Saturday, August 28, 2010

Immedicable


How incapable he had become

Of a normal way of dealing with her

Every thing she said or did

Reminded him of a past that she created in his head

That she had moved out of

He believed she had moved out of it

Yet it was he who was now stuck in it.

How much ever he tried to outlive the past

Fragments of it, stuck to his ankles,

Like creepers of some monster hidden under the earth,

Pulling him back,

Making him insecure, suspicious, jealous,



He had lived a lifetime without ever feeling those emotions,

She had brought those on him in an instant,

And no matter how hard he tried to rid himself of those,

They had come into his life and would perhaps keep raising,

Their ugly head, till he can face them and fight them.


He is sorry, he ever felt them first,

Never knew they will take hold of him,

And conspire to change what he had been, forever
And always make him a monster in her eyes...

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

My solo audience and a dead response


This is not a poem. Everyday after school, my daughter sits at our hall. I can see her looking at me from the corner of her eye as she opens her school bag. From it she takes out her art book and other tiny books. She heaves a tired sigh as she begins to leaf through the pages.

I make it a point to accidentally go and sit next to her. Accidentally, I peek at what she is seeing. And then I say "Wow! That is such a wonderful picture!" or "My god, you write really well." She smiles. And I can see her joy welling up inside her.

For her, most of what she does, is for me alone. She will soon grow up. A day will come when I will continue to be proud of her. I will continue to tell her "My god. How wonderfully you write." And she will say to me "Will you stop being such an embarrassment?".

By then I will have got so used to praising her, and so used to actually being proud of her, that I will not be able to stop myself. Not be able to stop being an embarrassment. And she will never know why I so gush after her.

It is different with someone older. When I write something or take a picture nowadays, I don't even care to show it to the world. The world has a way of praising all the wrong things. And saying all the wrong things as criticism. There is only one person I care to write or take pictures for. I show them only to that person. My solo audience.

And every time I put up a poem or take a picture, I wait for my one and only audience to react to it. Sometimes, almost a week has passed. And I've waited for a response. Like a dying tree waits for rain. And when I see that she has time for everyone else, but my work, which is essentially ONLY for her, it hurts.

I have to find a solution to that within myself. If I hurt, I am to blame, because I expect a reaction. A response. If I can so re-construct myself that responses and reactions are out of my system, where I create for the pure act of creating itself, that day, maybe, things will be a lot different.

And my single audience can react to everyone else, whoever they choose to be worthier than me.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

All that he had...


He was sleeping
She on him
His hands around her
The smell of her, reassuring
Her ear to his heart
Listening to his heartbeats,
That were She to him
Her heart beating soft
On his belly
Once in a while he drifted off to sleep
Holding her tenderly
He saw a burning cigarette
Approach his eyes
Their burning embers threatening
To singe his pupil
He awoke with a start
His arms had eased their hold on her
In his sleep his muscles had given way
Now he held her firmly again
Held on to her
Felt her steady breath on him
And felt reassured
But then again...
He saw himself falling
Down an endless flight of stairs
Woke up with a jerk
Again he saw...
His hands had eased around her
She moved her beautiful head once
Disturbed by his sudden movement
And went back to sleep
"Hold on to her"
He told himself
"Save yourself from being burnt, tortured or slain"
She was all he had to save himself.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

All these are for you...




A squirrel scrambled through the branches at night.
It was not the time squirrels loiter about,
Bats might get them,
Snakes might be crawling,
But this was a hungry squirrel,
And had not the ways to control it's hunger.

It scourged around and finally found a nut.
Holding it up to see it in the dark,
The squirrel saw the moon behind the nut,
It stood there looking,
Looking at it brought tears to it's eyes.
An angel passing asked the squirrel
"What do you want?"
The squirrel replied
"Maybe someone will give me the moon someday"
And my hunger will be quenched.

Lifted it's tiny paws up to wipe its nose,
Squeak squeak it said twice,
The moon made no noise back,
It just radiated,
silent and spectacular,

The Angel smiled,
"But I have already given it away to someone"
She looked at the squirrel kindly
"But that is what I want, give it to me"
said the Squirrel.
More tears in it's eyes.

"If you don't like it belonging to another,
I'll hide it from you.
But what is given to another,
Can't truly be given to you"
Said the angel, and with a wave of her hand,
She hid it away.
saying "What do squirrels want to do with the moon anyway?"

The squirrel crawled back into it's burrow dejected,
saying "I want the moon, or nothing else."

You can hide it from me,
But it is there,
And I want it.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

More moon-like than the sun...


And this is what has happened...
He lives for a 4 O clock to happen to him
Every day his sunrise...
Till then he survives.

At 5 the sun sets on him before it sets on the world,
And he begins to die,
A little every moment till the morning,

In between, he anxiously glances
At the one flash of sundrop on his instrument,
To make him breathe another moment.

Sometimes he is lucky,
Often he isn't,
Cause setting down,
The sun forgets him till the morning,
And has other work to do,
Another side of the planet to light up...

While the rest of the world has it's own sun that dawns,
He gets a blink of his, on the instrument,
And again a void for a long long time,
Till it is sunrise time.

But somewhere deep within his heart,
There is an ache,
A gnawing doubt,
A fear for inevitability...

That one day,
His sun might not dawn at 4.
It had happened to him before,
For a few days, weeks, months,
He had lived without the sun.

His crops had wilted,
His seasons gone haywire,
His livestock had died..
He had survived though
And had even thought,
He might get used to living without it

But who can live without the sun?

What kills him,
Is that one day
His sun might not dawn at all, ever...
Then at least, will he get his moon?

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Reunion


And they sat there
Like rebellious youngsters
Trying to feel rebellious
Once again
Smoking pot
Drinking reeking rum
Swaying their heads to Nusrat

Hoping to capture that moment...
When they bought that last bottle of the cheapest drink there was
With all their monies put together
Begging the owner of the cheap bar
To let them drink and shack there till morn

The lovers among them stole out
To make love beneath docked fish boats on the beach
While friends in vicinity kept guard
For them to consummate their most sacred act

The smoke rose today
And the alcohol shimmered in the glass
Here and there, they all had grayed a little

And they sat
In one of the most expensive suites
In one of the most expensive hotels
In one of the most expensive cities

Pretending they were still rebels
Just that... Now they had only themselves
To rebel against.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Violation...


"I showed it to someone"
She said
"He says he is dumbfounded,
That it is absolutely beautiful"
Silly of me to feel violated
Felt like someone saw us through a keyhole
Cause I thought this space
Was just for me and her
But then, her's
were words of literature too
Mine were private heartbeats
meant for two...

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Forever


With you,
Forever too,
Seems like an hour...
And forever too will pass,
And eternity will pass,
And time will touch infinity and come to a still,
And I'll be standing with you,
Both wanting more...
And all will begin once again...

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

For sometime now


For sometime now...
I will avoid
driving up that parking lot
and looking down at the city

For sometime now...
I will desist
sitting by the window
of my favorite coffee place

For sometime now...
I will resist
looking at the seat next to mine
in the car

For sometime now...
I'll close my eyes
When I pass "our house"
on that road out of the city

For sometime now...
I'll check madly
to see if you're ok
to see if you still think of me
to see if you want to talk to me...

After sometime...
You'll be with me
Or I'll make all this a habit
Forever....

Found


They called me lost,
I was the guy with a dazed look,
Never present,
Always past or future.

My head was full of
ambition
stories
music
scenes
pictures

And then you came
They all got swept away
I have no regret
I could lose it all a million times
Just for you...

You found me
And I found myself through you
But they still call me lost....

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Scars 2 (Scarred too)


Every single memory
Every single word
Every single image
Continues to haunt me
And it won't go away
Brings more tears
Each time I think of them
I fear to mention them
Cause it brings tears to your eyes
I can't bear your tears
I can bear mine
But the scars are there
scarring into me
clawing their fangs into my heart
not letting me live my present moment
tugging me back to those humiliating yesterdays
that I want to forget
Remedy them
Erase them
Salve them
balm them
Make me live again
Bring me to life....

Monday, May 31, 2010

The dance...


"What are we supposed to do
After all that we have been through"
The sad song blared on
People danced with joy
Lights flashed
Drinks passed
Smoke sailed up seductively
Like the girls who danced
To get attention
But his gaze was beyond the dance floor
At the city's lights burning bright
Someone screamed "The night is young"
I am not, he thought
As always wondering at the hysteria of it all
A sad song
And people dancing in gaeity
He didn't dance
He didn't drink
He didn't lose himself in smoke
The sadness in the song was doing it to him
And he was thinking of her...

Friday, May 14, 2010

Angel






An angel
Met a devil once
And they hit off
On an even stream
The devil became angelic
and the angel wingless
The devil tore her down
Made her brown
Turned himself white
And flew
And she could only
see herself drown...

sorry...




Your tears,
Your fears,
Your sorrow,
Your sorry,
Your sleepless nights,
Sometimes I wonder,
Is this all I have to offer?
If so why suffer me?
All I wanted to do
was to build you
And I end up breaking you
time and time again
Can't no longer bear this pain
Cause when I say sorry
I know and you know,
It's a crime...
For too many times
have I said it
and it has been in vain....

Thursday, May 13, 2010

The written


He sat to write,
And by writing to forget,
And by forgetting to ignore,
What had become of him..

He wrote,
Recreated it all,
And it all came back to haunt him,
Possessed him,
Overwhelmed him,
And he wasn't himself anymore
once more...

So he sat to write,
To forget, to ignore,
Once more...

Scars


Scars are like that,
Like a wound in your gums,
Like an itch in your head,
Like a deformation you can't resist seeing,
Like a lewd picture,
Like a sour pickle,
Scars are like that,
You keep going back to them...

Kiss..


"Not the lips,
It is bad"
She said,
I smiled...

A few days later,
she let me kiss her lips,
and said "I love you"
While I did...

I froze,
With those three words,
she told me all
that was inside me
I died.

Watery patterns


It was raining softly outside,
Creating watery patterns of my windshield
Once a frown, once a heart, once a tear,
We used to call it "our place",
My car, parked under a tree,
And I turned my gaze to her.

She had been reading intently for a while now,
Conversations between me and him...

She turned page after page eagerly,
I had done the best I could,
to convince him that she was the one for him,
I told her so.

After poring through those pages
with all her heart,
She put them away,
Put her head on my lap,
and whispered..
"He will never forget her"
And I heard in her heart
"He will never be mine"

I ran my fingers through her hair,
It pained to see her pain,
I turned to face the window pane,
From outside, it would look
Like there were tears in my eyes,
But it was just watery patterns of the rain.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Valued

"There's something I need to tell you." She said
"I think I'm falling in love."
He smiled. It seemed cute.
"I stayed up till two last night, talking to him,
messaging him."
He smiled. He told her things will work out for her.

"I want to hold his hand."
She messaged him.
"I can't resist it."
He smiled, but his brain seemed to be playing tricks with him this time.

"Hey! how have you been?" She said a few days later.
"Been to a lunch meeting. How are you?" he asked.
"Hold on a sec please, he's on the other line. Will call you back."
She said and hung up.

He waited for hours without getting her call.
Two days later they met again.
He had stolen off 2 hours for her.
Cancelled meetings, held up assignments.

She didn't say it, but he knew he was her best friend.
Her phone rang.
And she began to talk.
She gave him his ipod.
He stuck it in his ear, but didn't switch on the music.
Just lay there shaking his head, so she can speak.
She spoke and spoke and spoke.

For nearly an hour, till he decided
that even his time for being a best friend,
had value.
He said "fuck you" and wanted to walk out.
When he realized,
that it wasn't his time,
but her, that he valued... and saw slipping away.

Till today, he regrets
that no one stays up late at night to talk to him,
no one cuts another call to talk to him,
no one keeps another waiting
cause his time is of more value.
There is nothing that hurts him more than to know
that he has a little lesser value...

Friday, April 23, 2010

all night talk

Will be wonderful to go
And kill myself in the snow
Wish I could be
worth talking all nightie!
I know it's a hopeless attempt at rhyme
In this futile pantomime...

Monday, April 12, 2010

Gotcha!

There is a dry, withered flower,
On the dashboard of my car

Last night I opened the window
And it flew out.
I braked, and ran out like a madman after it,
It danced and laughed in the wind
But I got it and brought it back
Smiling at it "gotcha!"

I saw a little boy staring at me
from the roadside
I must have seemed fascinating to him
Or plain insane.


Laugh

I slept hoping for a wake-less sleep,
And Awoke from a sleepless sleep,
Looked at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror,
Hair I had torn in frustration all night,
And the saddest expression in the world stared back at me.

Someone told me once,
"Can YOU feel sad?
When you do,
Just look at the mirror
And see how ridiculous you look."

I did look ridiculous
And I got smiling
At the absurdity of it all
The smile got wider
I tried to feel more sorry for myself
My smile broke into a grin
I tried to convince myself
that I was worth sympathy
And between the grin I heard a giggle.

And broke into a laugh.
"What are you laughing about?"
My mother asked me.
"A joke I remembered"
I said.
"Whatever you are laughing about,
It is good to hear you laugh,
Anything is better than the way you have been
The past few days."


I hope this laugh stays with me
But I'll not look into the mirror when I laugh
Cause it looks scary.

Broken

I said I'm broken
And want to let them know I'm broken
And she said
Don't let them know I broke you...
I broke further...

Maybe

He stood at the platform
And remembered his friend say

"It is easy if you get used to it,
Just stand at the entrance,
And you'll get pushed inside.
Stand at the exit and you'll get pushed out.
Mumbai trains
Are easy to use."

He lay there,
Fallen beside the track,
Giddy.
Got up.
Waited for the train to pass.
To get back on the platform.

He had stood there at the entrance,
Got pushed in
And pushed out of the other door.
And landed on gravel.

Next time someone tells you
That something is easy
Just smile "Maybe"

Deactivate myself

Deactivated
in a click,
All the pictures,
Poetry,
Memory,
New found friends,
Just a click
And they were gone.

He had no traces of them left,
Anywhere.

He sat looking at the screen,
For a long time,
Absent minded.

Thinking
Now if only he could
click once more
and be deactivated too...

"Amma tells you that she has dance practise
You have to make coffee for yourself
And get me ready for school"

He turned to see his five year old
Looking at him
with that exasperated eyes of her mother,
Chiding him for being so absent minded all the time.

He picked her up
sat her on his lap
Ran his fingers through her curly angel hair

And mused
"Deactivate myself...?"
Even if you hate living,
For some of us,
It is a curse.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

She stepped out

The light turned red.
I stopped the car.

We had spent the morning together.
We had got a full one and a half hours,
And I was in bliss.

"I can't live a moment without you"
She said
squeezing my hand

The light turned green,
In a few minutes from now,
She would get off.

"How will you spend your time?"
She asked.
"Don't worry, I'll find things to do,
There's anyway lots I have to do"
I said, sounding casual.

I couldn't see her go,
The time she stepped out of my car
Is the time I wanted her back the most
And my mind exploded at that moment,
Everytime.

"How long will it take you?"
I asked
Hiding the choking within my voice

"An hour, an hour and a half"
She said,
squeezed my hand again
And got out.

I sat at the coffee shop.
Looking at dried flowers
falling from a tree,
withered...

A couple sat at the other table
Cozying up closer
Clicking pictures of each other

I knew I'd never be able to take pictures of her with me
Even if she didn't stop me
That was an unwritten rule I had read in her eyes
One day, she would be gone
And I'd not have a picture of ours together

I looked at my watch
An hour had passed
And each second I had grown more restless
Missing her,
Wanting her back
I was sure she too must be thinking of me,
Wanting to be back in my arms,
To be cradled and nursed...

I ordered a second coffee
A salesman from across the wall called out to me
He had some incense sticks in hand
"Buy one of them"
He said, more like a command
I nodded my head and turned away
I could hear him leave,
Cursing me under his breath.

I looked at my watch again.
It was nearly two hours.
I looked at my phone.
I had done it hundreds of times in the last two hours.
Hoping to read "Will be done in ten minutes"
Or "Sorry I'm getting late. Will get out of here soon and text you."
Or atleast "I'm missing you."

It was past two and a half hours now.
I hoped she hadn't lost her mobile.
Or hadn't run into traffic in her absent mindedness
Oh god please no!
Why can't she be more careful.

Finally the mobile rang
I jumped at it.
"Can you pick me up in ten mins?"
It said.
A rush of relief and joy.

I signaled to the waiter to bring my cheque
I was desperate to leave,
To have her back by my side.

I was back with her now,
We were driving
And she said "I've to go home, mom called."

My mind went blank.
"Should I drop you straight home?
"I think you should.."

I did.
"I wish you had finished your meeting earlier,
We could have spent more time together"
I said.
"I didn't spend any more time than was needed."
She said.

If we had a picture together,
It would kill me each time to look at it.
Since we had none,
Her picture was in my heart
And a little bit of my heart died with every beat
Trying to bring the picture to my eye.

She stepped out,
The light turned green.

This blogging thing

OK. Finally I'm here too,
I wonder where this will take me.

I didn't when I loved you too,
And look where it brought me.