Saturday, 20 December 2008

Haloed Ache

I heard a piece of news tonight,
And I found myself utter a cry
Of muted despair.
The wingless words throttled
Choked breathless,
I encased them
Within the folds of my soul.

Gurgling inside my heart,
I found the ache
Squeeze its way through.
And as I looked on,
I found the secret enveloped
Deep within my skin-
And tattooed into my flesh,
The news burnt.

A smoky halo, I adore.
For I bury deep in,
A secret ache-

Saturday, 6 December 2008


Clutching the endless fickle dreams
Close to my bosom,
I sit.
As though waiting for someone dear
My eyes stray
Into nothingness.

I hold the rain in every drop
Of my soul.
And as the fresh aroma of dawn
Shakes me awake, Frantic,
I search for traces
Of waterlogged dreams.

In the warmth of the sun,
I bask,
On summer noons.
In the vicinity, I find
The melt of my dreams,
Gleam as waxy mirages,

Once again, wide awake
I listen,
To the melody of seamless waters.
As the salty moist breeze
Embrace me,
My senses dissolve into a silent murmur
And I hear the call,
Of the forlorn heart.

The symphony of a sweet homecoming
Cradles a new splurge,
Of Life.

And I weave a handful of fickle dreams,
Once again.

Friday, 28 November 2008


I walked over a heap of bodies
Tucked away.
I felt the blood clots dissolve
As it rained, again.
I turned back,
To count the corpses many-
The fresh fragrance of gun powder
Made me lose count,
And I started all over again.

My eyes strayed to a piece of metal,
Trapped beneath the pile,
A loaded magazine, I cried!
Sneaked it out, and pressed it safe
Into my jacket new.
A prized piece, for my collection.

I walked over a heap of bodies,
Newly piled up.
I swooped in before others,
And found a finger hanging loose,
As though waiting to be taken away.
I acceded,
And walked away
With a piece of someone.

I heard the journalists cry over exclusive rights,
And I heard the cries of anguish too,
But distinguish one from the other,
I could not.
My eyes searched out disaster
And I never had to be disappointed.

As night began to dawn,
I walked back home,
With my prized new possessions-

Waterlogged bombs.
Loaded magazine.
Guns and rifles, empty.
Pieces of flesh, once alive.
Ear shattering cries.
Memories of someone's fear.
Orphaned humanity.
Snippets of bravery.

And as I went to bed,
I searched for my soul,
And found it missing.

I rummaged through my souvenirs anew,
But, in vain.
And, I ran out into the open
Searching for my soul,

Saturday, 22 November 2008

Cadaver Sale

The vineyard for the elder son.
(Echoed a voice loud and clear,
In heated outburst.)

I remember the times
When we walked hand in hand
Across the stretch of land,
Tending to the grape vines new
Together we plucked the finest fruit,
And today, I find you walk alone
Stealthily gathering the grapes.

The factory for the second born.
(Countered the new voice,
In sheer anger.)

The endless hours of toil and sweat
To start from the scratch. Building
A realm of riches for the dear ones,
A lifetime wasted away.
Today, I find the doorman block my way,
And I find the smile in your eyes,
dancing in cruel naked joy.

The home of eons for the youngest.
(The softest voice of the lot, I did hear,
And then the clutter of banging wood.)

The little nest I loving made,
Had always sprinkled a magic of love
Thriving on which you gained wings.
Today as I walk past the empty house,
I find no traces of the home I built.
The hallways where you learned to walk
Leaves no footprint in your soul.

As I hear the arguments
From across the glass walls
Segregating the special hospital unit,
I close my eyes,
Hoping it'd never open again.

Which father would want to know,
Which son of his argued the best,
To sell his father's corpse,
As a cadaver, nameless?

The arguments just never would cease,
Or would it?

Wednesday, 19 November 2008

Christmas Never Comes Early.

I found Christmas just around the corner,
Roaming the streets so lonely
In the borrowed rags of a night prowler.

I saw the snow, starched white
Like the flowing aged beard
Of the yards of cotton, endless.

I found the flute of mahogany wood
Dust laden, and sabotaged
Like the vandalized ancient heritage.

And I saw mask of stoic calm on the vacant faces
Of people walking down the bustling streets.
Hiding the turbulence of life, the cast iron mask.

A league above the rest, the pride
Of liquidity at the finest best,
I turned to see reflections of myself
Across the glass display walls
Of the city's pride mall.

In the black of my eyes, I found the eclipse
Of blind lithesome sand.
All over the grandiose Armani attire,
I found holes many.
Exquisite Cleopatra make over all smudged,
I found a banshee in the hiding.
I held my battered Louis Vuitton bag tight,
So tight that my finger nails chipped off
And painlessly bled my vanity.

Repulsed at my reflection stark,
I looked down at me.
No gaping holes, and no smudge
Of poverty, I found.
My manicured nails red, shed no tears
Of fallen pride.
Perfect-o, I spoke aloud, for self redemption.
And yet, I broke away into a run.

And the Christmas walked away, so far away,
Dressed in the ragged robe of grime,

There's no greater fear than the uncertainty
Of today,
And the unforeseen destiny of tomorrow.
And in a moment of naked fear, I found no night prowler
Walking down the street, disguised.

It was just the winter mirage...
(Christmas never comes early, I quipped.)

... Or is it just a slice of vanity, Crumbled?
(Echoed from across the realm of the unsaid.)

Wednesday, 12 November 2008

Westward Winds

There is not a grain of sand
That bears no imprint
Of yesterdays.
For, every dune has dissolved
In the embrace of the gale,
To reshape, and reform
To the fresh knoll,
Of golden hue.

But, why is that you and me
Bear no trace of yesterdays?
And where has the trail of past
Hidden itself?
Repulsing the path that got you and me here,
We build hummocks of today,
Not foreseeing,
That gale, rising from ashes,

Monday, 10 November 2008


I could drink from your soul
And still be thirsty.
I wish to feed to my fill,
From every fluid ounce
Of your being.
And long to thrive, on your ashes,
Dipped in the melt of the mighty bones
Smothered with earthen dust,
And still wet,
From the night rains.

In the lustful desire for the perilous,
I aim at revival.
In the sweet pleasure of revenge
I regain faith. In the dearth of senility
I heckle, endlessly.

And amidst the derisive snigger
I forget to notice,
The leech is at his job-
And amidst all mirth
I bleed,

Sunday, 9 November 2008


The satin sheath of love
Seems to be in shreds,
(Ripped apart,
Or is it a designer creation?)

The polka dotted pattern
Shines bright
On the milky white background
Where imprints of life
Has left its mark-

The randomness of each droplet
Creates a whirlpool
Of curiosity.

There is no thin line
That segregates.
And there is no boundary
To life.
(The seam hasn't split, yet,
I know. Still, the needle is ready
To sew together the shreds.)

And then,
Immersed in crystalline thoughts
I shed my polka dotted life,
To colour yours-

Wednesday, 5 November 2008


Her eyes held a gleaming pearl.
Safe, in the curls of her long lashes,
It remained.
He watched, the coal black embers
Moisten, with the shining fluid pain
He offered,
In token of her affection.
And he feared the weight, forcing
To dribble, across her cheeks
Tracing down a trail,
Of his own doing.

He came down on his knees,
Held her chin up
And smoothed her tendrils
Of gold,
Away from her diamond face.
Gently, ever so gently,
He cupped his palm, so close,
To her eyes-
And lo! Dripped in,
The pearl.

And as she looked up, she found a pearl,
In his eyes too.

Ah! Reflections!

Tuesday, 4 November 2008

Ah! Love...

The touch of love often comes
As a loving caress.
The cottony flumes ever so delicate,
Fondling the soul,
In silent whispers of desire
To redeem the self,
In the ribs
Of the gleaming two way mirror.

But, at times grave,
There comes a love, tempestuous
In its onset.
Thriving on an obsession stark,
It nurtures the passion heated,
Smothering the soul
To beat the dainty wings,
In exasperation.

Sometimes, the love
Weaves a golden castle
On the lands of Utopian bliss,
Waited upon by the charming spring
Shines the love, in jiving zeal.
And the soul casts itself,
Onto the counterpart
In sheer celebration- ah! amour.

And at some other times,
Love turns a shade of deep scarlet
Running through the veins
The love, unrequited, screams out
In the tone of a banshee wild.
As the toxin seeps in further,
And pukes out into the other,
Asphyxiated, the love dies.

Adorning the shades of you and me,
Love heels a masquerade-
Creating miracles of life, at times
At times, it dances a carnage
Of sheer destruction.

Yet, the eternal fire fumes-
For, each soul yearns
For fruition-
A culmination of odds.

Ah! Love...

Sunday, 2 November 2008


The lapse
Felt trivial, then.
The gaping hole has opened up,
Wide and stark-
Sucking in, a vortex.
The razor-like
Have started to hurt
And the pus,
oozes out.

A worm crawls,
Dancing patterns within,
Tickling me to oblivion-
And I know,
Soon, it would begin to hurt
And gnaw in deeper
Under the skin-
I'd ache
And hurt,
Bleed, and


Saturday, 25 October 2008


Sometimes I give more than I ought to.
And at times like this,
I feel that pang
Of bitter disappointment.

And I wish I'd never have given out
So much, a wholesome part of myself.
No, you don't toss me out,
Or make me feel ill at ease.
You inspire, and you effuse in me, a love
Yet, in the subtlest of moves,
I realize, at some point-
Your world revolves,
Not around me.
And no matter the care, and the love
I'd always remain a surrogate.

And when your eyes colour fresh dreams
I always remain in the backdrop
Washed over by the shower,
Adorning a shade of dilute gray.
The ache never does dissolve,
Even as the rains lather at me
And I get drenched
In the whirlwind of impotent desires.

And once,
When that dies down,
Hiding in the realm of sheer love,
I give out
Every inch of me.
I just can't give enough of me
For, there's only one you,
And I can find no subrogate.

Thursday, 23 October 2008


Once again,
I have reached that point
Where everything is sore
And everything hurts.
The skimmed thoughts
Curdle, in the saltiness
Of today.
And the seamless eternity
Of world's deadpan gaze
Leaves me vexed.
And in the abyss
That bleeds
Of virginal tears,
I long to find anchor.

I wish you'd touch
That spot, sore
And soothe away the ache.
But, I remain alone,
Like a barren womb,
Spilled off its seed,
In a tide of relentless fury.

Tuesday, 21 October 2008

Give n Take

The peak of lust
Smoked a hue of ashen dust.
As he drank in,
From her soul,
He gave not, but merely took.
And in the aftermath,
She took away
The weak shreds that bound him.
And he clamored

And the dust rose,
In the silken silence,
Once again.

Sunday, 19 October 2008

Autumn Hue

How could the cryptic script of eons ago
Moist my eyes,
And dampen my soul,

Does the veiled hurt
Surface anew,
On days like today,
When I expect not in the least
Those aged woes?

It does, bitterly so.

The yellowed maples drape the roads
Hugging onto the winding ways
Offering a carpet.
My bleeding soul dabbles a trickle
Of crimson,
And autumn adorns a blush.

And as the chilly winds blow
The maple leaves fly all over
In an amoured frenzy.
The hurt wouldn't but appease.

With a handful of memories
That I so very much wish to push off
Into the brook,
I walk, humming an autumn melancholy.
But the brook evades me,
As it does,
Every time.
(For, I never could cross that milestone.
Knowingly, I could never wipe off the memories
That built me.)

And as always, I take that path
Away from the brook, knowing well,
I could never part with those memories.
Maimed be it, with tears-
Yet, it remains
And forever would.

The chilly winds blew on
And more maple leaves smothered me
With a wet autumn kiss.

Full Circle

There's so much I would want to hide,
And so little I would want to share.
Yet, in the dearth of these words,
I wish you would read the unspoken,
And trace it back to me,
And we'd make a full circle.

And even then,
As the morning sun peeks in,
The secrets of the night would be
Long forgotten.
And like the shade of the old banyan,
You'd preserve my fallen secrets

Faith always does a full circle.

Saturday, 18 October 2008

Soulful Rustles

If you ask me to pen a few words for you, my love,
I'd just say let it be.
I know not any words of gloss
That shine in its gleam of grandiose imagery.

I do not love you as if you were a tropical Orchid
That blooms at night,
Or a rustic earthen priceless antique of the Aztecs.
I do not love you as if you were a dainty Daisy
That adorns the garden of Eden,
Or the crystal clear blue waters of Minnesota.
No, I don't love you for miracles.

I love you as a cherished dream
Dark and hidden,
In the shadow of my own reflection.
So near,
That our eyes search out each other
In candid naivety.
So close,
That you remain juxtaposed
In the hidden folds of my soul.

I love you as if you were a mystic aura
That forever shields me.
I love you, not knowing how,
Or why-
Without any layers of guise, that could one day
Be peeled off from me.
Without any pride or intricacies.
I love you as if you were me.
As though your hands felt like mine,
And your smile lit up, not your face, but mine.
And as you close your eyes,
It's always me, slipping
Into your sleep.

I love you in sheer love,
Nude, with no jewels adorned
And no veils to be unveiled.

Thursday, 16 October 2008


The thunder never rumbles
Nor does it croon.
All it does is silently purr-
Pity, it knows no decibel.

The waves never do crash
Nor does she reign a fury.
She merely cradles her womb-
Pity, she hemorrhages.

The cartridge never loads itself,
All it does is fill a hollow.
And as it defaecates, in relief-
Pity, blood spills.

The words that I pour out
In this constricted space,
Hurt it you can't, nor can you kill-
Pity, it is the stillborn child of my thoughts.


I plastered some clay
Onto the shiny white wall
Where mirrors fought, to adorn.

The fingers traced five streaks

I found the line that led from me to you,
And retraced that path, you never found,
Despite all the landmarks, I duly shared.
And I fingered the dried up line
That grew parched, in the dearth of our love.
I winced at the broken line,
Where I found no print other than mine,
And finally, I traced my way back-
In hope, of renaissance of sorts.

And I reached, not the first streak-
But a dead end,
Where the smudge of mud,
Broke off-

And I watched it


I couldn't have given up, could I?
No, I couldn't-
We were at stake,
Don't you see?

And so I grabbed a fistful of clay,
Once again.

Walking on

The feeling, of hanging in-

Voices from across
The veiled infinity
And seep,
Through me.

The aura of a dim light
I can make out-
It could be the LCD smile
Shed by the contraptions, all around
It could be the candled prayer
Of my world.

The pain subsides, slow
And the veins deepen to wild crimson.
The bourne, has finally flamed.
Or is it, the bleeding vomit
Of terminal innocence?

The lips feel parched
And the thirst lynches at the throat.
The breath halts, and rises again-
A part never gives up,
And a part no longer does breathe.

And all this thrashing about
Rouses a havoc,
And several beeps echo, allover.
The solitude is at dearth,
Even here-
I surmise.

And then, the heart decides to close down,
It's had its fill, all way through.
And so, a moment to say the final note
To the trampede, so called life-


Transient, that feeling
It slithered down from me-
Unto what remained of me,
As I walked on,
Across the silken veil.

Monday, 13 October 2008

Lettering the Love

The last letter you sent me
Spread the aroma of sandal, fresh.
But the words were cluttered,
And I sat, taking in the essence
Of you, all over again.

My eyes sifted
Through the incoherent lettering
Pausing at every note,
Smiling after every alphabet, I grasped.
And swearing at the many
That appeared to me as unknown,
Undiscovered, yet.

Obsessed with your ink,
I drank in the unread,
And maybe, even the unsaid.

I found the many uncrossed T's
So typically yours,
And the tiny hearts that you doodle,
All over your I's.
And I remembered the way you curve your Q's
Saying it resembles my lips
When I pout.

Sigh! Who'd have ever known
One day as such, would come calling
When I'd spent hours
Tracing and retracing your words, your feel-
Discovering the mundane nuances
Of yours-
To find myself
Fall in love, with you
All over again.

Obsessed, maybe even a bit nutty.
Yet, the feel of loving even your T's and I's
Makes me realize-
There's no inch of you and yours
That hasn't left a mark on me.
Marked for life, I am
In your love.

Ah! Doodled a heart on the I, I did-
And it feels just so right!

Sunday, 12 October 2008

Bridge across verses

The quill touched the parchment
With a thirst un-quenched
Scribbling words incoherent,
To form a beaded string
Of life's worth, of -

An occasional dip into the deepest of inks
And a quick jiggle that forced away
Blotches of that excess ink,
The one drop-
Which could have made a difference.

Curt tracings of the ink,
Racing along, faster than the thoughts
That bloom, and wilt.
The parchment damp, weighed down,
It lay heavy-
With not a dollop of a word more.

The veinlets once deepened,
In the brightest of hues
It receded into the depth,
Once again.
And as the parchment seemed all done
I found the split verses,
With no deft nexus-
Puissant .

And, I rummaged through my duffel bag
Of loquacious thoughts,
For that link-
The bridge across verses.

I never found it, though.
And so, I still do write-
Maybe someday,
I'd bridge my verses together.

Maybe, someday...

Sunday, 5 October 2008


When the lilies would bloom, once again
And the breeze would carry a whiff
Of her sweetness unto me,
I'd feel whole again,
Or so, I dearly hope.
But the lilies you tossed at me
They stink,
Or is it just me?

As the faint taste of the petals soft
Would touch my lips,
I'd savour the longing
For your kiss, once again,
I trust.
But I wonder, would you?
Foul breath,
I wouldn't have, nay?
Or, have I, always?

The silken bonds have unfastened itself,
And there hangs the orb
Of uncertainty, don't you see?
And I gather up the aged silk warp,
Holding it close to my bosom.
The moth balls pungent has left its trace,
And it leads the way up,
Into the cluttered mind.
Repellent, it ain't, nay?

The iron chains do hurt me at times.
Ask them to loosen my knots, could you?
Or would you rather let it be?
At times my legs bleed, the metal cutting in
And sometimes the flies smother all over,
And I watch them at work-
My hands can never reach them,
Handcuffed, you remember, nay?

The next time, get me daffodils plain
Bright yellow ones.
And bother to hand it over to me,
And don't toss it from across the bars,
Would you?
You would, nay?
Or wouldn't you?
You would, nay?

Saturday, 4 October 2008


Oft trodden paths of eons ago
Burn my sole today.

The tiny stars always did twinkle
unto me, as you rightly said.
The crimson sunset does add to my blush,
Once again,
As you told me it would.

But time hasn't yet healed that wound raw.
Despite the clever try at disguise,
It pries itself open,
Time and time again.
You never did expect so, did you?

I still remember how your eyes forged a lie
That no matter what, time would heal my wound
And I'd learn to love again,
And live again.
Yes, the wound is no longer visible,
layers of epidermis has disguised it deep-
Yet, you can trace a faint outline, of a scar
That opens up, over and over again.

I did learn to love. Yes, I did-
Yet, the bitterness of losing you, and that ache
It hold me back, from truly letting go,
And giving myself out.
And I do live, beautifully so.
Even today, I can't hold back my resentfulness
You can feel it, nay?

I know it never was your choice,
And nothing could alter the will-
And I know, it hurt you to see me ache,
And the bitterness never showed
I wonder how you did manage
To know-
Time was running out, and no matter what,
There was nothing we could do about it.

Memories of yesterdays,
Bloom and wilt in me-
Yet, the fragrance never dies,
Nor would the blissful feeling
Of living, and loving-
You and me.

Friday, 3 October 2008

The roofing that leaked...! (1)

We sat huddled,
Trying to ease off the cold,
Avoiding the dribbling water droplets-
The remnants of a waterlogged fire
Still smoked its way
Into our senses,

The agony of a tiff
Fumed in silent reverence,
In our eyes.
And the unsolicited visitor-
The raging storm,
Uprooted the essence
Of anger, in a jiffy.

I felt your leg hook under my knees,
And I felt your arms
Tuck me under, safe.
I could savour your heartbeat
And count your stubble,
And my heart leapt across,
Did you feel it too?

I looked up at you,
Re-doing the furious words
We hurled at each other,
And the misery we self-inflicted thus.
Amidst the growing resentfulness
I tried to retrace the lovely colors
Of the palette- us.

I felt your heart skip a beat-
Wonder if you heard my thoughts?
A crimson hint dawned at my cheeks,
For being so explicitly outspoken
With my emotions-
And once again, I held my chin down,
Feeling your grip tighten.

The chattering cold seems to have left us,
And I felt the droplets that leaked in
From across our roofing, find a halt.
Yet, You never did move.
Nor did I.
Our gaze merged, and moved-
To find that leak at the roofing,
And we smiled,
At the last droplet that dribbled,
Into us.

The roofing that leaked...! (2)

The aged roofing began to leak.
Of the luscious rain
The heat of the moment forgotten,
We watched,
The dripping raindrops
Touch our skin.

The tiff half undone,
We scurried to that corner
Where the polythene sheet still hung
Saving our skins.
Huddled close,
The bitterness still pronounced,
We sat-
I could feel your breath
On my neck
Burning a trail,

Deep down, I longed for your arms
To hold me close. The water rose,
Drenching my ankles.
The fuming words hurled at each other,
Moments ago,
Lynched at my soul.
I peeked a glimpse at you,
From across the corner of my eyes.
I found your eyes intent,
In concentration deep knit,
Focused at a point-
That so very much seemed like my feet.

Cramped up in the dingy corner,
My limbs ached, uncomfortable.
I tried to re-shift my posture,
Without even grazing you,
But, failing miserably.
The silence of the moment grew as an ache
And slip into a dainty daydream,
I did.

As the rain gave up her fury,
I found the weight shift-
And as I looked down,
I found your favorite shirt,
Cloaked at my feet.
And you walked over,
Bare chested-
To seal the leak, forever.
But, I never did let you-
At that very moment,
I fell in love with the leaking roofing.
(And with you, all over again.)

Tuesday, 30 September 2008

Dancing Questions

Sometimes I feel I need no words
To hear you. And sometimes,
No words could satiate my senses.
The intangibility of the moment
Kneads a fallacy new-
And breathing in, I contemplate
My answers, for questions unheard.

Yes? Do you feel it too, oft I ask.
Again, into that vacuum
Where there exists a swell
Of the untraceable,
My fingers weave a swirl
Of moist undulations.
And, you don't see it, do you?

Amidst the unspoken
That I try to give words to,
And the untraceable,
That I try to give frame to-
I wonder if I missed to notice
You slipping away-
Did I? And more pertinent the question-
Did you, indeed?

Once again, I hang onto that word,
That never comes into the open.
And the stenciled patterns, invisible,
I fail to distinguish.
I wonder if I have failed? Or,
Is it that I have never been there,
To know?

Again, the questions dance,
Teasing and taunting-
And I follow, breathless
In awe.

Monday, 29 September 2008


O' rainclouds, do you feel it too-
The aroma of a fresh bout
Of tears?

Wonder if the purple veins
Disclose to you
The darkened viscous bleed
That dribbles subcutaneous,
Molding into beads,
Of a stagnant pain?

And does it seem stark obvious
When the skin crawls,
And the breath closes out
For a midsummer stroll,
Leaving behind a sight
of exophthalmos?

And then a sudden surge of air
Gallops inward
Taking back the orb,
From its clandestine eclipse
Into a flaccid calm-
Do you see it too?

O' rainclouds, do you feel it too-
The aroma of a fresh bout
Of tears?

The bitterness of being placed
Where I always wanted to be,
It creeps into me today.
Confined to the dingy cabin,
Effervescent with the pungent odour
Of disinfectant, expensive-
I nibble my pen to a stump.

As I sit back,
Amidst the monotony of routine
I gaze at the rainclouds,
Reflecting myself in them.

And I wish, I could rain away-
Or rather
I could just glide away.

I rummage through the sheets
Of obscurity,
Hoping for the paycheck,
In time.

Saturday, 27 September 2008


The stream does gyrate green flames-
I announced,
The decibels
Loud and clear.

The eyebrows raised itself,
And the lines of fate
Into a frown
At the lack of trust
And faith
In my words,
I made a face
Of utmost grimace.

I wondered in disgust-
Why wouldn't you see the stream
In my hue?
The crystal clear water
That gushes in
And out,
Draped over moss hugging pebbles
And a carpet of green slippery mush,
That gleams in a lustrous brilliance
And cuddles into the water bed,
When tickled by the sun drops.
O' Why don't you but see
The flames of green,
In an enticing dance
As the rays of light touches it soft?

I heave a sigh-
And, I find the eyes dance
Once more,
Throwing a beam of radiance
At me.

Well who cares for the green flames,
After all?

We quip, in unison,
Washed over
By a tide of sheer Feeling.

Wednesday, 24 September 2008

Hour Glass

The hour glass you'd given me
When you left for sail-
I still hold it close, each night
Gazing at the fine golden sand,
Wondering if its off the Caribbean coast
Or is it the rich sands of Pattaya?
Making a mental note,
To ask you so, the very next time you call.
And then, I smile, knowing I'd forget
Just like every other time-
For, I am at a loss for words,
Each time, every time,
Just as the first time, ages ago.

Tonight, as I melt into the sands
Of yesterdays, I miss you.
And no matter the distance,
No matter the hollow-
The sands of today effuses
A fragrance of wet tears-
Yours, or is it mine?
Once again, a dead end,
I make a note, to ask you-
The very next time-
Sigh! I can't help but feel
Every grain of my sands await you.

Yet, I know,
When you call the next time-
All I'd do is listen
To the unspoken words,
From across the sands forever.

Monday, 22 September 2008


Effuses into every relationship
After a while of contented calm-
Or so, I've heard.
And I'd never believed so.
In the aloofness of matrimony,
Where we are together
Yet so very far away,
Where conversations limit
To calls at mealtimes,
And occasional discussions
About the family budget cuts,
Bills to be paid,
Kid's school and studies.
A rare night of passion strained,
When we slip into sleep,
With no endearment,
Nor any goodnight kiss.
Is it the dearth of love
In us, I've often wondered-
Yet, I know deep down,
We can't stop loving.
Its a gradual transient fading away
Of expressions of love,
Enfolding of endearments
Into the hidden realms,
Of life's casket-
And in the hazy furl of everyday,
We lose our moments
Of sweet nothings.
Rancidity, some term it so.
I call it, the comfortable complacency
Of being in love,very much so-
Knowing, we'd understand,
And we'd swim across,
Today, and forever.

Sunday, 21 September 2008

Just In Case

When you predicted a rainy day, at the peak of noon,
I argued, an animated discussion over the weather,
Absolute craziness, I retorted to your words.
Heated, I blew up. Enraged of your cold shoulder,
I made a face. And as I walked away-
It rained.

I stopped, and felt cheated.
My thoughts at loggerheads,
Whether to walk on, or turn back.
Drenched in the rains,
I turned back-
But gone you were.

And I walked in the rain,
Longing for your hands to hold on to.

The other time, when we bickered over dinner,
Your calm voice did nothing but irritate.
Who cares if the man at next table spoke French,
It seems so trivial today, doesn't it?
But then, we'd mooted. I'd left the dinner, irked-
And as I passed by the table near-
I did hear French.

Feeling your contemptuous laughter
Burn my back, I walked out.
I waited for the cab; all the while
Hoping you'd come and lift me off my feet-
Saying its just fine.
But you never came out.

Waiting, in the eerie silence of the night-
I yearned for the safety of your arms.

Today, as I watch you walk away, for the first time,
Your words echo in me-
The way you'd followed me home, in the lashing rains,
The time you'd hailed the cab for me, in the dead of night,
The times, when you'd always been there, hidden from my view
(Just in case, I needed you.)
And I'd never known.

I know I need to grab this moment,
And run to you-
But, I don't.
Thoughts maimed, I just stay put
Feeling the loss lynch at me,
Hurting with every passing second.

Through the moist fog, I feel a presence-
And I find you, hiding behind the Bougainvillea stretch.
(Just in case, ain't it Dear?)

Saturday, 20 September 2008

Could you?

Hear me out, clear,
This one time
Search me out, deep,
This last time.
But read my bleeding silence,
Couldn't you?

There are a billion stories
Waiting to be told.
Unheard, Unsaid
It gains rust
From within me.
But gloss it anew,
Couldn't you?

The strings are broken,
You tell me.
The shrill notes,
Pierce the being-
I do know.
But mend the strings,
Couldn't you?

In the vine red realm
Of dreams,
Sleeps a wish-
Caught in a cobweb
Of hurt.
But nudge it awake,
Couldn't you?

I wish I could blazon
All the tales untold.
Yet, in the waxen quietude
Of yesterdays,
I lost my words.
But read my silence,
Could you?

Thursday, 18 September 2008


The ache burns
Deep in me,
Plundering through
In such intensity,
A quick blow-
And the fear creeps in,

Hanging onto catch a word
Of consolation,
Of safety-
I tread myself
Through this night-
Of sheer torture.

Sunken eyes
And frayed nerves-
Carried away,
Engulfed in thoughts
Of wildest caliber-
I wait,
Hanging onto a fragment
Of Hope.

I count my blessings
And plead for more-
Sheer selfishness?
Bothered not, I am.
My world is at stake.

And I Pray
For lease of life-
And hence, mine-
Our Lives,
Ain't it?

Tuesday, 16 September 2008

Bubble a Dream!

Bubble a dream-
I urged him.
Relentlessly annoying
I tagged along his side.

Not a glance
Nor a word of acknowledgment
From his side.
Crestfallen I were,
Yet, I did not give up on him.

Bubble a dream,
And let it stream away-
Across the astral sky
Beyond the hilly peaks,
Touching the meadows green,
And hugging the woody trees
Drenched in the lashing rains,
Hiding amidst the clouds.

Bubble a dream,
So hard to gather in our arms,
Let it fly beyond our reach.
Let it touch and tickle soft,
Bringing smiles of sheer joy
To the umpteen little kids
Playing in the brook
With fishes, ever so gay.

Bubble a dream,
That floats all around.
Let yourself free-
Savour the touch,
Relish the feel
Oh, don't you see
A rainbow enclosed,
In the crystal bubble?

Annoyed, he turned-
Smiling so coy, I held the jar
He picked the loop and plunged it in-
Do you hear the music of dreams?
I asked him soft.
Incredible your wild streak!!
He quipped-
And blew away a bubble, vitreous.

It tossed and turned,
Swaying a dance, refreshing.
And he puffed a bubble more-
Yet again,
Over and over, again...

We watched his bubbled dreams
Soar high.
He smiled down at me and whispered;
I do hear the music now. Do you?
I laughed so hard-
It hurt, in ecstasy!

And now do you know...?

As the morning sun dribbles down,
I know-
I brighten up your day
Like the warmth of an embrace
Of yours.

As I cup your face towards mine,
I know-
I bloom at your nude baby pink lips
As the tender veiled smile
Of yours.

And now do you know-
Why I always make you smile?

As the wind chimes heel a dance,
I know-
I beat a note in sync with your heartbeat
Living in that divine rhythm
Of yours.

As I hold your gaze in me,
I know-
I reside as a petal soft feel
In a hidden tear
Of yours.

And now do you know-
Why I never let you cry?

Monday, 15 September 2008

Love's Light

The smudged kohl
Left a trace
Of emotions
A tumult all over,
Brimming up to that point
Of no return.
The light in the doe eyes,
Confounded, I watched-
The smoked rings
Faded into the depths,
Of the fair supple skin-
She smiled.

Exfoliated folds of spotless skin?
Or a well learned masquerade?
Or is it just another dab of make up?

Just that-
It did a fairly good job.
But you forget,
I see you in love's light-
And there's nothing
That I can miss, in that hue.

Saturday, 13 September 2008


Do you hear the rustle,
As that of silk on a sandy stretch?
Inevitable, the tone
I discern.
But how? I realize-
The question no longer holds strong,
For, all that matters seem lost-
Within the timbre soft,
And intangible pastel shades
Of tonight.

A question sometimes haunts,
Relentlessly it knells
Swooning in you-
A tinnitus,
I wonder-
Don't you share it too?
Yet, it dissolves, in a while-
And merges.
Acclimatization, it gains a name.
Does that satisfy?

The vitreous semblance
Of today,
Does it blemish the yesterdays?
It does, doesn't it?
You nod emphatically, nay?
But do you even know-
What that vitreous means?
And in the umbra of tonight,
I ask for a visor-
What for, do not ask me.
Vitreous, it shines-
Don't you but see?
You don't, nay?

Forget it all, then.
As always, the cryptic ambiguity
Gains a new name-
Impertinence, stark.


Atop the lighthouse I saw a light.
The unheard melody of the night
Whispered a new hymn into me
And I smiled my mooned smile.

The waves crashed and broke away
Into countless pearls-
Waiting at the seashore stretch
I could taste the salted sprinkles.

Once again, the moon cradled my hopes
And the oceanic expanse beckoned,
My supple feet shoved deep in the wet sand,
I stood, anchored fast.

The waves washed over me,
Taking away the chunk of my earth.
The conch lay in solitude, far away,
Yet, the symphony drenched my soul.

The rooster cried at the crack of dawn,
As I watched, the sun popped out,
From its pristine blue slumber palace-
And I turned back home.

A promise unbroken, to be back-
Traces of all that remained, it still lingered.
The sea wiped off my footprints,
Yet another time. And I was gone.

Wednesday, 10 September 2008

Sharing Smiles

The view from my window, I often talked of-
Today, I wish you'd see it too.
When I speak of the vineyard at stretch,
Can you relish the taste of grapes,
And savor the sweat of mine?
You nod, emphatically.
But I know you see them not
And I wish I could tell you so,
But I just smile.

And the dew drenched roses,
Blooming off the shrub, I so lovingly planted,
Can you smell the fragrance soft,
And feel the bleeding hands of mine?
You tell me how you love roses red.
But I know, you don't.
You never did.
But I just smile.

When I tell you of my dreams,
I wish you'd soar along, on my wings
And together we'd get drenched,
In the shimmery spangles,
Of timeless magic.
You promise me that you'd love to-
But your eyes speak otherwise.
And I wish I could tell you, I know.
But I just smile.

As I look out of the wooden window frame,
I wonder-
Would my smile last forever,
Or is it just a masquerade to hide my tears?
You nudge me awake from my reverie
And I turn to you.

I find your smile,
And I know you'd never share
The view from across my window.
But, I know-
I can share your smile-
And so, I smile.
( Like always.)

Tuesday, 9 September 2008


In the drunken darkness
Of the lissome night,
My thoughts gain wings
Of translucent silk.
And ever so gentle,
They traverse all over,
Sprinkling the stardust
Of my very essence.
Meandering across the many mundane,
My silken thoughts
Find you-
Each time, every time.
I wonder,
The sprinkles of golden mist
That drenches me then-
Is it the raining bliss,
When our thoughts merge
And our dreams intertwine?
Or is it the divine manna,
Dripping into us,
When we culminate
In each other?

Sunday, 7 September 2008

Bertie at the Seaside Bathing Belle Contest!!

Galloping Gargoyles!!
I never knew He still made them like that!!

Quipped Bertie, the Junior.
Khaki trousers,
A crisp white shirt
And a blazer dark!
Dashing hunk,
He stood,
Eying the damsels
At the Seaside Bathing Belle Contest.

Shapely, those carrot topped Jezebels
His eyes took in.
Skipping a beat, he stared-
(Er...its rude to stare,
Someone did remind him-
A kick at his ribs)-
Holy Molly! what are eyes for,
If not to drink in
These Lovely gentle buttercups?
(Scarlet Headed Delilahs
Of the City-
How disgustingly acrid their lips stick stains!
Urgh! My skin crawls, in loath.)

Time to announce the Winners, Mr.Bertie-

Nudged him awake, the organizer.
Mighty proud Bertie hopped onto the dais
The winners of the Seaside Bathing Belle Contest:
Miss Marlene Higgins of Brixon
'N Miss Marilyn Bunting of Penge.
Ladies, here's your prize-
Old Doctor Gordon's Bile Magnesia-
A gallon each-
In a Crystal Jug, Absolutely Free!!

Urghhh! It sounds so Yuck-

Screamed the ladies, in unison
Slamming the bulk all on his head.
Bertie Junior stood sleek-
Dripping of Bile Magnesia, head to toe.
Tastes Horrible these,
Now, I gather-

Noted Young Bertie, a tone so matter-of-fact.

No blame young ladies-
I understand your reaction-
These Old Doctor Gordon's Bile Magnesia
Can make even the sanest go rockers.
I care not a smidgen,
After all, one can hardly remain cross at
Any Mary, Madeline or Rosy,
Can he??
Well, Bertie never can-
For sure.

And, Bertie smiled ever so smug.

(Note: Wi due apologies to P.G Wodehouse- just used his characters n language here...)

Tuesday, 2 September 2008

Shooting Star

Make a wish tonight,
I promise you, I'll make it true-

Screamed out loud,
The Shooting Star.

I saw the star, that zoomed,
And fell
Right into me-
Into a million sprinkles.

I stood, under the starlit sky
Letting the breeze chill me numb.
And, eyes closely shut-
I encompassed the sprinkles
Of my dream
In the dead of night,
Where eternity seemed to sing me
A lullaby sweet.

And as I opened my eyes-
I felt the billion stars
Explode in me-
A brilliant dream.

And assured my senses true-
The shooting star would have twinkled,
Somewhere in its mystic path.
My dream tucked safe, it smiled at me,
A promise, a vow shared-
Dreams do come true, Dear.
Offering me an invisible thread
To hang on to,
The shooting star vanished,
Into thin air.

Yet, why am I drenched,
With sprinkling silver star dust?

Monday, 1 September 2008

Love Note

That nest we discovered lovingly, last summer
Seems so vacuous now.
And the little birds flew away, Dear.
I wonder if they'd ever remember Us?
So very fondly, we named them sweet,
And the turns we took to sneak a glimpse
Of the all-pink-featherless baby bird-
It seems like just yesterday,
Doesn't it?

The litchis ripe, I plucked last week
All fleshy and rich.
Remember, the one time, we raced
To the litchi tree?
Broke your neck, I'd feared then, for reason none-
Breathless, we had perched ourselves
On that westward branch.
Feeling the fresh breeze embrace us cold,
We sat, sharing the ripe litchi-
Didn't we, Love?

The newspaper guy is still petrified
Of your terrier dear.
Never lets go of a chance, he does,
To nip away some flesh,
And I still remember the first time.
How hard you had tried to hold him back,
And the newspaper guy had fled for life.
But, I leash him in the morns-
He whines for you, every time.
Sigh! Come home, won't You?

Last night as I sat, to pen you this note,
The power failed.
I lit the candle you sent me last month,
Incense burning, and I felt you.
The candlelit dinner, we often planned on,
But never went through.
This time, when you get Home,
We'd definitely have one-
The candle lit barely to light us
And we'd see right through each other,
Like every other time,
Wouldn't we?

Its getting late, my Love-
I need to wake up early in the morn.
Your petunias do need a trim-
Now, don't you frown, I know,
I'll get it done no later than 'morrow.
And I haven't forgotten to lock the doors,
So just be calm, and sleep tight.
Good night, my Love.
Just come Home soon, I miss you, Love.

Saturday, 30 August 2008


The lightning was about to strike.

Goose flesh, murmured the artist,
As he set his canvas ready-
To dip his brush in dream's ink
And to touch his lightning stroke-
Of wondrous art.

The lightning was about to strike.

Eclectic, he wiped clean the lens,
As he set the shutters open,
And zoomed his mind's eye
To capture that one streak-
Of sheer brilliance.

The lightning was about to strike.

Am done, his eyes twinkled,
A challenge, to the creator-
As he set his quill down,
A satiated sigh escaped his lips.
He looked up at the sky-
In loathsome contempt.

His eyes never strayed,
To glimpse the light,
Nor did his soul leap,
In unwavering excitement.
The poet, sat isolated.
He read out his mystic music,
To the silence of the night.

As thunder growled,
He raised his baritone voice-
Peals of his soulful symphony,
Ringing clear.
And as lightning struck, he called out loud-
His words bore the barcode of his soul-
In sheer invisible gold.
And, no divine trace could match his creation

The lightning had struck out, after all.

The Sepia Tones of Fear


The eyes blinked,
A state of frantic frenzied shock.
As the frame captured me,
I tried to take in a gulp of air.
As my eyes pried itself open -
The panic grew sharp,
Once again.


I turned round,
My eyes straying-
Urging itself to search out,
The source-
Of deep-rooted anxiety
That lay bared open
The photograph stained,
I held in my hands.
Observing the reflections
Of a maimed fearsome past,
I wondered-

Does the ghost of yesterdays
Love you, today?
Does the love of today
Wipe off the ghosts of yesterdays?)
I crushed the photograph,
Killing the sepia tones of fear.
Proud, I walked into today's still-
And I felt my heart skip a beat,
And a chill creep through me-

And, I lived it, once again-
The sepia tones of fear.
(Dormant, it remained in me,
Yet, never erased.
Never Ever.)


The clouds heeled a dance.

Wild and exotic,
The music psychedelic,
The beats loud,
And rhythm divine-
She danced her soul out.

A shade of dark,
Touched her cheeks.
A hint of turquoise
Turned color-
To a shade of emerald dusk
And it blotched a blush-
On her pearl white shine.

Teased and taunted,
By His loving gaze,
Did she blush-
I wonder?

The clouds heeled a dance, once again.

Drops of lovely love,
She smiled, ever so coy.

Friday, 29 August 2008


Thoughtless thoughts, so often
Cradled in my mind's eye-
I tried to give words to.

Borne by the zephyr,
Nurtured by the rains,
Coloured by the rainbow-
I held out my wingless words.

From youthful rendezvous of yesterdays,
To grayed memoirs of tomorrows,
I held the thoughtless thoughts
Wrapped in turquoise silken words.

And as it rained one more time,
I asked out loud-
Dissolved my thoughts
And wiped away my words-
Did you?

Friday, 22 August 2008

Pyre of Ashes

Let the light in,
And let the fire start.
Burn the soul dipped in dew,
At the sandalwood pyre.
Let the windows crash away
Certain blessings
Find home-
Crashing all the Windows.

Weary eyed, I sit back
And relief springs fresh
As my ears hear the clatter.
And the soul dances naked
In the burning pyre.

Can you smell-

Wednesday, 20 August 2008

Magnum Opus

Feeling the pin prick of scruples
The sharp thorns thrust
To fizz out-
Lifeless dreams.

Maimed dreams
They remain scattered
All over my courtyard.
And every time I step out-
I jump across the trinkets
Of my own desire-
Determination, at what expense,
I wonder?

And as the night sets in,
I cross the threshold
Towards the safety of home.
And my thoughts linger-
All over again,
On dreams lost.
Scruples that hinder me,
Why do I still prize special?

Magnum Opus-
Framed in beaten Bohemian gold,
I create a masterpiece-
Where in, I bury myself-

I felt his fingers burn my flesh...

I felt his fingers burn my flesh...

...and I remembered the first time-
The dainty reserve of a bride, I adorned
Stepping into a new role, a new hue
Cast all over me

The age lines that streak my forehead
Have embossed your name, don't you see?
The once soft, now calloused hands,
Have planted and watered you, to grow.
These lips have offered your parched soul- life,
And this heart has skipped beats, through years
For your heart to thud- the lubb and dubb,
Chiming in me, the peals

I felt his fingers burn my flesh...

...and I looked up, to meet your gaze
In the drunken darkness of the night.
Your eyes gleamed

As you ripped away the many-time-darned layers
Of our aged love- lynching at the lifeless body
That lay limp, beneath your weight,
I felt no more. Nothing of you could re-awaken me.
And once again, as you fell limp over me,
I heard the lubb and the dubb, no longer recognizable.
The new tune urged a drop of tear to trail down.
And it flushed out of me, your shade

I felt his fingers burn my flesh...

...once again.

Finding Love

The crowded railway station gleamed before my shining eyes,
As I trudged my way through-
Squeezing in.

The sweat broke, trailing newer paths over my supple skin,
As the summer noon poured her heat,
Drenching me.

The aroma of fresh brewed coffee streamed up my nostrils,
And I watched the froth filled glass,
Sipped hot.

I heard the corybantic chatter of the hawkers and peddlers galore.
And watched in awe- the little kids whining for toys,

My eyes strayed to the old couple, who sat on the farther most bench.
Sharing the newspaper sheets,
Ever so silent, they sat.

The young horde that screamed and laughed out aloud,
I smiled inwardly, for I could find myself,
In them.

I saw a family of five, the father hauling the luggage heavy
And the kids, all young, tagging along with their mother.
Anxious- they felt so dear.

Time sped by, I never did notice, as my heart leaped boundlessly.
And as I heard the train arrive, from across the distance-
I clutched my hands, tight.

My eyes sifted through the crowd that alighted, smiling faces many.
And then, as my eyes finally found you-
Time and space dissolved.

And all I could see- you, moving towards me, grinning your charming smile.
And as I stood inches away from you, I could see just us-
Non-existent, the world.

Wordlessly, I held your hand as we walked homeward, and I smiled spring.
There's nothing like being home, ain't it?
And for me, home is - You!

Sunday, 17 August 2008


The ink seemed too dark
To dissolve my fears.
Dilute the ink, I did.

A hazy swirl
Of color,
Smudges that ran into shreds,
Purl of interlacing strands.
An intricate diorama

I waited for the diluent
To evaporate
And the ink to thicken,
Capturing the Essence-
Of Life.

But, the Tears never did Dry.

Friday, 15 August 2008


When you walk away from me
This time,
The very last time-
I promise not to shed a drop of my love.
As you leave taking a chunk of me
With you,
I wonder would it suffice?
For I never can have enough of you;
And all you ask of me
Are memories fond
And plastic smiles of melancholy.

Autumn has stuck itself all over
Hasn't it?
The winding pathways are now draped
With the ambering maple leaves shed.
Mourning Autumn, seasonal is it?

As you drive away,
I sing out loud-
Goodbye, Love.
Random words stringed together,
An obituary note?

The maple leaves flew all over,
Whispering -
An obituary new.

Spring can't but wait, can it?

Ah! Freedom!

History repeats itself
Doesn't it, always?
Or does it indeed?
The age old charka remains rusted
In the cob web adorned room
Where the aura of a nebulous past hangs in.
Dust sprinkled patterns of today
All over.
My fingers trace the outline of yesterdays,
Through shut eyes and my open soul.
I force myself out on a walk.
Across the green pastures
I smell the trace of blood, shed
Once upon a time.
As I get into the bus, my legs tremble-
The humiliation of being chucked out
In the name of my skin brown-
A poke on my shoulder, and I reawaken
To today.
A ticket punched,
I stare away out of the window.
Getting off, I walk in-
The graveyard fragrance fills my senses
And I find the earth damp
With tears fresh.
My mind flew back to a time,
When the earth was fed
With tokens of her own flesh.
She seems just as melancholic,
My eyes are damp, I realize
And I walk back home, a quick pace.
The sky laden with clouds dark,
Threatened to rain.
I ran, ignoring the limbless
Crawling over for safety.
The potholes I crossed over,
Where the many trip and fall
Never caught my attention.
Atlast, I reached home
Sweaty and tired-
Water, I yelled for.
The ten year old errand boy came over
Offering me a glass.
Thirst quenched,
I tossed the glass to him
With no other word.
Independence, does he not deserve?
As the thoughts of today filled me up,
I lived the tyranny of yesterdays
In me,
And my plaqued mind shut itself close,
Slipping away into forced sleep.
Ah! My Freedom!
(Hard earned?)

Sunday, 10 August 2008

The dust rose, once again.

The ashen shadow you traced,
Into the folds of drunken darkness
The cloak fell upon you
One more time.

I edged my hand forth
To clasp you firm
And not let go.

The gale blew hard,
And I stumbled.
I caught the hem of your cloak,
But, slip away, it did.

I held open my fist,
To find the halo of night,

The dust rose, once again.

It blew all over
As night peaked its glory
Once again.

Friday, 8 August 2008


The oil swished and swirled-
Burning hot.
Spluttering a new tune,
It heeled a dance

The acrid smell new,
Spread across.
And I tasted myself in a puff-
Of noxious guilt.

Ah! It danced the way up my nostrils,
And the oil cascaded one last time,
And then silence fell-


The battered shoe I held in my hand
Leather aged, shredded threads flowing-
My needle moved in and out swift.
Darned, I held the shoe out-

The foot slid in and he walked away
Never noticing the trace of blood,
Oozing from my punctured fingers.

Nor did I let him know-
I had seen his calloused feet,
That never did fit in,

Thursday, 7 August 2008

Forever, Us.

The last time we sat
Hand in hand,
Slipping into each other
The silence of that moment
Spoke volumes
Delving deep into us-
Layers of waterlogged dreams
Peeled away.

Leaning onto your shoulder,
I sat-
Savoring your heartbeat
One more time.
As life splurged through you,
I felt alive,
All over again.

You hurled a pebble into the water-
The ripples shook me awake
From my reverie, pensive.
I looked up
And found not you, not me-
But just,

Together, we weave not dreams-
We build life,
From you and me,
To us, and ours.

And as I let go of your hand,
I know-
Its for us.
And I know, your hands will always reach for mine-
If not now,
Another day-
It is just a matter of time.

And I know-
We'll survive,
For each other's sake-
If not for ourselves.

Ain't this Love, my Dear??

Sunday, 3 August 2008


The distance grows
Waking up at different sides
Of the cozy bed,
Courtesy demands a helping more,
Of toast and tea.
Steaming hot, it lay forgotten.
Mask faced we walk
Amidst all the clutter.
The keys click at odd times,
And the night sets in
With a rhythm alien.

As the cold night grows
We tug at the woolen blanket,
Vehement, the pull.
As realization dawns
We turn onto our backs.
And the distance grows-

Saturday, 2 August 2008

The Conch

The conch dribbled life.
Her music, spreading mirth
Across oceanic depths,
Sweeping away the blues,
Of life's crashing waves.

I dived in deep,
To gather the shell-
Dripping wet, i walked over
To the sandy shore,
Where I sat,
A pensive of thoughts
Streaming in.

Placing the conch to my ears,
I rocked myself to sleep-
A blissful symphony
From across the horizons,
And I heard
A billion stories

And, added mine
For your ears to relish.
Maybe, sometime.

Thursday, 31 July 2008

Life's First Lesson

But, why?
You ask me,
Out of the blue-
And I sit back,
Framing an answer,

It could be this,
Or even that-

I quip,
Sighing defeat.

Your eyes open wide,
In sheer awe.
Yet, an all-knowing smile
Flashes by.
Or a mirage,
Was it?

The age old wisdom
Of understanding
One's shortcomings,
And even more-
In accepting them,
With unquestioning faith,
And a shrug-

(It never rusts!)

I pull my little one over,
Onto my lap-
And all the questions
We learnt
Our life's first lesson-

(It never dies!)

Friday, 25 July 2008

Why does it feel like yesterday?

Why does it feel like yesterday,
Even today,
When life has changed its pace
And I have changed direction?
Why does it feel so right,
When I come across you-
No retractable words of yesterdays,
No gullible memories shared-
Yet, I feel you-
In every nod, every sigh.
My heart skips a bit,
Even today.

Time has guided my every step,
The melancholy hymns, I let go.
Life called for me,
And I let go, of all-
And gave in myself,
To destiny's toss.

Barely, had I learnt to trace my steps,
Once again-
Right from the start,
When you came in,
Fresh as a breeze-
And knocked me off-
Just as ever.
Not a moment of silence,
No awkwardness-
Just emotions gushing forth,
That we strain to hide
And suppress-
I realize that loss,
All over again.

We bid farewell-
So long.
And I wonder,
Why does it feel like yesterday?

December Chills

The night never slept.
It sat, unblinking, in watch-
As the chilled winds blew
All over,
Hurling the warmth of love out-
A toss.

On the earthen floor damp,
With no traces of comfort inviting,
She sat-
Shivers ran through her body-

He held her in his arms,
Pouring in his body heat-
Blissful warmth,
Shared in the ultimate throes-
Of naked intimacy.

The fire never woke up-
The December chills never left them alone.
And as the night slept away,
They made love-
A frenzied coupling,
For life-
For sustenance.

As the morn spread her shine-
She bid him a silent goodbye,
And walked away-
To find her kin.

A moment near to death, salvaged,
And the next, she set out-
To find life.
And he slept on-

Not all who wander are lost

Not all who wander are lost-
Heard the note, once-
And sat back,

The pretense of wisdom,
And knowledge-
Strained, it falls short
When it matters most,
In all essentiality.
And thwarted-
In self worth,
It gains rust-

The ignorance urges-
To budge.
Despite the lack of clarity,
Of senses, the random path
Gathering no moss,
The pebble rolls,
Of a cliff-
Or a dead end.

Yet, the soul wanders-
Straying out,
Into the open-
A quest.

And I wonder, does the soul culminate
In lost tears-
Or does the wandering soul bleed joy,

Monday, 21 July 2008

Sunday Date :)

Doesn't matter, how you look-
Just hurry. We'll miss the show.

I yell-
Loud and clear.
(In vain)

My temper rises, boiling fumes-
And I wait, incessantly
(For what seems ages)
And then, she comes out,
How do I look? Should I change?

My eyes pop out,
The phobia of another wait, cumbersome.
And I scream Nooooo... you look fine
Pleased, she gives in.

Come along, come along,
I don't wanna miss the show
She mutters, in a tone
Unmistakably patronizing.
I smile through clenched teeth,
Exasperated a sigh,
I let out.

Hey listen, I'll just park the car
And be back, right away.
Do not move-
I say, do not move.
(unlike the last time,
Please do obey. sigh!)

Held her wrists tight,
And walked in-
The movie had begun.

Can I get to have another pack of popcorn?
She turns to me, pleading.
You are impossible
I mutter, on my way out.
Back with popcorn, I nudge her-
A snatch, and not even a word.
God! How do I even tolerate this female?
I wonder out loud.

I hear a sob, every now,
And then-
Turning to look at her-
I see the tears that flow down.
Hilarious, I felt the scene-
A tear-jerking you!

A drive back home-
And I control the urge to laugh.
How was the movie?
I ask, ever innocent.
Ah! Not too good, emotionally insensitive-
The portrayal

She quips.

Uh-oh, not again! I saw you heaving
And wailing-
And you tell me
You never felt a thing? Impossible.

Mind your age, young lady!!! Am your grandma-
She turns to me, authoritative.
And I tried hard to hold back my snort,
And managed to smile.

Impossible, You are , Dear Granny
I murmur,
As I kiss her goodnight.

And as an after-thought, I add-
I love you,
And our Sunday Dates.
Goodnight, Dear Granny!!
(Waiting for the next weekend.)

Sunday, 20 July 2008


The big bang's child,
Blossomed, the earth.
Adam and Eve,
Born from Thy womb.
Across time immemorial
They built a world,
Of their own-
Unison of science,
And beyond.

Tepid, the bonding grew-
As ages sped by, in sheer force.
Crawling dreams gained wings,
And the hands gained power,
To oppose its own neighbour.
Hefty, the gradation-
From Adam's Eve,
To today's Me.

When tonight sets,
There still would remain
A trace-
Of the forbidden.
Yet, the apple seems stuck
In him-
Thy miracle?
Or his punishment?

And then, I wonder-
Why ain't Thy creation,
Thy reflection,
But a mere illusion?

Saturday, 19 July 2008


The nightmare repeats-
O'er and o'er.

Sweaty palms,
And quivering lips-
I shake myself awake.
My hands reach for you-
In vain.

And the ache traces back
Through my veins,
Back to where it belongs-
A cascade of pain,
Gushing forth.

Sleep beaten eyes,
And disheveled hair
Ghostly white skin,
And the aura of agony-
I prod myself
To life.

As the morning sun smiles,
Life gains her pace-
I fall behind.
And as night befalls,
I sing myself to sleep-
Longing for you.

And the nightmare repeats-
O'er and o'er again.


The slush of quicksand-
It soaked me in,
A fierce rage.
Fluttery feet
That could float,
I longed for.
The slurry spread,
And pulled me in.
A vigorous thrust- in,
And all that remained heard-
A thud,
And a thump.

Panting, and puffing-
I tried to ease myself away,
In vain.
Looking down at my feet,
I found the sand
Engulfing me within.
It felt safe,
Yet frightening-
To watch myself
Sink deep.

Delving deeper and deeper,
I watched the sky turn red-
In crimson fear.
And the leaves murmured
In unison-
A teary farewell.
The breeze blew soft,
A caress tender.
And I closed my eyes-
To let go.

I watch myself,
And hear the tune,
I reach that point-

An illusion, of myself-

Thursday, 17 July 2008

On a Drive...

A long drive down the south-
The gentle breeze cooed a melody,
Calming my frayed nerves
And aching limbs,
A countryside symphony flowed in,
From across the distance.

The sun drops teased and taunted,
Disarming me.
Pulled over the car, out in the open,
I walked out, right there-
Sprawled on the lush green stretch-
Pampering my senses,
Blossoms of rosy memories- Savoured.

Drove on, revitalized, a lonely ride.
This time, taking all my time,
To stop, and live each budding freshness
Preserving the beautiful todays
As fond yesterdays.

The white fence and yellow Carnations
Adorned a pretty cottage, on my way.
A quick stop, and I looked out-
The brick walls and wooden window frames
They held a dream within-
A soulful hymn, I did hear.

I lived the smiles often sprinkled
All over,
And the drops of tears shared,
Across time-
And held the feeling of home
In me-
Sustenance of a wild emotion Deepened in me,
And drove on, I did.

Leaving a petal mark across the distance traveled-
Impressions of today etching into
Fine lines of yesterdays.

Ah! Fragrant, the todays!

Sunday, 13 July 2008

And, I rained my soul.

The raindrops splattered
Over my window panes

And I watched,

Soaking in the aroma,

Of the fresh damp soil
I sat-
Effervescent memories,
Bubbling over.

Sashayed into the open, i did-
Drenching myself.

Raindrops touched my wet skin
And I squirmed,
Anticipating the forbidden.

I held the hem of my skirt
Swaying in grace,
A pirouette,

My supple feet soaked in,
The damp earthen joys,
And the drizzle
Caressed my parched soul-

I heeled a dance.

I held my eyes shut,
Winding back to the memory-
Of belonging, of love, of you.

Soulful a mizzle,
It rained on.

And I stood, saturated-
Waterlogged dreams,

For you.

Gently, my eyes pried itself open.
And, I rained my soul.

Friday, 4 July 2008

My Intoxicated Dreams!

The aroma of fresh brewed coffee
Strikes my nostrils,
And races through my nerves-
My senses swirl, in exhilaration.
And I awaken-
A split second,
And I crawl back-
Into the dejected shell.
Waiting, in anticipation,
For a puff-
Of weed.
I slip away,
Into the realm of-
My Intoxicated Dreams!

Thursday, 3 July 2008


The voice cracks-
Across the oceans,
Beyond the seamless space
To reach this point-
Up to me.


The voice calls out-
Heart hammering, I sit upright,
Hanging on,
To each word-


Choked, a sigh escapes
My quivering lips.
And I hang on,
To catch that feel,
The sense-
Of sheer belonging.

Despite the transmission delay,
And the lack of clarity,
I wait,
Savouring the silence,
That heart's beat.

As the connection breaks-
I sit back,
Nurturing the lump in my throat,
To satiation.

And a smile blossoms,
In the ashen silence
Of feeling.

Monday, 30 June 2008

Ah! Firefly!

The night seemed unusually calm
And I tossed,
And turned-

Walked out, onto the terrace-
A night time stroll
Lazy, I eyed the sky-

Velvety black,
The stretch of infinity

Cross legged I sat,
Looking over at the horizon,
A picture, I drew-
At the dead of night.

A twinkle far across,
I did see-
Its glow seemed to grow
Of incandescence.

The spot, gained its girth-
A hollow encompassed.
It moved-
Further in,
My eternity.

The refulgence nascent,
Now gestating-
A flutter,
Random swishes
Of a winged descend.

Ah! firefly,
Nocturnal beauty,
It radiated at a distance-
I went back-
To dip away,
Into deep slumber.

Warmth unusual,
My body responded-
I bind my eyes shut,
Asleep like a log.

Mornin', the sun peeked in,
Forcing my eyes open-
Sitting up,
I smelled the air-
Burnt dreams,
Did I smell?

I walked over,
To pick the newspaper. Damp.
(Had it rained, finally?)

And my eyes struck the light out-
As it read
"Airplane crashes, kills hundreds"

Burnt flesh, not dreams-
I looked at my fingers slender-

Ah! Firefly-
I realize.
As the odour of flesh,
Burnt me,
All over.

Sunday, 29 June 2008

Tinsel Town

The tinsel town
Glittered her charm.
And lured
A trap.

Dainty dreams
A glow. Enigmatic.

Sprinkles of star dust
Twinkling nights
And misty morns,

Fabricated a lie,
They did.
Dressed in brightest blue-
A brocade adorned,
Precious white lies?

White? No.

Duffel bag of my dreams,
I carried along.
Fastened with my love,
The very true me.

Ripped open, my bag-
Over, and over.
Dark hands pounced,
And tore apart,
Scattering my dreams
All over.

Held the battered pieces,
Tried to darn them anew.

Shoved my dreams,
Once again,
Into the parched rag-

Yet, breathing.
Once again, I carry it on-

To the tinsel town,
Where dangling stars wink,
And floating dreams shine.

Where I'll start off,
With a lie, all mine-


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