Random Thought

Its like people running with their backs on the present towards the unknown. Everyone seems to be in a frantic attempt to win over the uncertainties of life. Its surprising how many people forget to 'live' in the process, how many people never know love, the magic and the beauty of it, how many people just don't let out a sigh at a beautiful sunrise, how many live their whole lives with a compromise, because their souls were too chained to fly in search for what was best for them.

Ambient Light

[I often narrate in first person, but I am just a story teller. Almost everything I write here is fiction. This poem is from the perspective of a man remembering his wife.]


The light escaping from the screens
falls on our photograph on the side table
You and me, dim shadows
warm candle light
You were high on champagne
and laughed that hearty laugh
and my heart glowed a little brighter
than the ambient light
I had held you by the waist
and you were laughing loud
facing the ceiling
when the camera clicked


"You will have to move on"
you had said, teary eyed
as I had hushed you
and told you about the advances in science
I lived in denial, you said
and showed me the statistics
You saw the seventy percent
I tried desperately for the thirty
That was uncharacteristic of us both


I was painting the porch
for the imminent summer
and watching the butterflies
in the garden
when the doctor had called
He had the reports
Its all too distinct now
the smell of paint
the warm breeze
the exact brightness of the afternoon
All the months that followed are blurry
syringes and wards
disinfectants and phone calls
Identical days of urgent rush
and my solitary tears at night
I often watched that picture of us
to remember your laughter
and the long golden tresses
that chemo took away from you
You still looked beautiful though
Nothing could take away the twinkle
of your hazel eyes


I often sat by the bed
wondering
in what precise moment
the white cells in your blood
decided to mutate
and tip the beginning of our journey
into a cruel terminal
Your pale skin
smelled of lilies that night
when the moon was full
and you had shown me
how the diamond on your finger
glittered
"Preserve me in your poetry
when I am gone"
I have kept that part of the promise
But it feels unnecessary to move on
anywhere away
from your pervasive smell
that dwells in the house
and from our togetherness
that comes alive
in perfect tenses
on full moon nights


Shared with Poets United.

May be

May be we shall meet

only after the moon

has been half asleep

and the heart, sleepless, 

awakes to solitary dreams

May be you will keep searching me

touching me and exploring me

through your words

on such long breezy nights

and go about your life

the next morning

May be that is how we will stay 

in what we call love

deeply, dreamily




Shared with Poets United.

Journey

Let me see you once

against the sunset and the sea

Blue, yellow and then orange

Your silhouette will be

Fill again your palette

and paint me once again

with hues of skies and waters

till only blue remains

Come climb the deck with me

and breathe the salty breeze 

Lets gaze together the horizon

until the shore is reached

Faith

They push and fight

for a single sight

of the sacred stone

I turn my eyes

and think

 of someone who died
in the hope to unite
them all in his love

Oblivion

Toothless smile

oblivious

of the still silence

in the room

She will never know

what its like

to lose a mother

Last night

You came last night

dressed in your best suit 

My heart fluttered 

as you smiled

that familiar, disarming smile 

That gold wrapped box 

you held 

glistened

in the light of the moon 

that looked almost

like a halo behind you 

But it was blurred 

by the mist in my eyes 

as you placed 

under my feet

those beautiful ballerina shoes

And I lost myself to the music 

and to you

for what seems like an eternity 

It still smells of you 

all around me 

almost as if 

you were really here last night 

Just you 

and me

No accident 

No wheelchair

Linked to One Shot Wednesday. Happy Birthday to the site!

Banaras

People here name their kids 'Banarasi' and 'Varanasi'. That is how pervasive the spirit of this city is. It seeps into your identity before you know it, like the water of the Ganges filling all those earthen lamps of hopes, prayers and dreams that float on its surface every evening. The city bustles with its very own Banarasi energy that years of bewildered foreign gaze could not refine and change. They wear saffron and chew paan. They wear green and chew paan. They laugh a paan-ful of laughter as they roam the streets of Daalmandi and Chowk like the characters in Premchand's Sevasadan. But that was decades back. Since then, the bicycles and horse carts have been replaced by cars and buses. But the streets are just as narrow, the buildings just as colonial and ancient. But that is Banaras, ever bubbling with noise and energy, never changing.

Love Died

There was a love who died. No, it was not resurrected, not even on Easter. It died a sudden death. True, it was not doing well for a while. But its death was like that of a man dying of common cold. Shocking, mocking, almost comic.

P.S. This is just a random scribble. To me, this story is complete in itself. But if it inspires you take these words and create something more, I will be interested to read. Leave me a comment! :)




P.P.S. I am still on the 'break', and I am enjoying these days of refrain when blogging does not come much in the way of life. I have moved to a bigger, more airy house that overlooks a park, and I love it! Thanks for your love!

Oblivion

Fling me back in oblivion

where I could paint you

with naked desires,

no eyes on them

Where you would smell

the fragrance on you

and know I have

stroked my brush again

and changed something

tiny, and impossible

for you to find

but never letting you be

the same

I would shroud a shade of you

with purple 

and love you until

I wouldn't remember 

what you really are beneath

Thats when I would start over

bottom up

to reshape, refactor,rearrange, 

my reasons of loving you






Linked to One Stop Poetry. Visit them to read other poetry and also Shay's brilliant opinion on what makes good free verse.