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

Wistful














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.

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

Saturday, 27 September 2008

Untitled

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

The eyebrows raised itself,
And the lines of fate
Crowded
Into a frown
Pronounced.
Irked,
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?

Exasperated,
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

Complacency

Rancidity
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?

Tonight-
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?

Tonight-
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

Ache

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

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.

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

And I Pray
For lease of life-
Yours,
And hence, mine-
Entangled,
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,
Mesmerizing,
Confounded, I watched-
The smoked rings
Faded into the depths,
Of the fair supple skin-
Blemishless,
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

Vitreous

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.

Promise

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

Meandering

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-
Exploding,
Into a million sprinkles.

Overwhelmed,
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.
 

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