Sunday, August 12, 2012

The dust that surrounds us,
The dust that separates us,
A speck of dust.
I can see it,
My iris black against the dark,
The darkness of my mind.
I am the speck,
A part of a whole,
A whole lot of specks.
So many, that I cannot see,
See myself anymore,
Or me.

So clear at first,
Now hidden in this sea.
See? I am the drop,
The water drop,
In the sky,
A part of a whole.
Oh, no more,
I do not know,
What I am.

I see another speck,
Just like me.
A blemish in the sky,
A ray of light,
And we are whole,
Once more.
Not parts anymore,
But clusters, together.

I drop then,
Then again
I am a drop,
A water drop,
A part of a whole,
Not whole anymore.
No clusters, no rain, no sky, no sea,
I see no more.
My iris a black hole,
Floating into oblivion.
I must.
I am stardust.

Umbrella Love

It started like it always did, suddenly.
I was prepared, thankfully.

My yellow umbrella protected me,
People with black ones surrounded me.

I closed my eyes and imagined the scene from above,
I was a speck of yellow dust.

I was the Sun in outer space,
I was surrounded by darkness.

Slowly as I went higher and further from the scene,
I spotted another color, a bright green.

Underneath the safety of my cover, I gravitated towards the holder.
I wanted a face, a name, something more than a color.

And then we were face to face.

My umbrella brushed against his,
And green raindrops fell from it.

I felt them on my lips,
The wetness of rain.

He smiled and dried them,
Using his lips.

And just like that, we were intimate.

We swam through the black sea,
Green and yellow, yellow and green.

We were happy,

When people pushed past me,
And sometimes drenched me.

He’d be there to dry me,
To love me.

He asked me, after a few miles.
“Would you like to come under mine?”

We moved in with each other,
And formed a blue cover, together.

He held the umbrella for us,
He was the North Star that guided us.

But, there was no shore to be found,
And the tiresome journey went on.

I wanted to hold the umbrella one day.
He refused and I tried to walk away.

But it was too dark outside.
My eyes had gotten used to the light.

I did not know how to alone anymore.
How much longer could I keep this up for?

And then, it stopped raining.

And I walked away, smiling.

Friday, September 30, 2011

A Tribute to Hair

Pale yellow shining, shimmering,
Rapunzel just might be grinning.
A tribute to golden youth or you’re just a brainless fool.

Black and matted,
Stuck to your forehead the way you like it.
A tribute to years of no shampoo.

Maybe you’re the proud brunette,
Or the fiery redhead.
Your hair in the crowd,
Standing out.
A tribute to individuality or the lack of it, sadly.

Hair, Hair, Hair.
It’s literally everywhere.
It’s never the same and never different either.

So maybe we share hair
In the midst of despair,
Yours and mine
It’s the same difference,
Our only way to bind.
So stay hairy and true,
Cause this is a tribute to hair, me and you.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Meaningless Joy?

As passions flow through the wind,
The Sun shines brightly down,
The rain as eager as my dog,
Is falling on the crown,

Of the King, who sits mighty still,
For his courage doesn't fail,
The old man walks down his peaceful road,
Like a cloud lost on his way,

To the Sun, whose flowers wonder at,
The lovebirds, who chirp their happy song,
The grass is green on both the sides,
As my heart and soul become one.


The brown door creaked open
It’s hinges rusted from a long time ago
The hanging rope in a loop
Formed images of dread
In my head.

The ghosts of forgotten memories reawakened
And played their parts like professionals
The crooked steps gave away
To the passage of dread
In my head.

The vast white balcony opened up
To a solitary bulbul chirping but tense
To the cloud-covered peaks in the distance
The sun  showed its dread
In my head.

The towels hanging on the railing
Fight against the murderous breeze
The battle won and lost and won
The dancing stream beneath
Dreading the battle won
It’s thirst be quenched only by the towels overhead
Alas, It was in my head.

Ordinary things look ordinary no more
The sun a burning disk in the sky
The  flow of the wind a mutated cry
The feel of the breeze like ants sticking to me
The feeling of dread
Is all in my head.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Cold Hot Chocolate

It started of as an ordinary day. I was sitting in a bustling roadside cafĂ© waiting for my hot chocolate with extra-whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles on top. It was 8:30 in the morning. The sun had come up an hour ago and the early winter chill was still powerful. I wrapped my jacket tightly around myself as I longed for that hot chocolate. The traffic whizzed past me like bullets. The cafe was filling up as the heat was slowly gaining intensity. A young couple walked in and sat down on the table next to mine. They seemed like a happy couple who had just discovered love and fallen intensely and passionately into it. The boy could not keep his hands of the girl and the girl was smiling like she had just won a lottery. The waitress came to take their order, a very pleasing looking girl. The girl deceptively scrutinized the boy to see if he had noticed. But he had eyes only for her. The next to walk in were an old man and woman. It was instantly clear that they had been together their whole lives. The way they walked and stood next to each other it seemed like their bodies had become one. There was no need to talk or to ask. They seemed content to savour every moment just as it was. Then walked in a mother, her young son and her teenage daughter. The boy was happily eating a huge bar of chocolate which was all over his clothes and face. The girl was displaying an act of special animosity towards her mother. She wanted a coffee because she felt that she was old enough to have it but her mother didn’t think so. I could almost hear what she was thinking even from three feet way.
Suddenly the T.V. came on and on it was a horrific image. A quivering voice was saying , "And just event that will change America forever." The image was of the twin towers falling and people were dying in astonishing numbers every second. The news reporter was crying unable to say anything.
The pleasing looking waitress didn’t look so pleasing anymore. Her mascara was smeared as she dropped the coffee pot in her hand.
The girl on the table next to mine had tears in her eyes. The boy tried to comfort her but she didn’t want to be comforted. All she could say was, “Dad.”
The old man clutched his heart and the old woman closed her eyes like she was in pain. They held each others hands as if hanging on to their reality.
The son dropped his chocolate on the floor. The daughter went and hugged her mother.
I looked down at my table and saw that my hot chocolate had come and was getting cold. But I didn’t feel like drinking it anymore because the person I was waiting for was never going to come.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

My Guardian Angel:

A few weeks ago I was sitting in my school bus waiting for the bus to start moving. Suddenly a girl, who I didn’t know, sat down next to me. I was going to say hi but just at that moment an innocent-looking flower flew in through the window and fell onto my lap. Some people would say that autumn is in full swing and these flowers are literally taking over the city at the moment so the landing of such a pretty thing on my lap was not something to mull over. They would say that it ‘just’ happened and mediocre things like this are worthless. But I thought different and I was right.

For weeks I kept thinking about that little flower, which withered away by the time I reached home. It had been a beautiful thing to behold but was too fragile to bloom on. I knew in my heart that it was some sort of sign. A warning for what was about to happen. Now, I just had to figure out what that thing was.
The flower landed in my lap the second that girl sat down next to me. The timing was exact and thus, I had my only clue. The ‘thing’ that was about to happen or may have already, had to be something related to this girl. That afternoon in the bus was the first time I met her. She started talking to me and soon we became friends. I felt queer around her but could not help but succumb to her. I don’t know why but I felt like I knew her from long ago. From such a long time ago that my memories could not delve that far and my mind could not exist at such a depth. For the first time in a very long time I felt at home.

Soon enough, I became inevitably close to her. We were always together and I told her everything. From my deepest, darkest secrets to what I had eaten for breakfast that morning. She would hardly talk but listened to every word I had to say. She gave me advice, comforted me and even scolded me at times. I realized that she hardly ever told me anything about herself but I felt like I already knew everything about her. Her likes, her dislikes, her favourite places to eat, the movies and the books she liked. Such detailed knowledge about a stranger scared me but I felt nothing but safe when I was with her. I had this odd feeling that I loved her.

For some inexplicable reason, I never told my mom about Serena. Something stopped me from saying her name out loud in my house. She had never seen my house and I had never seen hers. But, I had a very strong desire to bring her home and introduce her to my family. I couldn’t think of a good enough reason not to and so I decided to give it a try. The next morning I said casually to her, “Don’t you think its weird that you’ve never come to my house?” Serena didn’t say anything and just kept smiling her friendly smile. But, I notice the slight tightening of her eyes and the sudden pain in her expression.
A little chagrined I went on in a small voice, “Well, there’s always a first right? So my house, 4-“
“No I cant.”
“But, why?”
“I have to go.”
I failed to understand what had just happened. I felt very hurt by her ignorance. I was close to tears by the time I reached home. The first person to see me was my mom and I, seeing her worried face, I told her about Serena and our deep friendship. As I told my story, my mom’s face turned white. Then, her hands started trembling and by the end she was shaking from head to toe. After I finished she burst into tears and ran into her room. I was very shocked and shaken by her reaction. I didn’t understand anything that was happening and I felt like I was going insane. There were too many questions in my mind and too many possible answers. I went out to get some air and clear my head, when the same white flower fell into my palms. Suddenly, I knew that I had put one piece of the puzzle together. The flower was a symbol of mine and Serena’s friendship. It was pure, innocent and fragile. We both had had the premonition that something was not right about our friendship. There was something odd that I couldn’t put my finger too. The flower only survived till the end of the bus ride. It stayed with me throughout my journey and left me once I was home.

Through this discover came the realization, that I would never see her again. I was still confused and hurt but I now I knew that I would get all my answers soon. I never told Serena about the flower. It was our flower but somehow it felt more like my own. And that is why I knew that I had to give it to her. So, I put it in an envelope and left it on the park bench that we used to sit on every evening. I wrote on the envelope only four words – I’ll love you, forever.

That night I had a dream. I dreamt of an elder sister. In my dream my sister was standing next to my mom, when she was pregnant with me, laughing and smiling. She was my age and spent most of her time talking to my mom’s bloated stomach. The dream kept switching between different instances showing me my sister getting ready, studying, eating and having fun with her various friends. Suddenly the dream switched to another memory of my sister. But, this one was not happy. She was lying in the bed sick with some sort of fever. And the day I was born she died. The dream ended with my sister sitting on that same park bench, with my envelope in one hand and our flower in the other, content and peaceful.

I woke up crying and screaming just as my mom ran in. she took me in her lap till I stopped crying. Then, I looked her in the eye and said,” Mom, Serena’s dead.”