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Sunday, 6 October 2013

The Significant Other



She wrote:
Sometimes at night, I wake up
Scared of the world, perspiring from
A bad dream, wishing you were there
With me. I close my eyes, think of happier times
And rock myself to sleep.

And I watched over you.
      I watched you rock yourself to sleep
     When your pillows are sodden with
     Disgusting tears spent for him.

I watched you belittle yourself
     Everyday, crying, satisfying his wounded ego
I looked over as you lay
     Sprawled on the bed while his nasty
     Chiselled body lay over you, shuddering in
     Orgasmic convulsions

I also saw you stare at the ceiling, moaning,
     Pretending your climax, or almost.
     For he never cared nor noticed.
I noticed your sad demeanour,
     Loneliness
     And I wanted you to know that
     I would like to do more than
     Just watch; and that day,

I watched you wake up with a start
     When I tried to console you
     In the middle of a bad dream,
     Only, I frightened you more.
I saw your horror, terror and decided
     To wait till he breaks you further.
     He didn’t disappoint, for once.


Soon I came unto you, gave you words and dreams
     And started playing with your hair,
     And touched the glitter of your nail-paint.
I learnt to let you trust me,
     And to talk to you of my love
     For you.
     We talked for days together
     And laughed aloud a lot
     Till they caught us in the act.


I watch over you now, my love,
     During your therapy sessions
     With the doctor who gropes
     You in your sleep

I tell you now, my love,
     One of these days
     You and I
     Will unite and let nothing
     Come between us

Only a matter of time, my love,
     Till the doctor is convinced that your
     Schizophrenic other
     Is put to rest.

We will soon be together, my love,
And teach that pervert what it means to mess with us.

Tuesday, 13 August 2013

What's in a name?

Lolita.
Soft palate, tongue and incestuous love
Lolita the Sensual.
Lolita the Name.

Titles,
References and history
The Mister and the Missus
Like the black veil of a guarded/unguarded woman,
Living beyond titles of supposed respect.
Dear Father, Mom, Professor, Kid,
'Name is a nice thing to call; use it.'

Thursday, 18 July 2013

Silhouettes

Through long French-windows, the glow of a suburb, humming in the night,
Silhouettes you right next to me
You're asleep, away in your dreams.

Blue rivers under your skin shine bright, brim with your life blood
Heaving up and down a bulb near your wrist, over your forehead
I wonder what secrets they hold.

The morning, our time for pretenses, marriage
This night,  my watchful eye cares -
for you, your dreams, your breath, your sweat

Silhouetted against the glow of a suburb that gently hums.


Monday, 18 March 2013

Humiliation.


Show me your face: falling.
I want to see the reflection
Of your heart sinking
(sugar on the top)

I know this anticipation is pushing adrenaline
I can see the flicker of a shadow in your eyes.

Your doubt creeps through your blood. and mine.
Your face refuses to connect.
I am here, unsure of you,
Or the time.
Yet we smile like we know our lifetimes.
Faux. This is the end.
We will lose something special.
But was it even special?

Thursday, 21 February 2013

The War Cry


Darkness spreads its wings
Over the eyes of a goddess
She wakes from her slumber,
Stands calm before the storm

Reaching out to face the wind, she smiles.
The distant call for battle resounds
Her legion strong behind her, she sees
Her death watching her from the skies

For a faded sense of honor
She lifts her heavy sword
From the last bit of valor
She cries out to charge

Serpents and mermaids fight below her
Dragons and demons fight above her
The goddess feels like a lesser being
She steps down from her white horse

Her feet tumble corpses
Of butterflies and birds
Her army fails, she turns
Her back to them; she flees.

-------------------------------------------------------

Her heart was strong enough to win
The war that was raging behind her
Fables of good slaying evil were true
Honor and valor were still alive.

Somehow, no bard ever told her that
The war was not worth the win nor loss

Friday, 8 February 2013

Shadow


He lurks behind the lamp-post
Circling throughout the day
Around the turn of a book
The musty smell agrees.
Thrill. Pleasure. Comfort.

In the eyes of a tear
When the loved one goes
In the invitation
Of the town's seductress.
Lust. Pain. Jealousy.

He creeps to the mind
Of a wife
Knowing her man
His smell; not his anymore.
Doubt. Drama. Love.

The cry of an eagle,
Yellow specks running
And the mother hen's underbelly
Fear. Wonder. Hunger.

In death, in life, in light, in dark
Dancing to a tune that He alone knows
Like a flame burning a forest
He steps to your moves as well
Watching. Listening. Laughing.

Tuesday, 25 December 2012

Claustrophobic Fetus


She pats her belly round.
Hugely pregnant. Expectant. Scared.
Out of her wits. Breathless.
Zoom in to her belly.

The insider cries. Muffled voice in a fluid universe.
This is the fourth state of matter,
He thinks.

The fetus cries. Sees a ghost.
Within those walls around him.
The feel of a brother dead before.
A jealous sibling never born.

The ghost screams too. The fetus kicks.
The mother gathers the neighbours.
They pat and touch
Rejoice and dance
The baby indeed did kick.

The ghost screams. The fetus is scared.
He drowns in his life blood.

The doctor says it's a complication.
Sorry we lost the kid.

The mother cried. Two drops of tears.
Selfish in the act.
She had heard not the fetus' screams
The neighbours come again.

The end.

Sunday, 23 December 2012

Raga: Lalit


Sahil, thank you.

The greatest you can wish for is a moment of silence. From the ever chaotic mind.
A few notes of music, piercing, unsettling, can topple the very fiber of your being. Take you to places you've never been before, remind you of long forgotten memories, and explode your consciousness to a thousand bits, yet collect them all again, later.
That moment of clairvoyance.


A prayer chanted to put demons to sleep
A white mandaram fresh from the dew
The soft goose-flesh under my grandmother's arms
And a swaying prayer flower about to be plucked

The warmth of Amma's frayed saree
A peal of laughter from a sibling's mischief
A nod, a smile, from the man I love
A perfection, the whole world.

Yet, your music calls to me
And I follow; rest on your chest
You split yourself, and me as well
And we make love, on grass so green

Your eternal blue face on my lap
And all I can give is my love

Thursday, 15 November 2012

Plastic Cover Kite

I am a colorless hovering plastic cover. I am free.
Only apparently though.
Oblivious am I to the string that ties me down to earth
Down to earth
Is the boy who holds the string.
His view is perfect. I am a toy,
A flying kite tugging at the string he holds.
He is amused.

Tuesday, 6 November 2012

Dark Love


One was like chocolate,
The other, strong weed.
He was a dreamer,
A coconut in sea

I

She gave him her love
And fondled his dreams,
Gave him her teat;
He drank from her love.

She filled with venom
His poisoned fangs
He feared his own thought
For he now was a beast

Aimless he ran, not
Stopping for breath
Locked away his past
And swallowed the keys.


II
She gave him her trust,
A hand to hold on.
He nodded, followed her,
Waited for peace

Tied up in ribbons,
He gave her his love
She refused to look,
For she was not his.

Carefully they tread,
Tangled in curls.
Her hair and their tale
Was one and the same

Tuesday, 9 October 2012

Lie to me

When I look into your eyes,
And we know that we're done,
That there's no more a moment
We can be Us anymore,
Lie to me.
Look into my eyes and lie that you love me
I'll smile. And die in peace.

Beauty is a sham, the music is dead,
The magic of your touch is gone.
The dance you ask is a trip to fall,
A lazy routine, souls apart.
Let me sleep now, maybe die
A shriveled body, and a lost mind.

Our love is a lie of comfort
That love we had, long lost.
Too tired to hunt for a fresh start,
Let me not take my last breath
Alone.

Even if your heart doesn't skip a beat,
Look into my eyes and lie.
Hold my hand tight and lie to me.
Let me breathe my last in peace.

Tuesday, 2 October 2012

The city girl

I stare out of the balcony, not quite sure what it is that I am supposed to enjoy. The greenery? No. The heart doesn't skip a beat when I look out and out into the meadow. Anyway, I don't feel bad that it doesn't appeal to me.

Sometimes at twilight, when the sun is down and the sky darkens, and I come fresh from my bath to dry the towel, it beats a tad bit faster. My un-spectacled eyes blur the street lights in the distance. The backdrop of rectangular building blocks, like some lego set, becomes the canvas for the flickering lights.

And I unwrap the towel from my wet hair, squinting my eyes to see the sharpness of the lights vary . There I am, in my world of flickering lights and hazy borders.
Yes, I am the myopic city girl.