Monday, February 28, 2011

i spoke to her
she didn't reply
i revealed all
she dismissed
the wind was
on her side
i was too deeply
lost in the love
i was blind
i was sinking
yet i felt safe
i felt adrift
with reality
and the self
my love was
purer than me
my thoughts 

chaperoned
by her life.

Saturday, February 26, 2011


A big mug of coffee:
Some choices are ours to make…some are made by others for us…some we accept some we regret…and some we bear to live with; rather I should say dare…this is a story of that extra mile I took, to live it…that mile which made me fail myself, though I excelled in every examination…that extra mile, where, around the bend…under the big oak tree, where I saw the woodpecker go peck-peck-peck-peck…I lost the key to my self-regard…I know where to find that bend…I know the latitude which passes through it…but I am scared that I won’t know the way back. Yes I am scared to be lost inspite of knowing the way a little too well…

1:49 am on a Saturday morning:
Coffee brewed by hand tastes much better than the one paid for…the extra effort counts…the exercise keeps the wheels of thought running…they keep you happy and thinking…thinking of all the sad stuff though…I like it bitter…with less sugar I mean…the sweetness of the milk tingles the cells of my palate…I shiver reveling in its heat…

The bitter aftertaste:
It leaves a trail of taste…one which lingers on the tongue…leaves me wishing that it was gone…excessive indulgence is a bad thing they say…every negative has a positive…the shadow is, but a positive…the view from where I was perched, was broader yet veiled…

The hot stream…
It flows over the mountains and the cliffs…down the valley of my neck…and warms my heart…the salt in the lake doesn’t prevent me from plunging into the deep end…letting all the water drench the cracking land around…

"Is it abnormal to want someone to love me for my imperfectness…!!!"

Monday, February 21, 2011

Wind


Walking alongside the lake I felt the wind brush my cheeks…my hair did not float like always…the weeds growing on its banks were bent…I looked into my eyes and I knew I was not scared…my inhibitions had just floated away with the paper boat I released…every fold held a secret…I never had spoken of them before. I know not any who could decode them…the biggest of machines would fail…but without them I feel handicapped today…imagining not listening to her voice for months…having to reach home after a tiring run…will I be even able to do that…before that my road would cave in and  my clothes would wear away…my souls would have holes bigger than the eyes of the fox who stood staring at me…he had ambushed me in an alley…but I was not guilty, why would I be charged of murder…and that too mine.

You believed me didn’t you…? They believed me too…so often they have trusted me blindly and I… I have deceived every single man who walked by my path…their inhibitions have melted under my glance…a disarming smile has got me the trust of one and all…or was it trust…he looked into my eyes and said… “I shall be by your side forever”…but now he is gone. He was gone sooner than I could blink an eyelid…faster than I grew to be a big girl. His essence remained. I still can smell the musk he wore…the prickly beard, like thorns, brushed past like the wind…the roses weren’t as red as I had hoped them to be. My anticipation was widening and I was full of life and death experiences. I was blue…but blue is the colour of love…was I in love? Or was I fantasizing his exit…or may be his entry too…he never came… what will he be lost from…? My heart would bleed and the blood would not be red at all

He read my words as I screamed them out to the paper…I was laying my soul to who would like to discover…I was not a book…my pages have long been torn…they were not made of paper…wish they were…I wish they grew like the papyrus on the banks of the Nile…the nightingale perched on top of the temple…I shivered in the early morning sun as he ran taking me in his arms…we had spotted a snake…it was a barren land…barren such that it grew grass and weeds but no men

Now that area grows…it prospers they say…hotels and men…lights and food…but the early morning ray of the orange ball of fire…the visitor with the blue neck is now lost…I went to find him there…didn’t see him at all…I didn’t even see what stood there when I had walked out of the car…wrapped in woollens…now the heat smothered me

I looked out of the window…the daffodils had chosen to thrive...I heard the land was indulgent but the yellow meadow was not formed by land alone…I admired the bees which were buzzing near my ear…the water source had many clinging on to it…yet I drank that water…their sting was far away…I lied…scared yet brave

The food tasted sweet…I said I didn’t like it…but it was not the city, it was the people…who were…good…that’s the term…and sometimes digesting the good is like too much of sweet in your system…you don’t know where to take it…it makes you choke and you feel thirsty…you feel compressed…under the load of those bricks laid by the social norms we have been spoon fed…
No, I was not born with a silver spoon but I have lived my life being fed with one…maybe a platinum one I don’t know…for I am allergic to silver…and sulphur…but the letter form ‘s’ is so beautiful and powerful…a single stroke exercises my wrist…is it the reason why it is so thin…?

Imagine the world where writing could save a lot of exercise.
People would not be obese, a lot of our diseases would be eradicated…but people are typing now…is that exercise? Or formation of a couch potato…I hate television but am glued to my laptop…
The voice is irritating…I switch it off…its accent is weird…or maybe mine is…I still know what it is talking…my computer just speaks on and on…I don’t have time to listen to people…tuning to frequency is important. Maybe the radar is not switched off after all…
A flock of people block it very often; I have seen…I either speak too much or none at all…I cannot be classified as shy…I just like the gust of wind blowing across my face…but by the lake it did not blow my hair at all…

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Me and You


I love you for it is you...
I see the very soul of you when you smile at me...
The light that falls on your face and the thought of love which enlightens my very existence...
The voice penetrates me like never before...
There was never a day I didn’t look into my heart and spell your name
You peeped into my soul and knew no other could do so...
The touch as your hand slid slowly into mine and caressed my fingers...
The moment your skin brushed against mine...
I felt my heart surrender and my soul cave
The concreteness of my birth and my belief in existence stood tall.

Friday, February 18, 2011

“Please Do Not Touch”


He robbed
Me of my right
He left me
Senseless…
I thought there were five
But we were
Left adrift
He said
I could not feel
I was so maimed.
He said
I should not feel
I was ashamed.
Not of the desire
Not of me,
But that I aspire
To be closer to thee.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

The Table


A symphony
Is never made
Of a single note.
The high and
             the low
The bottom and
                 the flow
The hydrogen and
                     The oxygen
Give birth
To life
The essence
           strikes.
     A lifeless cord
         A double bond
    A single one though
A benzene ring
Volatile,
Yet there
     Stronger and
          Strain.
The push
     And the pull…
Opposite polls
Attract…
         In character
                 Repel…!!
I wish
     I wished
  I saw
        I shivered…
Yet standing
Shoulder to
        Shoulder
I feel strong…
Secure
With me.
Cut throat
          Stab
               Thrust
The hate love.
        In theory
May not be
But
      Reality
              Is for me.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

What I value about INDIA...


What I value about India is that everyone co exists.
What I value about India is that people of various cultures and languages pretend to be together yet apart.
What I value about India is we boast, “All Indians are my brothers and sisters.” But every hour there are rapes all over the country.
What I value about India is we speak of liberty and nationality only to report honour killings every day.
What I value about India is that it is a democracy.
What I value about India is in most parts I am compared to dogs.
What I value about India is we are an outspoken society today.
What I value about India is we have family bonds too strong to severe.
What I value about India is, today the name of Lord Shiva means ‘dope’ not ‘devote’.
What I value about India is I can build a home anywhere yet not be at home.
What I value about India is the rich are growing richer.
What I value about India is the time it puts in trying to be a first world country.
What I value about India is farm grown vegetables are replaced by cans on the shelf.
What I value about India is it is fighting its WARS.
What I value about India is it worships Mahatma Gandhi when reservations are set. But he is thrown out of the window when ‘ahimsa’ is concerned.
What I value about India is they value their gems more than the people digging for them.
What I value about India is the west is the only place for it to go.
What I value about India is know your rights but don’t assert.
What I value about India is it speaks of the Tata’s and the Birla’s…the Mumbai slums…the Goan beaches…the to be’s of tomorrows.
What I value about India is how we tutor ourselves in the various accents of the world.
What I value about India is the way we are holed up in our homes and not allowed to peep out.
What I value about India is the cushions we sit on are not allowed to poke us.
What I value about India is that the rich are taught never to be uncomfortable and avoid all that might lead to it…
What I value about India is that I was born here, only to be brought up in the same conditioning.

written on 26th January, 2011

after a series of Flights


I was tiny
When I took off
The projectile
Induced
The momentum
Of freedom
And thought.
I reached
The zenith
Or rather
Wished to…
Before I could pierce through
The cloud
Perch on the
Rainbow
Slide down
To the pot
Of Gold.
The gravity
Got the
Better of me…
The projectile
Descended
Mid way…
Was it a
Descend or
A drop
Down the
Cliff of
Destiny…?
Midway then,
I found a branch
A tree wavering
Yet standing
Not so tall…
I held on
For dear life
And prayed
For yet another fall.

Approach

The click of the key
Suggested
It’s an unlocked door

The tap of the heel
Told me
There was someone out there

I heard the boom…
And there I was
Naked
Exposed
I felt lifeless
I dim glow
Flooded my thought
The wispy hair flowing
It was not a lineage
It was adorned
And looked after
Like no other

Her beaded necklace
Slowly slid down
I knew
The consequence
Yet
Said nothing…
 
I wish I had.