And we were taken there.
The place looked damp and stale;
it smelled old and unused .
The attendants seemed to have walked out
of a rusty picture frame,
 with an undated picture.
I looked around and
felt like the place had always existed
and been the same, with the same people.
You know how elusive
your heart and your intuitions are:
Somehow i felt the place was questioning me,
 like i owed it something;
Its relentless stare injected guilt into my veins
and no, i had no clue about the source.
Wearing all these thoughts like a dozen fragrances,
 i was led to my room with a few i loved
The place was getting heavier with
 the dark stares
that seemed to snatch your soul away.
We did laugh but i know
they were watching and were not pleased.
Every creaking door,
every muddy window,
every darkened ceiling,
every cursing mirror,
had a story to share,
but there was no voice.
You know a place is not happy
when people whisper and never talk,
when they trudge and never walk,
they seemed to have stolen my sleep
for
the place had no peace.
I was shaken out of my wide-eyed,
sleepless slumber with
urgent feet rushing past,
raking up and spreading around-
 the dormant bad, the place had been nesting
It was then that the darkness of the eyes
was taken over
by a burning evil glare of greed
and wicked lust:
Yes, these are the eyes that take lives;
these are the eyes that kill
They burn alive cradles and wombs;
relations and care;
love and humanity.
And, they move on-
leaving behind
half-burnt, rotting places like this,
places that smell of death
places that had seen life
and
places that will never live again,
places that will suffocate the life in you,
 in a sight-
Lifelessness is all that's there now.

The strokes of life still look distant
My skin absorbs the essence and
reflects the radiance of many colours
but the picture is still, incomplete
it's beyond my faculties,
beyond my strength
to see, comprehend or summon to myself-
the colour that will bless the picture that i bear,
 with life
I was crafted and handed down-
blank-
I was a pale, unused canvas;
through my days in the wonder called the world,
time stroked my skin with
different shades of different hues
Even the canvas does not know
 the mind of the artist,
the canvas does not recognize
the hue that will make it complete
Sometimes a shade entices the canvas
but my artist changes his mind and
some other times,
the beauty of the shade fades away
as it seeps into my skin.
No, i don't understand the colours or my artist
I just am a passive that knows not it's own fate
There is a colour-
i am sure this is the one
but
it is still locked up in its space,
on my painter's desk
It is the most beautiful hue i have ever
laid my eyes on
I wish it reaches me
colours my skin
seeps deep into it
brings me to life
and stays forever
but
it still is far away-
all i can do is- look at it
wish, wait, and hope
My painter is my lord
He knows the picture he has in mind and
he knows the colour that'll complete it
If this is the one,
then
it's only a matter of beautiful moments before
the magical stroke reaches me.

The castles of sand that i build,
the spirit of concrete will inhabit-
I believe.
I may have learned a lot, here and there but
i shall never be as good at any of it as
the one thing
i never learnt, the one thing
i excel in, the one thing
that will, sooner or later, find its way to reality-
I believe:
My dreams.

You gave me a sparkling chest
of countless treasures;
dreams- of logic defying dimensions,
of colours i had never seen before;
treasures that you promised were mine to keep
but you never told me-
about the rule-
that things change
because i will change-
so, with each passing year
some dream-stones lost their glint
some dream-bubbles burst
some dream-shapes broke

I did see all this happen
to my most treasured treasure
but i wasn't troubled
instead i felt, as i looked
i was never robbed of my treasure,
it was on me to handle it;
the value of the treasure
that i could see being lost,
i had the choice of adding to my own-
I am glad i had the eyes to see.
I was never robbed of my treasure
I was never robbed of my dreams.

Between my desire to reach the sky
and the hope to help some just see the sky:
could you say which to pick?
I would like to take the middle path,
 if there is any
May be the sky i am trying to reach
 is a deceptive mirage.
May be while moving closer to the dust,
i am growing bigger and bigger:
closer and closer to my sky,
in a way i could never think of before.
What if there's more?
More to me than i know of
More to me than i can see
More to me than i can comprehend
What if i am a middle path myself?

...

How could you lose yourself?
How could you?
How could you?
As wonderful, as pure as an infant's smile
and, where did you lose it?
You were out to get something in return
what did you get?
Why did you not stop and think?
Why?
You were the wealthiest
You were the most blessed
Each one of you
What did you exchange it for?
What?
What spell were you under that
reason abandoned you?
Or, did you choose to walk away?
May be it wasn't lost
I think you threw it away.

06.10.10

Scattered as vapours
too weak to bother
the precious stone is lost
has been replaced
barbed self-love punctures the heart
i sit beside my corpse
too weak- TOO WEAK
i am the murderer
my corpse stinks
it stinks with my foul
it cannot be disposed of
you have lost the right
you have died too
it's not the body
that which you call your life
is haunted by your own ghost
such a fool to think you could
fool yourself
what butchery
what a mess
worse than death
worse than anything else

Just.

It's a bright night
twinkling stars, as far as i can see
i am sitting in the open
under the purple sky
the grass is moist
the air smells of dew
there's a silent life in the woods
it keeps me company
i am sitting
looking at nothing
but seeing everything
it's a beautiful moment-
i touch the wet grass
with my palms and my feet
i love being caressed by
every little life that surrounds me
i am sitting
thinking of nothing
but i have everything on my mind
i am happy
i love the heavy, perfumed breeze
as it rubs against me
carrying me with it
to all the places it goes
The picture's perfect but for
the empty horizon
i sit here, looking at it
it's trying to say something
i think i hear it now
it says it has a part of me
and that now, the time has come
i see a dark figure, rising out of it
It moves towards me
It's a beauty i have never seen before
It's a peace i have never felt before
It's a strength i have never seen before
It's a calm i have never had before
the horizon still speaks to me
it's telling me
This is the moment i have lived for
It's him
i can see him
the dark night cannot cloak his radiance
he's my light
It's him
i can see him
he's here
i stand up
i want to walk up to him
but my steps tell me to wait for him
"you have waited", they say,
"it's his time now"
he's here
i can see his face now
it's you.
The perfumed breeze has taken on
a new scent
it's my scent
it's his scent
it smells of him
i can feel his breath
as i stand looking at him
his eyes sparkle like diamonds
they have walked into my eyes
we stand, looking at each other
i can feel the fountain rise within me
now, that i am with him
my lips part, to say something
but his eyes tell my words to stay
"it's our moment", he's saying
"We have waited "
he comes closer and,
Dawn breaks
he puts his arms around me with
the love that has never touched me before
"I love you."
"We're here."

Friend

The pain subsides, the emptiness remains.
I miss you friend.
Our friendship was not perfect but then, it's that imperfect joy from a dear friend that i miss.
I know it's time to move on
but i can't and never will.
It's like the scar from a wound that refuses to go
no matter how hard you try
It's this very scar that becomes a part of your physical being,
your identification after a point of time,
you just learn to live with it.

She

She knows not her own self
please leave her alone
She has a huge emptiness within her
how it came to be
and, when will it cease to be
She knows not herself
please leave her alone
This time is like a sea voyage
She knows her feet will touch the shore soon
but her heart has grown sick of the sea
She dreams of the dry land
She is restless to feel the grains of sand beneath her feet
She knows it won't be long before She is there
but, her heart revolts
It floods her body with currents of tremendous longing
She tries to tame her heart
but she knows it is never in reach
She will stay afloat despite the tempest
till her feet embrace the shore
She knows not her own self

This Morning

This morning, i woke up to the past,
all that there was and, all that will never be
This morning, i woke up to the distant memories of the past,
with an aching longing to own, once again,
all i gave up, drunk in the self,
oblivious of everything else
This morning, i woke up to the beauty that there was and,
the wilderness that will always be
This morning, i woke up to my heart, made of many parts
This morning, i woke up to the one i lost, and, lost it will always be