staring into space...

knowing what you want...

unable to ask...

remembering the look

the glowing eyes

the concern...

the small actions...

the smile...

will it be there...

still and again...

will it be there...

forever and more...

will it be there...

with the other one...

will it be there...

when i have none.

I seem to..

I seem to be going nowhere...
the threshold beckons to me,
I see him standing on the other side.
I seem to be staring too long...
the pinhole lets in the light,
I fail to capture the picture within.
I seem to be standing still...
the images rush by my side,
I crave to capture a few.
I seem to be holding on...
I know its just time,
I try to ink my mind.
I seem to be reading awhile...
the words and pages flow by,
I wish to sing along.
I seem to be humming...
its an old time song...
The drapes have fallen.
The real drama just begun,
The actors are walking..
Away from the blazing sun.

I walk into an empty room,
An ominous room.
Almost everyday.
The quiet vibrates by eardrum,
My heart beats faster than ever.
I walk into the quaint darkness,
I look around,
Often grabbing the first chair I get.
My eyes are wide open.
I pretend I am reading.

I suddenly hear something,
A whisper in the silence.
It sure wasn't the fan.
Or the chair I had just pulled.
It wasn't the fountain outside,
Or the faint sound of traffic.
I can still hear it somewhere.
I look around.
I pretend I am reading.

A set of features, stare at me
from under the table across;
The queer look in those eyes.
I stare back.
My heart beat slows,
My eyes shrink back to normal.
I stop hearing the sound.
I sit back.
And I finally start reading.

I stood at the edge of the road,  as I see the cars zooming past, I wonder, will I ever grow up?
Will i let myself go..? I had let my hair down years ago...they fly with the wind...with every car zooming past they go another mile.
but my feet remain rooted...almost dug half a mile deep into the sand...and yet my heart wants to fly...!
I often remember the dream I had years ago...a recurrent one...
The flying chair...I enjoyed it...loved it...for it would take me away...far far away...
And suddenly the distance would scare me...I was insecure...
suddenly the fact that i was free scared me...may be I was just scared of being out there.
How can someone be both in love with being alone, exploring and yet crave for company?
How can someone so craving for some thought time not be able to sit alone and eat.
Is she scared of the ridicule? Is she scared of the thoughts?
Is she may be scared of herself...? or what she might discover under those heavy rocks...
The girl every now and then resurfaces...
the smiles collide..!!!
the cars are still zooming past and my mind flies..!!!

The piece

A piece fell from the sky,
Right through my heart it flew;
A piece from it I did pry;
And I showed it to them few.
At the piece they looked;
At the sky they stared;
At the piece they looked;
Of me, they were scared.
They lowered their gaze,
They exchanged slight stares;
They lifted their eyes
in a unified blaze.
I stood alone,
one amongst all.
I stood for long,
Waiting for yet another fall.
A piece flew through the sky,
Right at my heart it flew;
A piece from me it did pry;
And I bet, they showed it to you too..!

Borne with guilt

I was born guilty,
So was she,
so was she, she and she
For,
We were borne,
in the age of men
I was born guilty.
My destiny is frozen,
I ignite a flame,
It is extinguished,
I reignite the flame.
For,
I was born guilty.
I was borne by trust.
I was borne with love.
I was born afloat in dust.
I was cloaked with lust.
I was born guilty.
My hands are tied,
My lexicons sealed;
My ambitions rejected,
My needs thrown to destiny.
For,
It was I who were born guilty
For,
It was I who had committed the Sin
For,
It was I who bore you.
Yes,
Of that I am guilty.
Of that,
I was born guilty.

DO i want to be anyone but me?

ask me the question, will I ever not want what has made me who i am...and I would say no...there are so many who would say a yes we assume, but do they?
I am who i am because I was born this way.
"you will never change" is what Often hits me and i wonder do I want to?
i have often dreamt of what i would be or where i could be if i weren't here but trust me...
i would not be happier than now...for what i was gifted with was = is my reality.
i love it
i cant believe i have blamed it for so long...and accepting it today is what makes me happy...
is what makes me smile, not with effort...
how do i explain to the world that "my condition" is not a vice...
its my little boon...my precious
and I would love to keep it the way it is...
the way I am.