Creative Writings
My writing is a personal journey of self-expression and reflection, and I hope to inspire others to connect with their own emotions and experiences through my work. These projects reflect my unique perspective and approach to creative writing and offer readers a glimpse into my world. Explore my projects below and discover the beauty and power of words.
01
Tiptoeing
On her toes, steady as butterflies flying up and down.
Tiptoeing, she closed her eyes. One step forward, two behind.
He came closer, yet it was far from her touch.
Yearned for that intoxicating rush. Blood was restlessly pumping through the narrowing rivers scattered all over the silhouette of her heart.
Deep blue velvet in his eyes, she ran into the waves, the ocean was her home, every single night.
Every look, each moment passing by, she got carried away, swept off her feet with every little tide.
Pale red rays of sunlight found their way through the gloominess of the night. Thunders in her chest, she swam into the depths of time.
It felt new, tho it was all an echo of the hushed memories, she had lived through it, in all of her past lives.
Head under the water, vision was lost, yet again, she reached for his touch. Held her in his arms, waves stood still, no need to run.
Her lips were rosy, he had a taste for the sweetness of cherries in the summertime.
A moment frozen in time, in the hypnotic rhythm of the waves, they became one.
The roaring flames of their touch gleamed through the weaved blanket of night. The sky had turned red, just like cherry wine.
An old soul, returned to a new life.
It was all too familiar, like a montage of the bittersweet instants from her past lives.
By and by, thunders found their way out of her chest. The ocean in his eyes blended into the sky. Hand in hand, the murky clouds hung low in their hearts. Close they came to the blaze escaping their silky skin that once kept them warm.
The waves washed off the taste of the cherry chapstick from her lips, far away from the dry land, summer was long gone.
Lost in the blue, they hung by a thread. Will her thunder make it rain, or make sparks fly.
It’s her last ticket to this planet, memories are compiling, she’s the star of this montage.
Racing against time, savour every second, the final sequence is a must watch.
-Baharak
02
Gnossienne No. 1
Just like a French film, it’s colourful. Starts with a hint of chaos, just to take it to a new level of craziness shortly after.
The blue light that’s being reflected on the walls is slowly changing colours. Rays of purple and pink, even some red peaking through. A calm violet is filling the room.
Gnossienne No. 1 is playing on repeat. All the familiar notes that we’ve all heard before. Looking out the window to check if the lights are still changing colours. They are indeed. In harmony with the piano playing in the background.
A cold breeze has found it’s way in now. Slowly but surely, bringing in the news that the winter has finally arrived.
It’s going with the flow, all seems to be in line. Who drew the line?
Softly moving with the rhythm, their toes hurt but the show must go on.
It’s the calm before the climax. Lights are still in sync with the piano keys moving up and down softly. It’s slowly turning red, hinting at a new wave to come.
First climax. The deep burgundy is ready to escape the room, but we’re still only half way into the film. Chaos has yet to accompany the cold breeze. Wait till the lights change colour. It’s all too blue now.
Each stroke creates a new melody of its own. Blue slowly fades away, just like the cold breeze that’s pushing the warmth out. Shivers down the spine, but it all lasts as long as that one crocked smile on your lips, when your eyes first met.
It’s only four minutes long. Keep playing it on repeat. It only gets better from here. Lights change colours faster. The show must go on.
Second, third, fourth, and…count is lost. The climax isn’t the same anymore. The sound of the piano is now too familiar. Like that one memory that’s locked away in the back allies of the walnut we were given to safe keep in our fragile skulls.
Dancing lights, lines get blurry, but the show must go on.
Oh putain! The French film is still on. You know the drill, who is to decide how it ends?
- Baharak
03
خونه
.هیچ جز خاطره باقی نیس
گذشت اون روز ها که مشقارو تند تند تموم میکردم و عصر با دوچرخه تو کوچه تازه خیس خورده از نم بارون با بابا دور دور میکردیم
روز هایی که همه چی امن و امان به نظر میومد
اما عوض شدی! یا شایدم، من بزرگ شدم و با دو تا چشم گرد شدم، آسمون اینور دنیا رو رنگی تر دیدم.
اما یادمه، من چیزی نبودم جز یه پرنده، آماده پرواز
تورو رها کردم و اومدم به سرزمین رنگین کمونا
دیگه چیزی ازت نمونده، یه سری خاطرات نیمه تاریک و تار که فقط دریچه قلبمو بیشتر تنگ میکنه
...شاید یه روزی خورشید سوزان آسمون آبی اینور ابرهای تاریک دل تنگمو باز کنه
...اما تا اون روز بیاد، اگه بیاد
ای کاش هنوز هم بازار رشت پر از سبد های دستبافت حصیری رنگی رنگی باش
کاشکی هنوز کوچمون پر برف ترین کوچه تهران باشه
بگو، هنوز دربند شباش چراغونیه؟
اینور دنیا حال و هواش فرق داره…دیگه سخت شده نوشتن، ت یا ط؟
اولین جای امن من تو بودی، اما من دنبال یه خونه جدید، یه خونه امن‌تر
سالها گذشت در تلاش این که یادت رو زنده نگه دارم
اینبار اما، خاطره ها دیگه جوابگو نیستن
دیدم که خیابونات با خون قرمز شد ولی بارون اشک‌هامون همه رو شست و برد تو دریا
دریای خزر قرمز شد و دل من آبی رنگ. سرد شد و خاموش که شاید درد کمرنگ بشه
به خودم گفتم، اما…اما شاید هنوز هم عصرای تابستون تو کوچه ها آب میپاشن
شاید هنوز رشت بازارش پر از ماهی سفیده
شاید هنوزم تو کوچه ما برف بیشتر میاد
...شاید چند ماه دیگه باز دریا آبی بشه
دلم و با این چهارتا خاطره خوش کنم، یا بیام و ببینم که دیگه توام عوض شدی و نشناسمت؟
من که پای رفتن داشتم، تو چرا گذاشتی برم و گفتی دیگه بر نگرد؟
اشک‌هام مثل تگرگ های بهاری که اهالی تهران رو با بوی خاک خیس خورده به جای بوی دود سورپرایز می‌کرد، از گونه هام میچکه پایین
قصه از اینجا شروع شد. حلزون لاکش و شکست و عزمش و جزم کرد تا به دریا برسه…باشد که صدفی خالی خونه‌ی جدیدش بشه.
حلزون به دریا رسید، به زیر صدفی بلورین خزید، ته وجودش اما، با یاد جنگل های پوشیده از خزه های سبز، شبهای نمناک شنی رو به صبح می رسوند
ساحل زیبا بود و دلربا. انعکاس نور آفتاب از روی صدف بلورینش همه رو به وجد می آورد
حلزون اما، هنوز دلش پیش لاکش بود.
ماه ها گذشت، ساحل آبی پر کرد صدف بلورین حلزون رو از قصه های آفتاب و خاطرت روزهای کوتاه جنگل، کم رنگ و کم رنگ تر شدن
خواست که برگرده خونه، اما دیگه لاکش با خاک جنگل یکی شده بود.
حالا مانده حلزونی با صدفی که خاموش کرده نجواهای جنگل رو
حلزون خواست که به خانه سر بزند، اما نمیدانست که قوانین جنگل، عوض شده دگر باره
حلزونی ماند و صدفی بر دوش. زمزمه امواج دریا پر کرد گوش او، و نوای نسیم جنگل، لبریز کرد صبرش را
ای حلزون، به راستی خانه ات کجاست؟ به کجا چنین شتابان؟
-بهارک