Thursday, 25 September 2014

Words, to Read

Words leap out
From pages
I have not read;
Seek me, reach out
Softly settling on my skin.
Lost, I jump out of it-
When they touch.
Those are pages
I cannot read.
Anymore.
Why? Because they
Read themselves out?
No, no. No, no.
More, perhaps, because
I'm afraid
Of what it might
Take to read.
The undercurrents would
Drag me, drown me.
I shall be lost. Lost.
To Them.
I am already lost
With Them;
Just knowing they are there. 

What it would do-
Knowing Them
Is the risk I cannot take.
They're the fallen leaves.
On the road I cannot take.  
27 August, 2014
One of those "Class" writes. :)

Wednesday, 24 September 2014

Gridlines

Neat, clear, legible.
Shall I 
Contain my content
Within them?
Content. 
Content?
Doubts punctuate
The easy distribution
Of the sky of notions
Of clouds-
Storm gatherers.
The bubbling angst
Of liquid molten emotion.
Do I lock my universe
In a grid?
Or go-
Right off it.
Drop by determined drop.
Blur the lines
With my own es-scents.
gridlines
And let the storm
Pour down
Wear down
Obliterate
That, which would 
Contain. 
Content?
Content. 
4 September 2014
(You guessed right - words spiralling out of control, from silence of an exam hall :) )

Tuesday, 23 September 2014

A Poem, Buried

It came to me
A poem.
Crept into my 
Sleep,
Surfaced in the 
Sub-conscious
Tantalizingly
Softly caressing
With a lover's touch.
I remember smiling
Then shushing it.
It faded.
(Slept on, with me!)
Then why did I feel
A heaviness
A hurt
Singeing, searing
Under my eyelids
When I woke?
Why do my eyes
Seek it?
Why do I feel 
That crushing
Sense of loss?
I buried a poem
In the soft loam
Of lost words.
Weary words that dropped
Overworked, but under-used
Heavy with nuance
Staggering, weighed with 
Too much meaning.
Lost thoughts, groping 
For expression
Mourn that poem.
Other poems come
Squeeze like tears 
Through ink
Asking to fill the void. 
I give them space
And try to flatter myself.
Attempt to smile
And live. 
In vain. 
For, it now comes to me.
I am that poem
I lost. 
22 September, 2014
Would you believe this crept through eyelids a few nights ago, and left; revisited during invigilation time, yesterday morning. Too nonsensical, surreal maybe. But a goosebumpy personal favourite for me, now.

Saturday, 20 September 2014

Burn-ished

The promise of life.
Burnishes, glows
Grows
In you.
Ripe
Autumn coloured
Fullness flavoured
Still
Poised
All knowing.

20140919_155750

Ready to dive
Maybe float?
Or Simply glide
Perhaps Soar?
Leaping like a flame
Rapture, into it!
Eventually settle
Claw
Into the Earth.
20140919_155739

Merge
Nourish
Nurture
The promise of Life. 
19 September, 2014
(Watching that leaf, poised, on the Badam Tree opposite my class, while invigilating for an exam. The photographs were taken afterwards, in the evening when the campus was empty :) )

Sunday, 29 June 2014

The Ballad of the One Who Stayed

I watched "The Lunchbox" recently and was reminded of this write here, called "The Nit Picker's Ballad", which I then shared on my Facebook Wall. That in turn brought me a couple of requests for a different ending... or the extrapolation of the narrative with a different ending. Here goes :)

On the shores, bereft, he stood
(Though it should be she
He having left at her honesty
At her gift of love)

Gazing long at the loyal waves
That came back again and again
Asking him, beseeching sometimes
To find his peace.

He was young, they seemed to say
Love will come around,
Their quiet murmur consoled
The soft splash had nothing to do
Really, with the twin trails of tears
That found their way down his eyes.

Oh no! Not love. Not forever.
He knew they did not exist.
It was a lesson he was taught.

But.
A niggling doubt, a tiny seed sown
By her yearning eyes. Her silent plea.
By her unshed tears, and brave smile
As she watched him back away.
As she watched, and did not cling.
Did not pursue. 

Was he wrong?
Must he unlearn?
He would try, he had to try
He knew.
Else there would be no way
To ease the agony of his heavy heart.
Back he went, his footprints
Erased by each happy wave
That egged him on, to seek, to love
Then hold on, and never give up
Or give in, to the
Traitorous thoughts that reneged
On faint promises made to himself!

He followed, swift, the trail of wet prints
In the soft moist sand, landwards
Till he came upon her, seated
Knees drawn up, chin on knee
A faraway sadness enveloping...
In the shadows of her thoughts,
And the small fishing boat!

May I sit? hesitant, he asked.
Mute, she nodded.

May I simply hold your hand?
His voice trembled as he asked.

I couldn't stand for you to then leave, she said
I won't, a soft whisper from him, if you'll let me stay.

Let you stay? When did I ask you to leave?You walked, away, away...And will you, again? she did not look at him
As her pain reached out and pierced his heart.

I couldn't leave, I couldn't leave...
I went away, but couldn't leave, 
Hoarsely he repeated over and over...

There were loveless shores of such emptiness
He'd wandered, that he knew, unlearned,
And learned yet again...

Trust or not, Love or not,
Forever or not...
His survivor's heart needed her saviour's heart...

And as they simply held hands
Leaned into each others' love,
A flash of insight struck his mind -
He who was doomed to wander ever
Would now find safe harbour

In his sails wafted promises of another day
Another moment, another soul
To love, to be loved.

How glad he was
He chose to stay!

Online, 29 June, 2014
Under 500 words. :D

Sunday, 15 June 2014

Photographic

If I could photograph
Each drop of rain, from when it fell
Parting painfully from the cloud
Of like minded thoughts in drops


Falling down, down, down
Barely seeing. 
Just zinging down.
Kamikaze
Of a different sort. 


If I could capture
The colours that drop caught,
In tandem with a million others...
Slip into the rainbow then,
And live those emotions.


If only, if only,
I could then save that drop.


From being spattered.

With my eyes, and through my lens
Keep it frozen, right there, 
When it deflects, reflects,
Not genuflect to the scheming
Insanity of those who don't 
Quite know, 


The magic. 

The absolute beauty.

Of how that drop came to be.

15 June, 2014
Online, prowling the www, on FB, and seeing this picture on Jeevan Mohandas' profile :) :)






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