Tranquil Sedation

What did you think when you told me, this was over?
Incessant quarrels to give us reasons forever…
Seasons of change seem to fool me! Hopeless desires.
Locked inside tranquil sedation. Gray and somber.


Give me, space to breathe.
Inside of me, make me free.
Love me, talk to me.
Make up some reasons, to be with me.


How many times have people said this to themselves?
Be beaten and also abandoned! Lonesome survivors.
Seeking the seamless treasons, that life leaves us.
Or blaming the loss and losers, for all their wises.


I will break free
Right now and be, the change to see.
Hear me, Fear me
Make up your mind n see through me.


Disclaimer: for those of you who wanna conclude that this post is about a 'guy-girl' relationship. It isn't! Think outside the box! :)

Take Away My Pain

spread the message. save a life.


Tell me my mother
Why couldn’t you see?
For night after night,
I cried my plea.


He walked into my room,
Uninvited. Unseen.
Like shadows of yore,
And acted so mean.


I didn’t like it, dear mother,
I never liked playing that game.
That trouble, the trauma
God! What was its name?


I died every night,
And was born the next day.
A phoenix of sorts,
With scars that stay.


Tell me my mother
Why couldn’t you see?
For night after night,
I cried my plea.


Take me with you
Take away my pain
I’d rather be alone,
And watch memories remain.

---------------------------------------

Picture Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kamisyed/598090994/

Also Visit: http://www.tulircphcsa.org/

Subtle Reminders

He had the habit of leaving me small notes and I used to love them. A familiar handwriting, the smell of scented paper, words of warmth and his voice through that.

The comfort that the heart yearned for, while my fingers ran through the half empty bed and beneath the pillow covers to reach the note.

Only this time, it was different.

The words conveyed what my ears refused to hear. The paper smelt like another woman and shimmered with shades of her mascara.

“Will be late”, it read.

I heard his voice and her smile.

I wished that the habit had left with him.

Objects in the rear view mirror do appear closer than they are.

You only miss that which is no more. Don you?

First Times

It was the first time she had pushed aside the feeling of may-be-it-is wrong. It was the first time, she was afraid that he would hear her heart screaming. The first time when lying was tough. The first time, she felt love.

She dressed so carefully hoping he would notice and rehearsed her coy smile a million times in front of the mirror. It was the only time; she chose jasmine over roses, and yellow over pink. She did her eyes, and then her hair and carefully pulled out a strand from the side. It dangled and danced as she glanced sideways at the mirror checking all along to see if the pallu was in place.

She had favorites that changed every two minutes. He was probably the only exception.

I sat at a distance watching both of them. Of course, I was the one who had listened to her stories until then. But this time we walked a path of silence. Only she kept interrupting with giggles and hurried steps that upset the rhythm our anklets maintained.

Actually, I knew both of them equally well. Both, who had told me everything but this. Love, I thought to myself.

They spoke through the night. But the night remained young. He held her hand and clutched it tight. Her head locked position on his shoulder. And I sat plucking my lower lip waiting for them to say goodbye.

He did and we left. That was the last train out of the village.

Her first time without him.

Elastic Hearts.

One of the most serious consequences of being more than just friends is its irreversibility.

Life,

Is crossing over.

Faith,

Waits to meet me there.

Unwind

Take me higher,
Make me fall.
Tricky desires,
Standing tall.

Turn around,
Look inside.
For nothing’s wrong
and no one’s right.

Blue Shoes

I usually shrug off pleasant memories. Else they would mean too much. But this one refused to be.
Shrugged off, I mean.

* * * *

It was exactly like that 2 minute dream before the waking second. It grew, frame by frame.. it melted, it smiled and winked at me as I lived through it. Waking life, I call it.

There were rehearsals that ran in lengths of many days and endless nights. I remember those blue shoes too. They seemed to suit me well. Pretty silver ribbons to ballet with my lady like blue skirt, red roses, and good luck wishes.

And the fall! How can I forget the fall? Gracefully, in slow motion – like it would be my last and like I can’t fall any lower. More perfect than all my rehearsals. And then the freeze…

Like in a trance, the rest of the cast swirls in circles and leaps, while my eyes search through the space to fill the void that could kill me. That is the moment. The split second when the spots are on you. Of applause, of fame, of smiles and crystal drops of tears.

My twelve year struggle understood me.

Fragile Dreams.

"I worry, I weigh three times my body
I worry, I throw my fear around
But this morning, there's a calm I can't explain
The rock candy's melted, only diamonds now remain”

- John Mayer found Clarity, perhaps. I hadnt.

The words echoed in an infinite loop. Thoughts pressing hard against my skull, I feel pain. Images have that in them, the ability to bring to life, situations or emotions that words don’t do justice to.

A family portrait? A roller coaster? Dad in it? A kid in him? Strawberries, the moon, my first bicycle, car keys, the last moments before a new life, so much more. Sometimes you hope to get used to life. Many times we live that life just hoping to cope with it. May be I belonged to the second category.

Stuck in time, fearing the void that’s swarming all around, tearing away from that helpless feeling I turn towards the window, and watch the glass sink inside.

I see a kid balancing an act on its bike, the dad running right behind.

I see myself nod as I say “there are some things money can’t buy”. Life smiles back at me. Peace.

for one more Minute

She has been waiting a whole hour to get there. Those secrets unable to travel the distance, waiting and staring at oblivion. All she wants is that one minute with him. So close, so near.

When their shadows will overlap.
When they are two souls in one.
When she can whisper into him, how she yearns to unite.

I saw them that night; So near, yet so far. With secrets untold, and hands that never met. Like lovers from epics, like dreams that feared dawn; they remained distant. Forever frozen with fear.

Lucid Dreams

I lay awake. I stay still.
I witness the purple sky whistle past in silence.
The scent of paper flowers and the sound of silence add to the inertness of life around.
I lie inside myself for endless hours.
I run, I fall, I scream, I drown.
I dream, with eyes wide shut of the story where I lay awake.

A broken vase. Withered Flowers.

Little hope, small wishes, eager eyes and a dirty doll to cling onto; that was all she had with her. She smelt dust, and could see very little. She could hear faint noises of people screaming and the sound of machines and tough men. She couldn’t tell if it was night or day. She tried hard to recall, her thoughts refused to spin past the last mug of milk that she drank the previous night. She remembered she wore a pretty pink frock, but she could hardly recognize it anymore. It looked more of black with patches of visible pink.

* * *

Closing her eyes, she went back to her tidy room.

The curtains, the breeze, the warmth of her bedspread and the small streak of light from her table lamp seemed to bring back hope. She hugged her soft toy close and cuddled herself to a comfortable curve. Smiling at her dreams she left the world of reality.

* * *

‘Aargh’ She screamed out. Something scratched her back hard and suddenly there was blinding light. She could hear clearly, she smelt some fresh air, she understood very little. There were mobs of men, women and children speaking simultaneously. There was nothing but chaos all around. She was helped out of those layers of debris.

Holding tight to the doll on her left, she tugged at the man who held her by her lil finger. ‘Where is my mother?’, she asked him.

Little hope, small wishes, eager eyes and a dirty doll to cling onto; that was all she had with her.

* * *