Thursday, December 31, 2015

Lead Kindly Light

It is not darkness
But the absence of light
Not pain
But absence of pleasure.

There are days that are dreary
Days that are sad
And I find myself looking up at the sky
And begging for the Sun
To just fucking shine.

The heart that throbbed within me once
Like cannon balls thudding around
Now lies silent and forlorn, even,
As a battle rages deep within.

What the heart feels
A poet can string to words
Through slow mellow rhymes
Silent in longing and love.
But the Shakespearean silence of my soul
I can never pen,
Into words you will fully understand.
There is no method my love,
To my madness
My madness is you.
It is not darkness that surrounds me
It’s the absence of your light,

This life’s only true delight

Friday, December 25, 2015

Long Train Journeys

Long train journeys make me sad. The gentle lyre that plays some sad Chinese melody in the background of our everyday lives, suddenly comes afore. The notes from their pathos drown me. As in a trance, I find myself staring at concrete sleepers and iron tracks, my eyes brimming with ancient tears.

I have often wondered why this happens. Maybe because long train journeys remind me of my childhood. Reminds me of a life full of beautiful loving people. Some have traveled to the edges of these railroads and faded out of sight, some have merged with these tracks and what remains of them are the sounds from these clanging wheels of an ageing memory and iron dust.

This rattling reminds me of a journey that all of us have to undertake. This long untiring unending relentless journey on iron wheels, hooting, halting, changing lanes, always running. I bid goodbyes to those who have arrived. As I hurtle towards my own destination, I take a quick look at those who i travel with. When my time comes, I hope I have earned a decent farewell. I hope I have some to wave me a warm goodbye.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Before I Knew You

Before I knew you, I did not know myself. Before I knew you, I thought I knew myself.

I did not know that a stray wind carrying in its fold a faint fragrance from yore, would make my heart miss a beat, stop time and freeze me in its eternal moment. I did not know that a laughter from a stranger would reverberate across an ocean of full of shackled memories, and huge tidal waves of your thoughts, could drown me into eternal grief. I did not know that I will catch myself so often, intensely staring at strangers in red, for red was your favourite colour.

Before I knew you, I thought I had conquered love and were immune to it.

Before I knew you, I was barely human.

Friday, December 18, 2015

Just Like When I Was A Kid

My mamma speaks of the time when I was a four year old. One day, I jumped on one side of an empty refrigerator stand, and the other side came and hit me on my face. The stand was made of iron and I hurt my eyebrow bad. I went about playing until the blood started clouding my vision and staining the floor. It was then that my aunt looked out of the window and screamed out of fear and surprise. It was her scream that scared me. I started crying as well, rubbing all that blood from my slit eyebrows all over my face.

It hurt bad. The doc gave me 6 stitches to get my brow back in shape. I still have them right there.

After the stitches, mamma says that I would play around all day and occasionally weep with the pain from the stitches. I will sing, laugh, run and fight, and then cry some as well. It was funny, watching me hop around with a huge bandage on one eye, it was also heart rending for her. I was all of four years old when that happened.

Mamma, nothing much has changed. The pain now, is not from the stitches anymore. They tell me that these wounds can't be stitched. I meet my days everyday with a  smile. I laugh, I play, I dance. And when I am reminded of her, I cry some too.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Two shades too blue


I watch the empty window-side table closely. For this used to be your favourite place. Here you would sip your half cup tea and pout and look out of the window longingly. You will point to people going about their everyday lives,  and like a little princess, you will weave stories, and chuckle and laugh

Your presence had a way of making my little house
Feel full.
It was as if you filled my walls with shades
That made then come to life.
As if suddenly,
Being a dining table was an important achievement,
And that wall hanging
Would acquire a personality, and indulgently
Glare at me; as if this were its house, not mine.

I now look at the empty space besides my window.
Baby, it was your favourite spot.
And watching you
My favourite moment.

First published in Muse India, Jan-Feb 2017