Subrogate

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
Unparalleled.
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.

Untitled

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,
Wasting-
Like a barren womb,
Spilled off its seed,
In a tide of relentless fury.

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
Defenseless.

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

Autumn Hue

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

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
Enveloped.

Faith always does a full circle.

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.

Pity!

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.

Streaks

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

The fingers traced five streaks
Random.

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

F
a
L
L.

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

Transient

The feeling, of hanging in-
Here.

Voices from across
The veiled infinity
Pierce,
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
Or,
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-

Adieu.

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

Lettering the Love

The last letter you sent me
Spread the aroma of sandal, fresh.
But the words were cluttered,
Illegible-
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!

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 -
Words.

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...

Insanity

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?

Scarred

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.

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,
Stark.

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.
Droplets
Of the luscious rain
Splattered.
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,
Undistinguished.

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-
For,
At that very moment,
I fell in love with the leaking roofing.
(And with you, all over again.)