The Promenade

By Nishtha Kumar

The book is a confluence of different phases we experience in our lives. The poetic narrative of The Promenade doesn't aim to preach but to mirror secrets hidden in the deepest corners of our hearts, which we refuse to talk about in open.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Nov 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9789388930642

Nishtha Kumar

Nishtha Kumar is a reader who found her meaning in poetry. She wants to develop her art further to open her own literature school someday. She devotes most of her time in painting and preferring Fritz Lang over Hitchcock. She travels often to break away from the world and spends solitary time, just to think. She is just waiting for the right moment to visit Kashmir. She is also a ukulele enthusiast and wants to develop the patience of a musician. Every art-form brings new meaning, after all. Currently, she is a self-employed Copywriter. Connect with her: Instagram nishthi_doi and Twitter @NishthaKumar5

Book preview

What not to do...

You go back home.

Lie on your bed.

Close your eyes,

like I have closed mine.

And not think.

Do not think about the beggars who chased you at the market today. Do not think about the poor living on the roadside.

Do not think about how you failed your exams.

Do not think about the morning’s feud with your parents.

Do not think about your teacher who told you to write that article again.

Do not think about your future job.

Do not think about the monuments in your city.

Do not think about that camera you cannot buy.

Do not think about damaged connections.

Do not think about those futile promises.

Do not think about that wrapper you threw on the street.

Do not think about that mosquito you accidentally swallowed.

Do not think about narrating your eulogy before anybody else could.

Do not think about people who do not exist anymore.

Do not think about the forgotten ATM pin.

Forget everything.

Everything.

Yes, Everything.

Oh, don’t remember me too.

Just close your eyes.

Concentrate on those whirls & circles.

They’ll hypnotize you.

They’ll force you to push all your thoughts away.

Thinking makes a man wise.

Not thinking makes a man free.

How hurtful is monotony?

The Promenade

//Same old. Same old.//

Everything in this world is so trite.

The mangoes ripened again.

Our jibber-jabber never ends.

Every day we lie to people, tell them that we love them.

We drink water because we would die otherwise.

And stub the cigarette butts on walls,

blackening their souls.

Telling each other we want to spend

our lives together over coffee;

we are on a date after all.

Fighting early morning

because veggies didn’t cook right.

Or because last night we found out about

each other’s infidelity.

The bosses kicked our asses.

And the condoms,

well chuck them - they always break.

Our sacred vows are already

taking a backseat.

You told me about Nietzsche and Einstein and Stoics and Vinci.

I told you about Romeo and Juliet and the Seventh Seal.

We are in a loop.

Doing everything all over again.

My third or no, fourth relationship, I am still the same.

Your eighth, or maybe second or hell, the first.

Still,

the same old, same old, same old.

We never change.

We remain the same.

Who was that fool calling change the only constant?

What a joke!

We are so-fucking-hacky.

//Let’s call it powder room again//

Here I am at this party,

I never wanted to be in.

A glass of Chardonnay keeping me company.

A long lost friend spots me,

And asks me what’s