OUT OF EXILE...

A soulful search along the shores of my memory
For the core of what made me...
The waves that lashed over me to recede away from something new
each time...
The winds that blew past me
and changed her course from the cold
each time...
Feet burying into soft wet sand
sinking into footprints that live a second
each time...
My skirt is damp sticking to my thighs
The skin tingles in the cold...
shivers as the chillness
hangs around me like an icy cloak ... moulding what is me.
The waves come and go...
with a new thought in my head.
a new shred of a new self...
slipping into place
effortlessly
like it was always there
embedded under my skin
unmindful of its birth, its origin

I change
but eyes can't tell
how or when.

I change
unaware to the self.

I
am always a new me.

M.I.S.S

I don't have a safety pin....
I miss you then
I need a second opinion...
I miss you then
What earrings do I wear with these...?
I miss you then
Need a partner for the movies....
I miss you then
Feel like having my favourite sambaar....
I miss you then
Couldn't tell you what I felt like at 4 a.m
I missed you then

From the C to the D

Walking in the rain
Picking flowers in the morning
Screaming down the road on a bullet
Steel Helmet
Sitting on freshly cut grass
Eating samosas and sipping lime juice
Padded up to play some cricket
Fete and festivals
Chats and chaats in our corner
The magic show and the star
The knives and the black T-shirt
The mime and the mystery
Coming in.. You sleeping... Going out.. You still sleeping
Spicy dosas in the middle of the night
Some parties and some music... some...
Mahabs and more....
Straight out and not quite
The empty halls
Sister Hilda... Ha ha ha ha ha
From C to D........
It's been long...... Yes.... long.....

The Jar is Gone

The sun
The moon
The star
The drop
The heart even
The blob
The steel-blue green silver white black
I don't see the jar on that desk anymore
Holding all that I said and had seen

......

disappointed
disappointed
disappointed
confused confused confused....
don't like life that way

A river of flowers meandering down the road
... and I know a funeral march had come this way
Splatter of sugar and a rocking hand
... and I know the wails will subside...

?

waiting at the corner.
bhel puri. pani puri. kachori. samosa.
the smells of chat...
santro. or was it matiz?
long drives down the flyover, U-turns
up the flyover. and back around
soft songs. music in the car.
flowing through me...
long drives and long conversations.

Getting old...

waiting across the road.
taking books, notes... act anagram...
miming a strange language
trying to guess what the other is trying to show
are we always miming instead of talking?
really talking...

Diwali

i love gulab jamuns.
always did
a ride in the car with the taste of rose buds on my tongue...
and something else...
crimson velvet seats
at the ice-cream parlour
near my place
butterscotch and chocolate?

Text nothings...

or were they?
hours of pondering and fighting
over this and that
here and there...
professor sarcasm perched right above us
very happy with the progress we both had made.

Graduated with honours..

Last day...

he jokes about the name
i do not find it funny
always talking about 'us'...
about something that isn't there...
pictures being taken...
digital memories... only.


No more.

*punches in the last key. clicks 'publish post'*

Untitiled 2

1

It was a blue.
Dark and rich. With 2 streaks of red and gold.
Running across the surface.
Just above the head.
A 2-inch gap between the red and the gold.
The thick coloured threads
neatly woven.
Moving in and out. In and out. In and out.
Neatly. In order. Arranged. Correct. Almost perfect.
A thin strip at the back of the head.
Knotted. Tight.
Not loose.
To fit the head. Correctly. Almost perfectly.
It is complete with the shade. Yes the shade.
At the front.
With an embellishment of a pawn in red.
The pawn in red. Red? Why red?
Pawn in red.
Pawn.
The red pawn, crested on the blue shade.
Yes. The shade.
Shielding the eyes.
Sheltering. Blocking. Screening.
I try to look up.
To see and stare.
To see.
But the shade. Almost guarding. Almost.



2

I remove the cap from my head.
Take it off. Get rid of it.
The shade the strap the red the gold the blu the strips......


And see.

not today.
the thoughts again
the serious tumult of things
blacking out the vision of my wants
seamlessly flowing, like
a rippling rage.
confusion
that word again
striking out, echoing.
three stumps in lush green fields.
me sitting in the stands
against the winds
watching.
i pull the cap
down on my forehead
closing my eyes to the sun... and the sun
i can't think anymore
pause. stop. halt.
freeze.

1:43pm and counting.

Untitled

The bed beckoning me. Callin me.
My eyes tempting to shut.
Only for a minute
if it may so. Rest. Sleep. But
hours lie ahead. Like a never-ending road.


Stretching below me. Like a lazy cat.
Smirking. Hands straining
against blocks of letters.
Type. Type. Type. Type. Error.
A frown. Seconds wear on to minutes...

to hours...to days... to frames....
to stills... to shots...
The road smirks,
suppressing a snigger.
The eyes strain against the monitor.


Straining to read. To correct. To look
through the eyes of the other.
To adjust. To capture.
To take. To store. Write.
Talk. Read. Script. Re-write. Converse.


Record.


The magic is in the eyes. Seeing.
Touching. Feeling.
Remembering.
Reams of memories. Spools of
dreams. Tapes of moments. Tiresome.


Yet...


The cat smirks again knowigly. Twirling its tail. Knowingly.