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Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017 


Recent posts

All Consuming Love

Dear You,

Looks like I have found you.

In the depths of my love, I notice your smile.

Yes, the one you flash after that brief moment of joy.

I feel your fingers entwined in mine. All the time.

Your eyes speak to mine, asking me questions.

Remember the first time I told you of my affection and my afflictions ?

You must know this. You consume my thoughts, time and grief.

Glad to have met you.

Yours,

Me.

Twenty Nine

Twenty nine pins.

One for each year of existence.

He took twenty nine different pins and thrust them into her hands.

She writhed looking at them.

One of them forced into her skin. A drop of blood appeared on her milky white fingers.

He flinched at the sight of blood.

He wanted her, she did not care.

Twenty nine pins meant nothing to her.

It was about her wishes and dreams and desires.

He saw pins and she nursed her own pain.

Years. They mean nothing. How you change matters.

Into what you change matters.

Twenty nine can well be ninety two pins, but she would not change her mind.

Twenty nine pins.


The Mother knows

When does a mother feel proud about her child ?  Is it when the baby walks for the first time ?  Or is it when the child calls the mother for the very first time ?  No, it must be when the child runs wildly with glee. 
Ever watched a mother caress a baby ? No blemish or mask. A pure emotion that awaits a definition. The very next moment,  The baby leaps out of the mother's reach. Who can contain the  breeze of  childhood and innocence ? The mother watches. 
At every birthday, a cake is baked. The guests change, children too. When does a mother feel proud about her child ? Is it when  The child attains adulthood ? Or when the first earning is put in  The mother's hands ? I do not know, but the mother knows. 
It is every time the child smiles, every time the child speaks, Every step the child takes, every hurdle the child crosses.  Every time the child runs to her for a missing button, some  Advice or even a hug. The mother always knows.

The Soliloquy of a Sonador

Ever since you flew away,
I have been conjuring up your image.
In the midst of my thoughts,
you light up a smoke and offer it to me.
Everything ceases to be right, I palpitate.
I am supposed to be lonely as the cloud.
You make me forget the sound of fleeting music. 
In the background, a portly man laughs.
In a puff of drowsy numbness,
I catch a glimpse of your sparkling eyes. 

What are you, I wonder. How could you,
Love was it, then ? Like a waterfall in a desert ?
After that brief encounter, you vanished.
I looked at you as a figment of imagination. 
My body wore the tell-tale signs of time.
I believe I saw the best of dark and bright,
Or was it the crazy trick of reflection ?
One fine evening,you landed at my doorstep.
I was old and so were you. Beauty had
Served its purpose. My nest was empty. 
I had flowers at my feet,you were real. 

Sometimes I ponder about you. I should 
Have known. You were capable of hurting me. 
You were the nightmare I was waiting for.
Nubile I was,you played me well. Not that 
I wa…

Name-Place-Animal-Thing

memories.
things that i did not do.
things i never will.
people i have hated.
people i shall always love.
names that i have forgotten.
names that are etched in my being.
animals that i have eaten.
animals that have consumed me.
memories.


Explanations that are not needed.
explanations that I never give.



Smiling at Sunset

Dear You,

Wasn't it the other day we met ?

There was no intention apart from business.

You came, I complied and it all went fine.

Nobody had noticed anything odd.

I still wonder why you came back.

Was it me or something I had told ?

I hadn't revealed any of my secrets.

You had none. We met at sunsets.

You told me something new each day.

I merely listened, thinking that this would end too soon.

You didn't end anything. I was amused.

You started quite a few things. I still thought nothing.

I believed I had it all, learnt it all.

But then you being you, it was all too novel.

You had me.

Yours,

Me.