With you my love...

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There are no shadows cast

On the peeling pale yellow walls

In the flickering light from the

Bulb.

 

Up above, the fan continues

to move in  a circular motion;

Slow and  steady. The mirror,

mirrors the  unkempt feeling

in the room.

 

The damp smell mixed

With the smells of love

Heightens the silence.

And the dripping water

From the basin tap sounds

Like an explosion.

 

The pillows of the bed

Lie on the torn carpet below.

The sheets; crumpled

Barely cover our bodies

Spent.

 

Your eyes look at me

Every few seconds.

The contentment on your

Face. Sleep has eluded us for

Long, but slowly the sandman

Creeps in close to you.

 

Outside, the bright sunlit

Corridors are bustling.

But the noise doesn’t reach us.

Its you and me, like always.

Together. Me lying by your side

And the hint of a smile on your

Face.

 

Suddenly, all the trouble,

The long distance travel,

The lies, the stories cooked

Up, are all but just right.

 

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I feel sorry for ‘Sorry’ – such an abused term. When you come to think of it, it is just a word, right? It holds significance in some instance and at times, it is a mere excuse. But we humans absolutely love it as an excuse, don’t we? I use this term a lot; I mean a lot! I think of myself as a kind being, and hence, if I happen to push or ignore (deliberate), I say ‘sorry’. I say sorry for things that may not need a ‘sorry’. I say ‘sorry’ to people I am not really feeling sorry for (don’t read this the wrong way). In short, I say ‘sorry’ a lot like I have already admitted. It is my ticket to moving on, a ticket to redeem myself for mistakes and sometimes, tinged with slight sadness (maybe).


But is ‘Sorry’ the right word? Mean, is it even appropriate? Like they say, first you commit the murder and then say sorry. What is the point of it? I would say nothing. Sorry – the term originated from the West Germanic term Sore that evolved to Sarig, meaning pained or distressed. It is also known…
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Bound and Unbound.

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Frayed edges. Fading verse.
Withering, yellow, moth-eaten being.
Blotchy, dusty and falling apart at the seams,
Bound no more having bound many woe-begotten dreams.

Dried ink set in time, crumbling to dust. Drunk with secrets from days of yore.
Fragile, delicate, radiating power, An unfolding menagerie of words, fiction, lies, some truths,  Papercuts galore.


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Deafening Silence

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Fear Silence, for its resilient. It is supple, yet rigid too. It holds deep secrets.   Of things forgotten and things left unsaid. It will crush you, crumble and burn. It will shatter you, stamp and destroy, Silently, leaving no sign behind.

Fear silence, for it, will get you. It’s cold, clammy, hands will bind you. Drown you in the shallow seas of sorrow. When no salt is left in your tears, You will be empty, not light.
Fear silence, for it, will see you for who are, Leaving you no place to hide, Baring your soul to all. 

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I Wonder What Ants do on Rainy Days…

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On days when the sun has abandoned us, hiding behind the grey, moody clouds. Do they sit inside their hills and wonder out loud? Do they stare outside at the rain, measuring the raindrops, letting thoughts splotch all over? Does the earthy petrichor take them down the memory lane? Or are they content with what nature has to offer? It is a part of their lives, isn’t it? They dredge up foods daily, diligently build their hills, even if it is to serve their queen, only to enjoy it on days like this, no? Maybe they do take stock of things, of their bearings. They ought to sleep it off, take a day to rest or do they lament on the lost time?
Unlike me.
When I gaze out, a gazillion thoughts fly by; some worthy of the pen, some so disturbing that I often question my sanity. I like the grey skies though. They seem like textured canvases waiting for me to scribble something. The lazy raindrops wetting the streets below and casting a temporary stain on window ledges bring a…
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Letters to the Unbeloved #10

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Dear You,
You know right, its that face of yours, that expression that always gets me – the one where you want to be practical, angry and the man who cares a damn all at once, you’d melt away, giving in to your heart. That’s the most lovable part of you. I came to fall in love with that face and that simple heart. For a no-nonsense man of the world, you had a softer side. Your brooding looks coupled with a tad bit of cynicism, made you more humane. There was a chaotic calmness about you that drew me to you.
But, your constant niceties have now lost their charm and let others invade our world. What was innocent naivety is just foolhardiness now. It was you who once told that me that I am your world, far removed from the chaos of reality. But you have blurred the lines. You vowed to let of go of the toxicity and yet, today all it takes is a few tears and you are ready to let go of the past, ready to repeat the same mistakes.
Let me be clear; I won’t participate any longer. Today, I w…
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