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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?)
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!
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.
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.
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.)
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?
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...)
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?
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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