemeral words was announced the idea of number one and two
I was now to be gauged within your defined boundary of number two.
Till I realised
That none of what I say to you
I say to you
I say it to my idea of you.

That idea is mine, that idea is not you,
it is merely my idea of you.
A reality braided with fiction
Made of sunshine and ghost
To this idea, I am its number one host.

No romance with me, you said.
I said, then dust off the residue as mud.
I will add in that mud a seed of your touch.
Plant it in a forest
On the most beautiful star studded night
By a mesmerising waterfall
And wait to build a house on it
When it grows into a fragrant tree!

The tree will have a visitor from my past life or a recent surreal dream,
Now I will have some cooked food by her in this raw forests ‘s moon leam
Divine says, she and I will become lovers again by then
Celebrated by our new four legged friends
while watching in the sea of caramel popcorns,
I dream of jeanie, Alif laila,
Lion king, Disney movies,
some horror series, and 3 stooges.

Then one day of her fast,
while I will be gone far to get some fresh juicy fruits
She will walk away abruptly without a goodbye, but leave her heart.
History will repeat itself in natures cyclic cart.

Her heart will beat
Only in dark
So darkness I will become
In the shadow of her heart

Now I won’t see no dawn, no day,
I will just lay
To pass away
In this forest of wild incarnations, black rose,
lion king, swat cats,
gummy bears, orangutans, wild bats
Wild orchid, wild lilies
And the fading vibe of us two sillies

Hoping one day
Back she will come
to our tree home
And if that day I am dead,
I don’t want to burn
I want to be buried instead
in that trees bed, like our residue
so I could be consumed
by the fragrant tree
To live in her fragrance till eternity.

I just want to love you in depth.
Deep is silent, only not dead, its still.
Perhaps that’s why I won’t call or make my presence be felt.

Anyway, please continue to call me at will.
You with me,
even if across a phone,
makes a world of difference to me
in the moments in which you are with me.

Take care of your health
loosen your belt
sit in shashankasana
with arched back,
chest inflated
hands raised and stretched.

Improve your relationship with sun (and sunny :)
with them, you don’t fight
sun was all there was for light.
in times before electric bulb,
so let them gently reach your pulp.

if you look to avoid sun
away will vitamin d run

(and if you avoid sunny
his life won’t be funny
nor will he have any money)

I am sorry

No ego

I love you

good night


5th, June, 2015

Continued on Unbridled compassion or unbridled passion

The Preseed

If we have the ability to ask ambitious questions, one day we will have our answers. That day we will innovate, to improve the world. This is where some of Nishchal’s thoughts about and his life come to words. These are tales of love and progress stitched together.

Nishchal Kesarwani

Written by

I am made up of whims. I inspire ideas, faith & action @thepreseed. On medium, I write my first quick drafts of some things that matter to me-mostly freedom.

The Preseed

If we have the ability to ask ambitious questions, one day we will have our answers. That day we will innovate, to improve the world. This is where some of Nishchal’s thoughts about and his life come to words. These are tales of love and progress stitched together.

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