[Easy, it is
(you don't believe me?)
- to Die,
to suffer no more,
to wash your hands.
(clean?)
To Live,
(die each day?)
share one dream,
keep a promise,
(Lovers do that?)
- too Hard.]
Tailing mirages
Parched, I fall...
I seek a love divine.
Sep 24th, '08.
Must I,
Rain,
Love again?
Fickle,
in'it?
Romeo's capricious,
over-done whims.
Can I,
Rain,
Suffer again?
Sep 24th, '08.
Observership in US...
Lift me, Life,
Set me free.
My spirit, a song -
mellow,
on wind's wet lips;
sonorous,
on dew's crystal skin.
Sing me, cuckoo,
On an apple tree.
I bit it not, luscious
(blood apple).
I am of, the bound
(angel's kin).
Ever, in heaven
- my reward -
I burn.
Sep 23rd, '08
.
I am (I think) Happy today
Alone.
I was (I know) quiet yesterday
Alone.
Alone
Al-one.
Aloneness
Al-one-ness
Al-in-one-ness.
Godliness - no?
I am (I think) mistaken today
Alone.
I am (I know) Al-one each day
Alone.
Sep 19th, '08.
I received the interview call.
Dedicated to my lovely bhanja (sister's son).
In my little world,
Of big sad people,
A year back,
A giant tiptoed in.
A big happy giant,
With a whopping sunny shadow -
An omnipresent circle;
Him, centripetal.
Now, many seas across,
I oftimes repel
Big sad shadows
With sunbeams - gifted.
September 13th, '08.
With accustomed familiarity,
(A warm blade in melting butter)
It sauntered in,
The answer to a why:
This September, too kind, found I.
(After months, my muse was not shy)
Autumn breeze
O autumn breeze...
Pity me this september.
(Lo, she hides in that tree's hollow)
Drying trees
O drying trees...
Hearken, I tell your story.
(Sigh, they avert their teary eyes)
By the setting sun on yonder wall,
A lone bent shadow is cast.
My pores dont sweat, they bleed,
Hushed whispers of my smiling past.
Mid-September was important; is.
But where once we laughed; I strain to weep.
(Do you too - bleary-eyed - awake, lie?)
Long once, for 12 chimes, we waited; I long to wait.
(In deafening dark, pray whisper in my ear,
do u too count the ticks till late?)
In silence, solitude, desertion,
Cold fear of coming morrows
- do you too, heart-cleft, aching, hum:
'I stand alone among ten thousand sorrows.'
The late Ramazan nights are warm still,
september sweaty.
A gibbous moon stares at my window-sill,
quarter-bald, fatty.
I sit lazily on the bare floor,
half cool.
My laptop rests on my crossed knees
all warm.
My fingers type slowly,
calling, recalling;
creating, recreating;
carving, moulding;
making abstractions -
palpable,
tangible.
I ponder hard and pause,
ben a note and plink;
click backspace and pause
type again and think.
I poke a thought with my finger,
turn it round and round,
between tommy and peter,
squash my plastishine mound.
I shape it into a caricature;
a burlesque, a miniature;
color it amethyst and midnight blue
camouflaging its real hue.
I roll it into a ping-pong ball,
play table-tennis in my mental hall.
I recline - sleepy, and fold a yawn,
talk softly with my clay pawn...
I revv up - excited, and flash a smile,
wink mischeviously at my mauve nile...
Enamoured, I charm them;
battered, I harm them;
they flourish, they suffer,
my fellows - my thoughts.
I love them, I hate them,
I often re-create them;
They tease me, appease me,
nervously, they seize me...
I shun them, I stun them;
oftimes abandon them;
They shoo me, they woo me,
they never misconstrue me...
My soul-mates - my thoughts!
Sep 11th, '08.
