Sunday, July 25, 2010

found

and she got lost. Lived her life in poles, from one September to the other. Between the grey and black, her days were never quite white. and she got lost. Wandering and wondering, she thrived on her temperament. and she learnt. Never could sleep for long, nor could she stare into nothing. and she got lost, and she knew it. Slashed with adrenaline, and numb with pain, she ran under that wretched sun. That wretched sun, too, saw her in fascination. He shone more and more, just to make her skin glow. and she got lost. She was lucifer's shadow and there she goes in the darkest of dark nights. Living life in Poles. Now she slumbers. Now she slumbers,

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Give and take

I took a little bit of madness from you
you stole a bit of music from me

Friday, May 28, 2010

The teary eyed Smile.

And we cried.
And
we cried. And we laughed.
and we threw our heads back and laughed.
We smiled and filled our empty arms.
We sang.
We sang our hearts out. Only
To numb the pain. And we Sang. And
We smiled. And we cried.

And we left. With that teary eyed smile.

Still laughing.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

For to From.

Hide it away in the palm of your hands, tucked behind your back. Clenched so tight, that it stumbles away. Or on that bookshelf, slipped between the yellow pages where the dust settles, and stays. Maybe in that cookie jar, perched up in that corner, where shadows dusk the prying eyes. In the pockets of your old coat or behind that painting hung. Dig up a den, under that ageing tree, where you would once sit and dream. X marks the spot for you. Fancy the thought of setting it up in flames, and watch it vanish.

Concealed from affairs and masked from scents. Under the darkness, eclipsed from you. Let it know you completely, more than you do. And then just bury it, salted away.   




away from them
closer to you

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Lost.

We are all lost
in our bleeding confessions
shrouded and draped away.
Bluffing our triviality
behind those majestic walls.
Erected tall and mighty
with wondrous schemes
and delicate art work.

Concealed behind our mask
is a face we wish not to see.
Painted with vibrant colour.
The lips, eyes and cheeks.

Mirrors moulded from pretense
speak to kins cast from dirt,
and Humour those juggernaut walls
in which we trap the mind.

The words are refined
yet the talk is cheap
Our posture straightened
our mind crooked.

Its a masquerade, after all.
a feast of facade
and all are game.

We are all lost
in the labyrinth
engineered for us
keeping at bay
the verity that plagues us.

The sides of seduction

Her sides of seduction
A whirl of trance

A finger pricked
and a drop of blood
A glass of wine
with lips so tender

A single rose
A red dress
Black stilettos
and her Grey silhouette

The sides of seduction
with desire turned to ash
The pain of pleasure
and the eyes of flames

The thirst she commands
subtle, so subtle
inebriated by it all

The progression of lust
and the inhibition of sins
A drop of blood
a scar for eternity.

Now and then

Now and then
You walk in open fields
with the sun shining down on you
and the breeze carrying you away.

Now and then
you play with that lady bug
and let it walk all over your hands
only to fly away

Now and then
you lie in those sprawling fields
between the green grass
and red tulips
and the wild white flowers

Now and then
you break away and listen
to the chirping birds
rustling leaves
and your beating heart.
The harmonies in their being.

Just
Now and then
to connect all the missing dots

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Inappropriate tendencies

Her eyes narrowed in.
She adjusted her glasses.
Crossed her legs.
Placed her manicured fingers
with her racy red nail polish
on her lips and tapped them.

Her tapping fingers shaped a beat
which grew faster
as her mind concocted.

The beat stopped.
the brow rose
a smile emerged.

It was arranged.
She wanted revenge.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Over the Phone

Somewhere in the same Universe
lightening will strike twice
Birds will sit in the front row
and the ships will anchor mid sea

The Pot of gold will have an epiphany
as the light of the rainbow will breathe
brush strokes of life, where the stars align
momentarily.

Corners of circles will square the spreading fire in
the tinsel of the stars will be set in stones
and restrain will drop all arms, unconsciously.

Jumping off the rhapsody of this sunset
will be our leap of faith
into the drizzle of chaos

You and I will splash into that puddle
that drips from the thundering skies
in that alternate universe
where lightening strikes twice

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Picture Perfect

Draw with me
with colourful chaos.
don't bother about the details
we'll create our own story

the blush of spring,
the silence of this night,
sketch out anything we please
from dusk to the first morning light

a few daunting hues
or those settling blues
my deepest desire
or your frown with that ire

Draw that poem
and rhyme it with life
or shoes, or trees
whichever you like.

Draw with your mind
or with your toes.
Leave people wondering
where it goes

These pages strewn all over
will speak of our time
our illusions, our thoughts,
and our impressive crimes

because
everywhere i go i see
a world designed for you and me
So hop on along
and draw with me

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Saturday Shining

With every conversation you take a part of me,
With every smile you piece those parts together,
With every song sung you settle in the deepest corners,
And With every word written you dwell in me.
You create a me that only knows you.
And all I want is..
To sit forever in the shade of your sunshine
To swim forever in the melody of your voice
To walk hand in hand with you all the way
To live by awakening in your eyes every morning
To travel with the scent of the rose you put in your hair
To sip chai from the cup that drowns our sorrows
To dance forever in the rain that ignites our night
To laugh forever in the echos of your heart
All I want is to create a universe with my own constellation of stars where our hearts shine the brightest

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Everything around us

My love feeds off your love.
For my soul is intertwined with yours.
Like a vine, which grows
rising out of the wind
with its buds sprouting
and blooming into those delicate flowers
which you play around with
and place in your hair.

Your love grows out of mine
Like the air and water
nourishing my presence.
So that I may thrive
and let those flowers bloom.
And with every blush of colour
your smile reverberates
and stirs me higher.

As if these elements of life
are present merely to amuse
our whims.
We are weaved into their existence
as they are into ours.

How to forget memories.

She left her umbrella,
old books of forgotten love,
tragedies and comedies
Her fragile heart.
days of silence.
corners built for reading
and locking the world out.
corners of joy

She left that carpet on the floor.
where she would sit and play endlessly
she would make-believe
lie down
and dream
She left the memories of those dreams
behind.

She left her dirty converse
That old blue jacket,
Her favourite hairclip.
on the dressing table
that she didn't take.

She left those comics on the coffee table.
and the little notes
she wrote to herself.
Her puppy's collar
and the fish bowl.
She threw a white sheet
over that worn down sofa
where she would sit and watch
silly romantic comedies
till her eyes grew heavy.

The picture frames were turned
down, with those pictures
still nested in them.
The swing her father built
on that tree in her garden
was abandoned too.

She broke away from it all.
Save her emotions.
and as much as she tried.
her being trapt in those moments.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Building that melody.

The muse is chosen.
The thoughts are thought.
The sentiment cultivated.

The page is opened.
The pen is drawn.
The coffee is sipped.

The words are written.
The words are crossed.
The words are rhymed.
the words are thrown around.

The stanzas are filled.
Love. Lust. Passion.
And the dirtiest of dirty words
Promising.

The guitar is placed.
And the chords are set.
The mood is shaped.
And the tune is built.
The tune is forgotten.
The tune is reinvented.
The chorus is ready.
and so is the bridge.

The voice is sung.
The voice is recorded.
The track is ready.
The melody formed.

The star is famous.
No autographs please.

What if?

What if the world around us would collapse and crumble. All those dreams we built over these years would atrophy.

Well, we would draw the curtains and make our own wonderland. Wrap each other in a warm blanket and think of new things. We'd keep those evil eyes at bay and wipe out those monsters from under our bed. In fact, we'd lie under the bed just to make sure.

We wouldn't ponder over the past or worry about what's to come. We'd just have those songs on loop and play our silly games. There would be happiness, and chai. This would be our own fairytale. No villains, no complicated plots, no sinful apples or suppressed emotions. All there would be is strawberries and cream. We wouldn't have to worry about the candles dying. We'd create our own light.

We'd secretly write letters and stuff them in nooks and crannies. Discover what's written for us. Smile and make paper planes out of them and see which one flies the furthest. We would fly with them, of course. Into the clouds. And build those castles, and slide down the bean stalk, with those golden eggs.

There would be no alarm to wake us up and no moon to put us to sleep. We wouldn't care about the milk or sugar in our tea, because it would be perfect with us. We could make believe. Jump. And mess up our hair. Walk on our tip toes or stomp the floor. Listen. Sit in each others silence, and look at each other for hours. Only there would be no one to count those hours or days..or years.

There would be no phones to bother us.Or bees to hide from. There would be no winter to make us shiver. No weeks of the day to irk us. No time to bind us. No virtues. No vices. Only romantic movies.

We would make our own colours. Mix Magenta and green. Throw the yellows and reds. They would be our colours, our paintings, our life.

So what if the world around us crumbles, We'd build our very own. Yes Mam, indeed!

Closer Home.

"You can never tell what people have inside them, until you start taking it away"

I never thought I'd understand how relevant this statement is when I read it in Shantaram, until now. I was walking back home in the bitter cold, with layers and layers of warm woollens piled up on me, with these Bollywood songs blasting in my ears, when it hit me.I realised how much I miss my people, my food, my humidly annoying weather,my family, my overpopulated buses, my spicy food, my bollywood dramas, My Country. Its funny how I've had to come so far away from all this to realise its worth. How I've had to be thrown into another country, forced to eat their food and mingle with them, to realise how much my country means to me. No, dont get me wrong, its not an aversion from any particular country that has drawn me towards mine. Its the love and respect thats surfaced, because I can't take my country for granted.

And it has come naturally over these past months. My overenthusiastic interest in the IPL, following Bollywood with an even closer eye, dancing on songs I never imagined myself dancing on. These may seem very superficial, but these are the only strings that keep me attached to what I love, who I love and where I belong. Because you dont know what you've got till its gone.

And no matter where I stay on this globe, No matter where my wanderlust feet take me. It will be a journey to bring me closer home. Full Circle.

i

I am Life
I exist between heaven and hell
flowing through your veins.
breathing sights
and colours.

I am magic
that white rabbit
with the ticking clock
taking you on a magic carpet ride.
The world stops
and time flows
I am that impossible escape
you want for yourself.

I am my muse
I am my thought
I am what you see

I am curiosity
tell me what you see
and I will make you discover

I am birth
where your thoughts emerge
where your mind stops.

I am sand
that memory you hold onto
that memory that wanes away
from the palm of your hands.

I am I.
Use me
destroy me
as I join the unbroken cycle of rebirth.
I am death.

I am mist.
I am sunshine.
that constant discord
in my world.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

This one goes miles


Today my friend organised an Anti Frown Protest in her University. They were people walking around in Bright coloured t shirts handing out candies to others and smiling at them. At first it came across to me as a rather odd thing to do. Why in the world would you have a demonstration over something as inconsequential as smiling when there are so many other issues that plague the world!

But when I took out sometime from my stressful schedule to see the pictures she uploaded, it struck me then. That no matter how rotten your day has been or how many deadlines you've got coming up, you just need that one smile telling you that's its all going to be alright, even if its just to calm you down. Its not an awfully exacting gesture to make, but it sure does wonders to how your perception changes. Its just as simple as a smile. When you show your pearly whites to someone, even a stranger on a road, its that one amazingly contagious thing they will reciprocate. It confuses an approaching frown, settles a feud and works wonders in beauty pageants!!

So there you go!
Smile, so that they smile back.
Smile, so that they smile at others.
Smile, so that everyone's smiling!

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Prisoner of her eyes.

The warmed traces of winter lined her lips
as she stood facing the window
letting the rays drench her thoughts.

Her thoughts travelled
no where in particular
She adjusted her shawl
to feel that peculiar warmth.

She was the patient one
let time take its course
she lit her cigarette
took in the nicotine.

She knotted her hair
and flung it to her side.
She kept her dark desires
on the tip of her nose.

She finished her black coffee
all the way to the last drop
She smiled and wiped her tears.
And she proceeded to her bedroom.
bare feet.