Belonging

You came searching for this
poem that would create
such a catastrophe, but more
of beauty - blooming out of it
like the rain in the poem
that you found by your window. Where


every mood is a allegory
to our moments, you came to
me wrapped in gold with a wreath
of Frangipanis in your hair, like the night
with the blurry Moon in your eyes
like sadness inside a memory
but more like joy in my heart
you came to me like the rain comes
wild and soft, humming a melody
like a Myna, like an eternal song
lilting on my lips.

Summer Rain

And Suddenly this Summer Rain
burns my lips.
Brings back the memory
of your lips.

Fire.

How i long for fire
of our sweet desire
That was burning through us
Oh our funeral pyre

So let's burn desire
And rise up higher.

Extra Sensory Perception

I can hear frogs 
croak miles away, in a city
by the bay. Feel the gust

of your sighs. Taste
the skies darkening. I know
you are painting
the clouds with your hair

open, plotting their fall

Saturday Sundowner - Tears

Tears are not a sign of weakness. They are all about acceptance, the bursting knowledge that pain is here to stay, so is sadness and all the swallows (of life) like joy. They are rivers of nonconformity; to the idea of illusionary happiness, shame, the idea that life is to be always happy amidst the tattle of everyday exigencies & a race towards pretense.

Tears are a rebellion against this very idea of utopia. Tears break this mirage, and help us let us be who we are beneath, take us towards feeling, towards peace.

We cry not because we are broken, but to mend. Crying a sign of strength, of how we make sense of loss, joy and this ephemeral life. All the mountains, rivers, trees cry - cry when the seasons change, when the flowers don't bloom, when rivers go dry, they go through these seasons - though we can’t see, but they quietly cry.

Crying is like praying, our private communion with god. We cry sometimes alone and at times with someone who knows our sadness like no one else can. And a moment like this gets etched in to the cosmos like a twinkling star.

It is an act of forgiveness. Forgiving yourself and the whole universe – an act of cleansing the soul, and soothing the heart

Tears open us up to the promise of another spring, they give us the belief that we will be alright, and tears are the proof that we are alive.

PS: Rain has just hit the city, but not quite yet, as i write this. Season of tears for heavens i guess..!!

The Hunger River

There's a river that flows

Between you and me

And the river it bends right

Into the sea

All the words that we spoke

Become seafoam

Buried in the sand 

No one else could read

River

The Hungry river

There's a river

A Hungry river

And all the little fish

That live inside the sea

Know all the secrets we share

Talk about you and me

The stars that shine

Are our eyes in the dark

When the river turns blind

As it tries to break free

River

The Hungry river

There's a river

A Hungry river..

Breathe......

Dreamers

There's no beginning
And there is no ending
For the love that reins
In our hearts

At times it is broken
Sometimes it's mending
We are together
Although we are far

Cause we are lovers
We are dreamers
And there's a river
That flows within us

When silent desires
Take shape of shadows
We strain darkness
of the night with our eyes

And there's no defeat
In the way that we're loving
We are two broken pieces
of a single star

Cause we are lovers
We are dreamers
And there's this river
That flows between us...

Sleepwalking

Are you talking to yourself
In your dream
Or are you walking half awake
In your sleep
Do you wake up every morning
All alone

Now I am wonder where you are
And I am wonder what you do
You are a star who’s shining bright
Though the Sun is shining through
Though pretences never cease
Never put your mind at peace
They are always troubling you

Are you walking all alone
On the street
With no place left to go
You retreat
Do you sit there on a ledge
With your phone

Are wondering what to do
With the thoughts that are in your head
Do the words they pass you by
All the words that I’ve said
The distances never cease
Never put your heart at peace
They are always trawling you

Sleepwalking through...
Sleepwalking through....
Sleepwalking with you.....

What I feel for you

What i feel for you
Is what the sky feels for the sun
Even if it singes
But who else could
Paint the sky such shades of gold
Light it up with such desire

Absences

The yellow Sun you left behind
has turned crimson. Now i make love
to your absences. I scourge the wind
cause it doesn't bring your
Words to me. And your voice
is an absence, not even an echo.

The moon has come to my rescue
the same moon that climbed up
over Devlali, lighting our path
on the way to the river which
flowed behind our house
that night is an absence
Now i am left with moontide.

And i drown in these absences
Like darkness of the night
Which can only hold light
Just enough to see.Those stars
are all absent, the same stars
That lit up Pondicherry that night
In your embrace is absent.

Same city which was called
another name.
Another city with two names
Those cities are lost
Absent like you and me.

Untitiled

I write a poem to send you
Look how they pile up
on my bed. Each one for a day
I have not whispered 'I love you'
over the phone. My voice now

drowned in the din
of the ceaseless rain outside.

The Train to Nowhere

 One word for her – Ethereal

One word for him – Melancholy

They meet on the train to Nowhere. Melancholy asks ‘Where are you from Ethereal? She says, ‘from out of this world’. ‘And what about you Melancholy?’ he replies, ‘from a place halfway between joy and sorrow.’

They cast silent gazes on each other and nod.

What do you do? Melancholy asks Ethereal, ‘I fill up white spaces. I write, she says.  ‘And I suppose you are a poet’ with a wry inquisitive smile, she prods him.

‘But, how do you know. We’ve never met before, I can’t remem...’ ‘We know our names, don’t we? And don’t trust memory, it’s full of deceit’ interjects Ethereal.

Melancholy shifts his gaze out of the window, framing the world passing him by with a rhythmic strut of the eyelashes; storing memories for another time. Ethereal follows suit.

As the light fades, their eyes start to light up like those of Jaguars in the wild, untamed.

It’s almost twilight; he resembles a Zen master, some sort of sorcerer from another world. And she a sea which comes to a still after centuries of yearning, consumed in this moment, like it was all that she ever wanted.

Their gaze is stoic now, unlike the train, which is slowly gathering speed, chugging, bellowing, and cutting the wind in the tunnels into jagged wails of longing.

Soon her eyes turn to his long slender fingers, streaming out of his palm which lay on top of the other, snug on his thighs. Her swan-like white fingers are drawn to his, aching to rest, dance the unfinished dance.

She swiftly makes her move, gliding over to his side - a veil of warm air separating them. He could feel her pulsing presence next to him. The wrinkles on his face vanish with the constant stream of cold air ringing through the window.

Her breath grows louder, bit by bit, drowning the whir of the wind, and her lips brim with auras like a mythical star. She draws closer to him, sliding her fingers into his, catching a glimpse of the lines on his palm. Her memory forgets.

Then suddenly his eyes twirl and he wantonly turns his face. And just when his eyes lock into hers; it’s static, and they burst into flames. 

Leaving behind only laughter; Melancholic and Ethereal

The train keeps chugging along to Nowhere...

Ritual of Love

You go on inventing myth
And I play along like a fool
You Orange crested like the Sun
Brimming at the horizon
Pull me deep with the waves
Into the belly of the ocean
There's a secret place
Continent of Indigo swirls
Celebration..!!
Of the Pastoral world

You ask me, ''Partake this ritual"
You ask me, ''Partake this ritual"

of Love.

Carry you with me ( A song...)

I carry you with me

Like I carry the river in my tears

Like a solemn song on my lips

You are always near

I carry you with me

I carry you with me

I carry you with me

You never left me

See the sky is still unclear

Our shadows grow tall as mountains

With each passing year

I carry you with me

I carry you with me

I carry you with me

Randomness

This world exists on randomness, sheer randomness. Most of the beautiful things that happen in life are  random, and when you think through, you wonder if there is a design at play behind this chaos and all  such  random things.

We are born out of randomness and we die the same. We can’t choose to whom and where we are born, it’s a matter of chance.

Most of the times we don’t do things consciously or things just happen by themselves. Like falling in love, we cannot predict how and when it will happen, or capturing a moment on camera by releasing the shutter, or say, a poem – it can hit you anytime.

If so much of our lives revolve around randomness, how are we in control of our lives; where it is heading, what we make of it?

Randomness is like disguised potential, it’s like germination of a seed.The seed get sowed but it needs sunlight, water and sustenance to flourish into a tree. It’s all about that, about what you do with this randomness; this fleeting moment, this possibility.

Why Continents Collide.

Our bodies are two continents severed by time

moving slowly towards each other;

the oceans between us sinking, the trenches

getting deeper. The landscape of our skin

shudders with this approaching.

Mountains forge and veins converge

like rivers charting a new course.

A current runs through the rough

churning out relics, insignias of distinction

blur – even a catastrophe is beautiful.

It will be long after dusk and dawn 

cast their uneven light , a new continent forms

a million years it maybe, to discern how

we fit like a jigsaw puzzle – this longing.

Quotidian

How this year is different from that

year was like the last year and the

last one was same as one gone by.

Days seem the same and the sun

the moon and the stars like the same

and our lives are filled with the same days.

And the months like all the seasons the same

like rivers and seas and the oceans

are the same the fish and the birds

and the trees are the same old

like you and me, the same

heart it beats the same way.

To Silence and everything in between.

When was the last time we travelled

to nowhere, to silence

without a word been spoken.

Forming an ellipse

of imaginary incantation

And we formed arches

like branches longing for

Sun under glum grey skies

the last time we conceived

a notion

deceived emotion

Measured silences shining through

empty wine glasses. Caught

refractions of words floating

in a mist of sea spray

by our tongues. Talked about

our feet, how mine are hollow

yours more flatter and how that

makes you more grounded

me afloat

Last time we didn’t

hoard passion

it felt electric blue

we gathered moon-dust from our

eyes mumbling, “there’s a bit of moon

in all of us, and if it stays too long

it takes the colour of rust”

We cried like a child and felt happy

about really being sad. And sad

about how fleeting happiness is

Last time

I became the river you the sea

stood at our edges

and formed an estuary

touched

our bodies like it’s

for the very first time. Climbed

mountains of clouds

stacked up in the sky

got so high. we tripped

in to a daze

Wondered

at the expanse of the ocean and

how easy it is to drown

then stay afloat

collided like two galaxies;

me Andromeda you

the milky way and left

a trail of stars

of light and matter

and heat and words

we didn't say

slipped back

into our silences

nodded our heads

and fell asleep.

Untitled...

I carve the days

Out of the Sun.

My eyes gleam.

I hack the nights

Out of the Moon.

My heart cools

I squeeze all the rain

out of June.

I drink

Your memory.

I choke.

I die.

This is how

I live.

Aeroplanes in our Mind

An inscrutable buzz envelopes the mist

as planes descend and leave this city

It's almost the last week of December

People talk in loud shrilly voices

Another new year approaching

Another reason to be happy

I savor the warmth of the sun on my scruff

And I think about those winters

When we stood in huddles

warming up the air with our banter

Forgetting, it's almost the end of another year

But that was then, now

maybe you too are tuned into the buzz 

of planes against a misty sky

Listening to loud shrilly voices

of hope taking flight

Maybe this new year could

just be the reason to be happy

Who knows.