Random verses all written in a day.

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When separate eyes meet in a crowded city square,

Over exploits of their humanity, and time, once and again–

They know they were meant to stay together,

Because they were met by a chance of eternity,

To be lost again, and again.

***

I walk through a dark corridor,

The air hungover with muck and gloom.

The door of the forbidden room stands tall

Like the brooding death of innocence.

I’ve arrived the point where it appears clear,

I’m just trying to kill a love I’ve given up believing.

But the stark darkness stuns the virginity in me,

Which is eager, very eager to take me,

Someplace else…

***

Those roads will be difficult to walk on, now alone.

The sand pebbles and germs, and the whirlpools of air

Which like separate worlds, have flourished to life

From the touch of our feet last trodden.

Preserving our childhoods, and pearls of sweet labor lost-

How dare I violate the sacred order of the worlds,

Which, if, might be conspiring to bring our feet together?

Which, if not, how can I disturb the ghost world,

Where in spirals of dust, our ghost selves would dance?

You will apologize to me, I know, you will. One day.

You know, I deserve one, for what I will have to go through…

The trauma of never being at home, while at home.

 

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Giving Chances

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Why do you hide under a veil?

When all you could be doing is soaring on your wings?

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Why do you reach for stars,

When all you could know is you have it in you to shine?

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Why age them in just peering through,

Those eyes, yours, shy like a virgin, which want to learn…

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The veil, that poor see through thing,

Are you letting it, or is it really caging you, against your will?

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Have they tied anklets around your feet,

In gold and silver that gleam but clang like cowbells?

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Tell me of your childhood, your real one.

Did you have a ‘gudda’* then, you loved to fondle around all day?

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You did, didn’t you? You loved him.

Then everything changed, when your childhood was taken from you.

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You were just told, what was right and wrong,

You just winked once and your lovebirds took off into the blue.

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Never you got to see them ever again,

Those mad birds, soaring high, higher than ever you’d flown your kite.

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Those disobedient little creatures,

But why aren’t you happy, that they’ve left you…?

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You must wonder where now they live,

Have they gone away far enough to live in some other world…?

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Those two eyes, two tiny little birds,

Must be wandering among all beautiful things, which you won’t know…

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Those obstinate, selfish birds, that live in dreams,

Ever wondered how they bless humanity every night? They hope for us.

 

 

 

 

 

The Lotus and The Dragon

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The lotus cloud soars overhead,

Sailing across as if the sky was but a foaming sea.

Then follows the great dragon, flapping its brazen wings

Its talons reach to snatch the lotus flower.

Breathing out its nostrils full of flame.

There’s a battle going up there. Of chaos with peace.

Of the beast that tramples innocence.

How many battles must have been fought thus?

What of victors, what of who’s been paying for it,

No answers, my mind is already somewhere else.

Finite Hearts

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The stars were once plucked from the ashen grey skies.

They shine on lips now, and in eyes which cannot cry.

The sheen of all the silken dresses was extracted, and torn apart.

Making the poison that flows in the waters to mix in the dirt.

Every heart has slept, every bedside lamp extinguished.

It’ll be just one last time, that we would get to dance…

The paper fire’s shriveling up in the dusty grate,

We’re burning up our old love letters to warm us tonight.

Come on, baby, dance with me, this’s that one last time,

When it’s time to bid goodbyes for good and smile.

History ends tonight, civilization will die with the ghost of us,

Tonight there will be no words, just two couples of teary eyes.

And we dance, silently, until we fall, of exhaustion.

Two finite hearts finally, slowly dying in each other’s arms.

Six Months Ago

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Running around,
Screaming around <in my head>
With no questions to ask,
And all pain and guilt.

<Six months ago> You made me wipe away my tears,
<Six months ago> You had me smiling again,
<Six months ago> You had me listening to metal!
<Six months ago> You taught me to love…oo oo ooooo….

Love, love, love, <love, love, love, love, love>
Some mystery it is. <How it happened>
You’d know it all better. <Sure you do>
It’s easy to mistake,
But then it never is.

<Six months ago> It all changed.
<Six months ago> You changed it for me.
<Six months ago> You, you, you happened.
<Six months ago> And your cycle became my eternity.

Words, little words, ran out of mind. <my my, my, my, my>
Some mystery that is. <How it happened>
You’d know it all better. <Sure you do>
It’s easy to mistake.
But then is it?

I plead guilty, <I am I know>
But like all crimes, punish me. <Oh, don’t leave me alone>
You cut me off, like I’m made of paper.
You turned away, like it’ll undo the last six months.

<Six months ago> You spoke a spell, <or something like that>
<Six months ago> If you’d remember, we had something to fight for.
<Six months ago> Six months have passed, and it’s just hurting now.
<Six months ago> You killed us but then there’s the ghost of our laughter…

Taunting through the day and haunting the nights,
You’re out there, soaring up on sunny beaches,
With the tides and the sun, while in silence life leaks outta me,
Caught in the perpetual ice storm, you and life conspired to put me in.

<Six months ago> I wished to die, and fade,
<Six months ago> What I feel now.
<Six months ago> You came in and that changed.
<Six months ago> Now you’re gone and won’t come back again.

All I wanna apologize for is,
I really do miss you.
Baby, you were all the good things,
I believe life ever had to offer me, that I will miss.

Thoughts, ramblings.

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3.50 am | 11 Oct, 2013

I don’t see any point in what I am doing right now… So there is no point in anything anyone else does in an attempt to be happy. Some people work, some people play. When they all know happiness is always momentary and rare is the case that lovers die together. I don’t know where my endeavor would be categorized. It’s been a few days or so it feels. Some seventy days it’s been, like a whirlwind. I have felt time like a companion, strolling along with me, running, stumbling, leaping and loitering aimlessly while I sought to pursue my happiness that he makes me anyway. It’s wrong, I know. Hoping and waiting, but I do anyway. With everyday he makes me fall for him a little while falling out of it a little. The throbbing heart just waits to see him again. The pulsating little light behind his form when I see him, sets my heart at unrest. My nerves are on fire, and deep inside me there is this all consuming desire, just to put myself out there at his mercy. I hate myself for it. I’ve had this before, and I don’t want history repeating. I don’t want to become another Meera, waiting for Krshna to be hers. My mornings became my nights and midnight my dawn, and yet desires are never ending. The wait is always there. So much is at stake, just so much, and yet he is unaware of it.

It will rain and it will rain ♥

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The air simmers, blisters. Induced hallucinations.

The cracked open mouth of wounded earth,

Seeped with blood red and covered with rust.

Centuries and eons of memories clouded by dust.

 

The fragile lines were breached once long ago,

The tempest had once rushed into my shore.

It’s been long and time has swept away the resort

The floods and waves of tide haunted me to drown.

 

Then the sea is just a embittered memory,

And it was a heap of sand I’d leapt into. Not death.

See, the passion had been sung well to drone.

To arise and laugh back, when mirages mock.

 

It’s been long I’ve lived scared to scraps and bolts.

It, the post traumatic stress disorder in me craving blood.

But I’m ready to go all out again, for surfing in the sea of love.

And she has to come out too, the madwoman locked in my head…

 

The fighter in me. The rebel. The poet. The lover.

The unchained philosopher, her storm unleashed.

Night has finally settled bets with daylight

There right there, fate’s let my midnight sun dawn.

 

Now again the tempest blows ashore, from the east.

The distant roars of the hungry cranky clouds resound

After flashes of desire reflecting his heart and mine.

After a long time I know, it will rain and it will rain.

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Prologue of “The Return of the Forsaken”

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I have spent countless restless nights, waiting, waiting, wishing for the end of the world. Wishing however is not the right word for it, since the word doesn’t cover it, aptly enough, the sensation, the burning desire that has consumed the best parts of me with it, over the centuries (or should I say millennia?)…Hell, it seems I do have lost my count after all! Worthless, futile has been this life, I know, I shouldn’t be allowed to live this life. I shouldn’t exist! Reduced to this weakling, I await death to come personally to drag me to hell, if there exists one, and yet, the wait is endless…

Am I dead? Can’t be, I am talking…but who is hearing? Someone definitely is…otherwise how would you all know about my personal rumblings? Am I alive? I don’t feel so…I have been hiding from all the world, people who are the off-springs of my own bloodline, in darkness, in shadows, I have been creeping around like the monster I am, watching my people die – in my own hands, some passing with time as well, perishing in bodies, fading in names… Watching changes everywhere, new lives, new faces, all the while I remained as I was. A stone. Harder than granite, I cannot fade. I cannot die. Yet nobody remembers me.

I am a monster, yes, I am. Suffering a fate, I’d myself brought upon me, cursed for all of eternity. I’ve just dragged on…without any family left, no friends either – just time and darkness, who’ve kept me company. But, I’ve had plenty of them. I have spent eons in my wait for the end, but fate doesn’t allow it. I have sinned, I deserve to be damned.

No, I deserve to be damned.

It’s how it’ll always be.

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My Promise.

I’ll always love you.

I’ve always loved you.

And I will always love you.

Others will come into my life, like every morning is new, and we try new things, every other day.

But every night, like I put on a different set of clothes, to sleep away the lonely, tragic hours,

I drink you in like an exotic wine, some magic potion…

that erases every thing and rewinds time back to the day we met.

The day, I traded in my soul to the devil,

That I may remember you as the only man in my life.

And then I remember everything.

Oh, and with love…

Breaking Free

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Had been locked up inside my own mind, as if,

Tied by rusting chainmail to the icy castle of night.

So, didn’t even have to  really struggle, to get out,

My spirit, unbound, just by mere thought, broke free

Like a canon-ball of shiny metal set to blaze,

Just shot out of sight…

 

Dashing past the clouds of mist and ghosts from the past,

Unholy things, those were, by inches, couldn’t touch my light.

Everything burned along the path I trailed in my way,

The purest form of energy, like fire, now flowing through me.

Firmly ridden on the back of the mad, mad wind,

I reach for the haloed sunbeams pouring in thick abundance,

Through distant holes in the wide blue-white sky.

 

My quest for peace, finally sated for a while,

I wait at the gates of heaven, to open up.

I haven’t seen my God, and it’s been quite some time.

Thrill of being Free

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Life is morose and life is dead,

Worries screaming in your head.

With lost hopes and all things worse.

 

From dawn to dusk,

Living and eating norms.

One smile, you wait, you die,

For a touch you’d fight and cry.

The sweet company that you crave,

Until freedom flies you to your nest.

 

Awkward first meetings around family and friends,

A stranger sits, trying to peep through your veil.

Cakes and cookies you never knew to make,

You put forward for your clients to take.

Furniture and cars accompany you to the grave,

In the baleful sound of trumpets you slowly break.

 

Thrill, you want when you step in the door,

Taking a hand and flowers on the floor.

Thrill is what you want all that first night,

Your stranger, for you, might not be right.

By the time morning leaves its shadowy cave,

You’re well into the unhappily married club.

 

There you wish that you were free,

Because there are sickles to your feet.

 

Or the thrill is when,

Zooming through posh streets late at night,

In the back seat of a little perky bike…

The air cool from late spring showers,

You throw your hands up in the air,

And leave the past with all its woes,

Behind.

 

Aged

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The morning light touches me with a twinge of guilt,
When my sunken eyes peer through tear splashed glass.
The night of mighty dust gales had hidden stars from me.
The tempest of last night, has left my courtyard wet,
The rains washed my glasses clean, also the last tears.
Messed my hair, but smoothened out many other things.
The storm has passed now, now that morning’s hit the streets,
The winds, I had learned to tame, have blown me back home.

In Transition

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**NOTE: Read it with empathy.**
Tonight, my hand shakes.
I cannot hold my pen,
Nor can I type.
I cannot write!
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Tonight nothing can help me,
No, I am not drunk, not even a little.
I am not high, and the ones who make me
Aren’t here. Cheers on their divine names.
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I and hypocrisy have a long nemesis,
Tonight I am avenging my cause–
All those nights of tempestuous overtures,
And torments for self containment.
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Hot, prickling, irksome — tears moisten my cursed lashes.
The broken dreams, like glass, jabs mercilessly into my flesh.
When I think and realise, revenges are going nowhere,
When it comes down to those, whose against I stand.
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Love, that once washed inside me, like a flooded river,
Is slowly molding into a separate earth. Of cold stone.
But still in the deeps, love boils and spits, like an ominous volcano.
One passionate quake, and the rocks would all collapse…
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But I cannot lose this war, I cannot!
Cannot let the rocks collapse…cannot let myself hope again.
(As if I can hold back such a phenomenon!)
Because, it’s me, and it’s always been me, I cannot write!
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Untouched. Forsaken, I’ll remain, frozen.
Waiting for my love to die. But also hoping, he’d give in,
And the cracked earth will soak in the tempest,
Slaking the eternal thirst of the dry, scorched rocks.
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Smothering the love…
Dammit, fantasies again!
I cannot write!
I just cannot.

Sunday Morning without my Glasses.

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Through saffron washed shades,

My sleepless eyes peep at the bright Sunday sun.

My familiar green purse with my stock of change,

I set out from home, this Sunday morning,

Without my glasses, my weekday eyes.

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The damp trees all stand, towering over me…

Smug and sated after drizzles for the last few nights…

Like a witch’s prickly hair and pointed hat,

The willowy branches seem to point at me.

Forming black curves against the whipped blue sky.

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Colourful paper squares soar overhead,

Tied to invisible cords spinning from spindles,

Held by unseen hands, all children out of sight…

Hazy lines of gleaming pinballs come rolling down,

The flyover down the road that draws towards town…

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Something special is happening  today–

Some kind of campaign, some race-like procession.

Horse drawn carts racing along with motorbikes;

Car windows shooting out overgrown men,

Scarves tied on the heads, flapping behind.

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Signboards I cannot see, my eyes are not with me.

But logos, and symbols I can make out.

I see the big M of McDonald’s, ’coz that was my destination,

As the hot aroma of butterscotch pancakes hits my sense of smell,

I cannot delay, my empty stomach affirms in a grumbled rebuke.

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Hmph! Again a queue, this straightened out morning!

Probably BPO employees were out now, for dates after shifts,

I fake an accent, to pull the attention to me, a lonely visitor…

Only later did I notice, by far, I do not look anything

But a plain, fat, native, DU student out on a morning stroll.

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A Sausage McMuffin, French fries and coke combined,

I have a decent meal to name on the roll at last.

Cuddling couples stare, I stare back; they don’t know, they’re not my eyes.

Like coins in my purse jingle, their accusing glares bounce right off me–

Never leaving it, like change, just piling up more and more…

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Sadly, now that the morning’s passed,

And without my glasses, I’ll have to return back.

Gems put out on display catches the light–

I look at the shiny jewellery shops as I go,

But no eyes here, to watch them shine.

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It’s broad and harsh daylight now…

And I have to get back home, before,

While crossing the wide road,

I’m trampled by a truck or a van,

I mistook for a shiny silver pinball.