LOVE OR LONGING??

I have not crossed oceans for you,

Nor have I bleeded myself to death for you.

But I have shed,

I have shed endless tears for you.

Was it ever love, or was it only longing?

Was it ever the feeling, or was it only yearning?

For I have wanted you through distance,

All I could ever do was long for you,

All I could ever do was yearn for you…

I don’t think I ever got to love you.

You were like the fragrance I could feel around me,

But not once could I hold you close.

You were like a spectre

Which floated in my imaginations…

You were like the mirage in my deserted life.

I have longed for you enough,

But I couldn’t love you ever.

I have cried for you enough,

But I couldn’t bleed for you ever.

And there will be time,

For us to love, for us to bleed,

For us to hurt, and for us to heal.

Today we long, someday we’ll love,

Tonight we yearn, someday we’ll feel.

One day, the clouds will finally pour over our deserted life,

And the rains would wash away the tears.

Till then, I would shed,

Shed endless tears for you.

And one day, I would cross the oceans for you,

And bleed in your love.

One day, we will forget memories,

And create moments.

A SMALL CHEATING...

Let's play hide and seek...
Coz I want to come in search of you,
For I have a feeling I've lost you.
And if you feel you've lost me too, 
I can hide for you as well.
We'll take turns to be the seeker.
You might get to see the corner of my scarf...
You would think I'm a fool, a careless one,
And rush to catch me.
Later when we stop for coffee
You'd tell me I'm bad with games
I'd say I never wanted to be good at them.
Only I would know, that I made you see the scarf
Coz i want to be found...
Found by you...
If you ever got to know that,
Would you say I cheated?
Coz I didn't mean to play games
I only wanted to be found,
Found by you...

YOURS...

AND DEATH IS NOT HOW I WANTED THINGS TO END

BUT THERE ARE SOME THINGS WHICH CONTINUE TO LIVE WITH US.

MAYBE THE PAIN WILL GO, BUT THE SCARS WON’T

MAYBE THE MOMENTS WILL PASS, BUT THE MEMORIES WON’T…

YET ANOTHER SPRING AND ANOTHER SUMMER

HAS COME AND GONE IN OUR LIVES.

ITS TIME WE UNLEARN OLD HABITS,

ITS TIME WE DISCARD OLD SHELLS.

ITS TIME WE SEE THE SILVER LINING

HIDDEN BEHIND EVERY DARK CLOUD.

THERE ARE THINGS WE’LL MISS,

THERE ARE TIMES WE’LL CRY

NOTHING COMES EASY, NOT AT LEAST IN LIFE…

BUT DEATH IS NOT HOW I WANTED THINGS TO END

AND ITS TIME I FOUND OUT…

FOUND OUT WHO I AM,

APART FROM BEING “YOURS”.

in poetry...

if i could speak to you in poetry

i would speak of the rustic poems,

that the mango rains and scorching sun

composed for us once upon a time.

when we tiptoed out of home in the afternoon

and ran barefeet unto the meadows

teasing the cows and playing with the herd

our toes playing hide and seek in the grass.

when we chased the sun

and were chased by the moon

we had dreams of running into the horizon...

the chase ended with the day

when the sky grew red 

you wanted to gobble up the sun

you said it would taste like a ripe orange

i cried till you said you would spare it for me.

and i smiled as i believed in you.

blowing of conchshells signalled homecoming

as she welcomed the dusk with oil lamps.

we tiptoed into the house once again

waiting for dawn, and waiting for the chase.

our dusty feet, our eyes full of dreams,

had created poems long back...

only today i would like to recite them all to you,

if i could speak to you in poetry.

incomplete...

Those tattered dreams and scattered memories do taunt

fingers search for the right keys,

but can never strike the perfect note

the tapping of the keyboard,

the disharmony of the piano

words and music flow inadequate

and never accurate.

a heave, a sigh, a new start again...

an eternal try at reaching the perfection

but...for what?

of tears, and songs, and symphonies too short

coz you don't have time for lengthy poems.

a drop of tear to trickle down the cheek...

not two not three.. just a drop.

i sing a song, but suddenly stop.

between my lyrics and my music

i lose the symphony somewhere amidst

my half formed tears, my incomplete songs

my unwritten poems

the care i never showed

were all for lack of time...

time to love, time to know,

and time to care and time to show.

Someday in a different horizon,

when days and nights wud last for long

when you and i have time enough

i will cry all over for you,

i will sing those unsung melodies,

and i will write those poems i promise.

i will show you how much i care.

till then, let my half formed tears, 

my incomplete songs,

and my unwritten poems,

be witness to how incomplete i am without you...

TRANSITION

in joblessness and in gluttony,

in madness and in peace

in losing old ties and forming new ones

in missing home to setting up new homes

in pictures and forgotten promises

in breaking down and in break ups

halts, pauses, stops and ends...

in beginning of days and end of nights

in heat, sweat and contemplation of rain

as soap cases and old bedsheets are left behind

memories peep in from the crumpled sheets

a little bit of that left over perfume

the last drops of the unfinished drinks

a half filled bottle and a half empty room

in late goodbyes and the early goodbye notes

in love, in hatred, in jealousy, in pain...

in empty shelves, and abandoned beds

life is lived in transformation...

rain...

In your eyes I see

Raindrops of the yesteryears

Frozen memories melt.

* P.S. : My first try at haiku!!! 

SIBLINGS

Sitting up on my bed at midnight, I could sense the heavy breathing of sleep-drowned fellows across the dormitory. For a boy of six, hostel life was quite tough. I missed mom, but thought of my baby brother more; miles away from me, oblivious to my presence, someone was growing up in my old clothes…

**P.S.:- My first try at '55 fiction'.

SHOCKS.....!!!!!

Surprises and shocks…synonymous? Well, sometimes yes, and sometimes no. A friend said, surprises make you happy, shocks leave you stoned. After a long long time, I got a lazy Sunday morning, and I had planned to sleep through it. Instead, I am up sipping a cup of hot and aromatic Darjeeling tea, and thinking of another Sunday, somewhere six years down the timeline.

It was a sunny Sunday morning, and I was at my English coaching class with a bunch of friends. The very idea of attending this coaching was never studying, but hanging out with my best buddies. We would look forward to those two and half hours of uncorrupted fun impatiently for the whole week. As I took my seat, posing to be very serious since our teacher was still in the room, my friend who was seated just beside me opened his fists, which held a candy. He offered it to me. Well. He wasn’t generous enough to offer candies usually, so I was a bit surprised. I snatched it from his hand, contemplating that he might change his mind in seconds. I tore the packet, and put it in my mouth. “It’s a gum”, he said, “chew it”! I crushed it between my teeth, expecting a juicy treat, but lo!!!! I shrieked out loud and closed my mouth as I realized out teacher was sitting just in front of me. We weren’t allowed to eat during the coaching hours, though we always managed to sneak in food, snacks and candies. My face distorted, I couldn’t keep my eyes open as I felt the tangy pang all over my tongue and teeth. It’s a new brand of gums called “Centre Shock”, my friend whispered in my ears, and gave me his signature evil grin.

My teacher frowned and asked, “What is it”?

I made a sorry face and kept staring at her. The tangy pang was now spreading all over my mouth and all I wanted was to spit out that horrendous thing my friend had tricked me into putting in my mouth. My friend, sitting right beside me spoke now: “Ma’am, actually a bug bit her on her you-know-where… and …” the rest of the sentence drowned under a huge fit of laughter from my friends who were sitting around that rectangular table. Now I must say, we were a batch of fifteen odd students who cringed and sat around an eight seater dining table. Our extra strong bond could not make our teacher divide us into two batches. We insisted on taking the coaching together, though it required immense space management skills. But we said we would manage. We would just stick our asses to one corner of the chair in the name of sitting. But all that inconvenience was worth the fun we had there.

Coming back to where we had left, I mean the fit of laughter; I got so mad at my friend for making a joke out of me. But I couldn’t swear at him as I had to keep my mouth shut. There was a turmoil going on inside my mouth and every second was making it worse. My teacher yelled and put their laughter to an end. Then she turned at me and asked, “Oh, dear, is it a bad bite? Is it hurting?” All I could do was nod in acceptance. I could feel tears in my eyes.

She got up, opened a closet and took out a ball of cotton and a bottle of Savlon. Giving it to me, she said, “Here, take this and go to the washroom”.

Washroom, oh yes, the right place, I thought. I couldn’t wait to spit that evil thing out of my mouth. I grabbed the cotton and Savlon and ran to the washroom. As I reached the basin to spit it out, I realized, the electrifying sour taste had turned somewhat sweet by then. In a few more seconds, it turned completely sweet, just like a normal gum, and I was chewing on the gum blissfully. I came back from the washroom after a while, and our teacher was gone from the room after assigning us a few test papers to solve. As I entered, there was a fit of laughter again. The friend who trapped me into the trick had by now narrated the entire episode to the batch, I realized. I boxed his ears before taking my seat and then joined the laughter.

Though the first experience was terrifying, I soon became a great fan of “Center Shock”; in fact, all my friends did. We almost became its brand ambassadors in our small hometown. Our coaching sessions from then on were incomplete without that shocking gum. We went on to fool a lot more people with the gum, and every episode was hilarious, but according to my friends, not as hilarious as my episode. School life soon ended, and so did the coaching sessions. Our English teacher had arranged for a farewell party for us, and in my farewell speech, I narrated this entire incident; and I still remember the look of shock and surprise on my teacher’s face after hearing it out. 

AS I DRY IT DOWN...

I shed it every night

During the day it piles up again

By evening it's full to the neck,

Sometimes it hurts as I can feel the throb

By night its brimful

And then it starts overflowing

Some times through the eyes,

Some times through the nib

It overflows, nevertheless...

CHANCE AND CO-INCIDENCE

Sometimes, its ok, just ok to let go. Sometimes, we know, somethings do not belong to us. But sometimes, letting go off something becomes the toughest. When fate lets us down over and over again, a flimsy voice called hope whispers in our ears, “Lets try once more, just one last time”. They say, there is need, want, and desire. But, how can we control? With time, desire becomes want, and want becomes need; and then we spend the rest of our life, chasing that desire, oops! Sorry, that need. It is life you know, just like the stock market. You sure can predict, but you cannot assure, you cannot insure. Everyday, we take numerous chances, knowingly or unknowingly.

We read a bit more of the morning newspaper, taking a chance that if we walk at a faster pace than other days, we would still manage to get on to the 9:50am Metro. But what if we miss? So what? The 10:00am metro is still there. We’ll walk a bit faster from the station to the office. Sure we’ll make it on time. What if we do not? So what… boss might not be on time today! What if he is? So what… he might be in a good mood today! What if he isn’t? Well, in that case, I’ll plug my ears while he barks. Simple! There’s always a solution. Doesn’t mean I should leave the article on my star attraction’s next movie half read.

That is life. Dance while you have the chance. Who knows, tomorrow, you may lose your legs in an accident. Or better still, tomorrow you may not have good music playing. What if you can’t dance well? Well, who cares… its your life, you’re dancing to enjoy, not to entertain others. You wanna go into the ocean when the temperature is running on negative? Go do it. The doctor’s always there if you fall sick. I mean, when else will you use your medical insurance. Don’t tell me you’re waiting for some deadly disease to attack you!

I don’t say I’m a philosopher; but there are things life has taught me. And there are things I’d like to share with all; if not me, my experience can help people. I have learnt that sometimes, it is very very important to take a chance; there are possibilities that you will fail, but there are those certain ‘sometimes’ when you win. We all wanna be winners, but a very few of us are ready to take chances. It is astonishing, that we expect so much from life, and leave a large amount of our lives to fate. Why not try out hope this time? There might be disappointments, but somewhere, someday, somehow, a chance might turn out to be worth risking.

How many times did you stop yourselves from taking that crazy step, for the fear of being rejected? Never? Well, I did, and did it a lot of times. Coz my ego came before my happiness. I couldn’t take no for an answer, never. But now I realize I was wrong. However, now it’s too late, a bit too late. Now is when there are no chances left. Do not rely on co-incidences. Take chances. Once you learn doing that, life will be much more adventurous, much more worth living. You wont just live; you would look forward to live. Life is a Marauders Map. You have to question to get an answer, and you have to swear you are up to no good. Sometimes being a bit bad doesn’t kill, does it? Period.

about me and him

His entering my life, and leaving it, both were very silent. When I held him for the first time, I knew he was mine, always. And when he left, I wasn’t even there to hold him for the last time. Today as I look back in retrospect, I realize how much difference he had made to my existence. Had he not been there to share the darkness of the night, and the warmth of his body, I wonder how I would have ever been able to pass that phase in life. When the whole world fell asleep, he somehow understood that someone needs to be up with me, someone needs to fight the loneliness for me, and he stood up to be that someone. I can still recall those long nights, when nothing but silence passed between us. Yet it felt so great to just hold each other tight. Every morning as I woke up, he would be fast asleep in my arms. Just staring at him gave me my purpose in life, I knew I had to live, because he had to live. Strangely enough, he died, whereas, I still live.

He died very young, probably because he was too good to survive long. But in the space in my heart in which he is the king till today, he left a rainbow of memories. He was a snowy white, puny little spitz dog and that is why I had named him Casper: the good ghost. Beautiful eyes he had, which glistened with tears every time I scolded him; and a wide smile, which no one believed. But I knew that my boy could smile. Casper taught me a lot, he taught me love, he taught me loyalty, and he taught me how to live for someone else, as he did for me. And his absence too taught me a lot, it taught me that we all need someone to love, and we all wish to be loved back equally. But human love can rarely give us that selflessness which this creature had given me.

He was at the receiving end of all my emotions: love, care, anger, frustration, misery, sadness, laughter and tears. And one day, I had to leave him. Maybe that was the worst decision of my life. I left the one I loved the most and by whom was loved back the most. But what else could I have done, my hostel would not allow in my dog, and I had to think about my career. I messed up a lot with life, and he lost the zeal to live on. I was in my hostel when I got the call from home, that Casper was dead. He couldn’t survive the pain the accident brought him. His death did not bring me tears, though I tried to cry for almost a week, all efforts in vain. Probably because he was not to be let away with tears, probably because he deserves to be remembered till I survive. And so he left me with a hollowness, an emptiness inside, which I face now and then, even today. This note was due, a long, long time, but I never mustered the courage to write it down. Because somewhere down the heart, Casper lives on. I cannot imagine him dead.

real and virtual

And far from all the fret and the fury, far from the noisy bargain of the real world, as I travel this road, every single time, I so long to belong here, once more, forever.

I know I am just a passerby, who has the right of a glance at this rural peace, but not the right to touch it, to feel it, and to relish it. They are scared, that I might devour it, so they conspire to keep me apart. And I could never make them understand that I stand here, with greedy eyes, only to admire, and not devour.

As I think of my now and my then, I so long to return to the then again. As I laze in my terrace roof, basking under the warmth of the late winter afternoon, I can’t see a human object around me; except for the rows of wet clothes, waiting patiently to be dried crispy by the power of the sun. And yet again, I realize that such a power holds this soil. The power to keep me back, but unfortunately it holds me no more. It has let me loose, for quite a while now. And I have since then, been like a creeper, living a parasitic existence. But somehow, I am reminded of this ancient myth, wherein the earth opened up and threw her out, only to take her back in due time. I relate so much to her. But I know, between the out and the in, between the rejecting and the absorbing, there are a series of tasks I am bound to perform. An episodic epic, my life is to compose.

As I lie down on the terrace, my laptop being my only connection to the outer world, I suddenly hear a ping. I chat away blissfully, forgetting the entire existence momentarily. I smile, I frown, I think, I laugh… but it is only momentary. And I love this, even if I know quite well, that this is only virtual, and far removed from the mundane reality of the everyday world you and I live in. I do not visualize you with a head, torso, and limbs. You are to me, like a square box, with random lines erupting like a volcano out of nowhere; and it is again momentarily, that I want to melt away in the heat, though my real existence is almost frozen. I regain my senses, to look around, and realize that the afternoon has said goodbye, and the sun has been down for quite long now. I gaze up to see a thousand twinkling lights above my head; I reach out my hands, but can’t touch them, can’t count them. It’s winter here, and I realize I must have more clothes on. My flimsy adornment can’t fight the chilly winter evening. Hence I bid goodbye to the momentary warmth of your volcanic existence, to cover my real self up and defend myself against the cold reality.