September 4, 2013 § 4 Comments
For you and your touch
and those long nights we
deserve to have together.
For all the times you’d run
your fingers into my long,
brown hair. Looking at
me with those love-stung
For all the songs you’ll sing
for me, when i am mad at you.
Coz you shouted at me. Or
i am just PMS-ing.
For all those bottles of wine
we’d drink. To celebrate the
smallest things in life.
For the times you’ll tell
me how much i mean to you,
and how much you love
me. While you mean it.
For the times you’d read poetry
to me in bed. Sufi poetry. And
it’ll give me goosebumps.
For the early morning kiss
and the urge to have more
of each other. For the satin sheets, and the
All of it. Just so that
i can melt in your arms.
March 23, 2013 § 11 Comments
If I give up, things will come right,
so they say.
If I tell you that I have given up on you.
If in response you rush joyfully into the distance.
If I turn my head to hide my tears.
If I walk away, quietly.
If I walk long enough, to a far distant place.
If it doesn’t work and I find I am truly alone.
If I relinquish my ego to the heavens
but they return it back to me.
If the heavens decide I need it in order to do my work.
If I ask ‘Where is the way?’ and look
among the houses to find a Teacher
who’d help me find Way.
If it doesn’t work and the teacher is already
gone to find his own path.
If he only left me a book and it doesn’t
contain the way to the Way.
If it turns out that this is the Way
and I am already on it.
If the Way leads me to a thousand different
houses, and each house has a piece of puzzle.
If once I find a piece, I must move to another house.
If some of the people from the houses follow me.
If I become a teacher, incomplete as I am.
If letting people call me a teacher is a shameful piece of egotism.
If I am always a student, deep down.
If only all the pieces were in one house, I could
sit and build that house
and invite everyone over.
If I built the house anyway, everyone can
bring their pieces.
If I’m not strong enough to build the house, I
can build a room of my own.
If everyone comes and adds to it,
it’d turn into a b’ful room.
If that house is like the house of Wikipedia.
If there are still pieces missing we can make them
ourselves, or just enjoy the puzzle.
If it doesn’t work and the puzzle has an enormous hole in it.
If I get scared and unsure looking at what’ve we done.
If I go back to the road and the search,
away from the people and the hole-d house.
If you would walk beside me, it might be nicer.
If you would walk beside me, each of us might be less lonely.
If you’ve got some of the puzzle pieces, even better.
If you’d give me your pieces, there might be no hole in the house.
If you are walking beside me now, but my ego is blocking my senses.
If you’re talking to me now, and I’m too deaf to hear you.
If you’re looking at me, but I am blinded.
If you’re holding out the pieces, and I don’t take them.
If you want to swap them, for something even more precious I am holding on to.
Photo credits : A Pensive Polaroid.
September 9, 2012 § 40 Comments
So well. It’s been a full year that I started this blog. The journey so far, has been good.
I remember the exact reason why a lazy bum like me took the time out to create an account on a blog-site and post, despite the fact that i had been writing for over ten years.
I have a friend Vipul who used to pester me to start one. I had my CA Final exams in November’11. And like it happens with everyone while they’re studying, I found everything, but my curriculum interesting. So I wrote something for him. And tried to mail it to him. The blasted mail wouldn’t go only! That was enough to irk the already soppy version of me.
The next morning I created an account on WordPress. The blog name was chosen to be Ravenousforlife for a reason. Yeah, another story there! You can *yawwn* now! 😀
In college, this friend once told me that if I were a bird, I’d have been a Raven.
Raven- a bird known for it’s courage. With it’s hoarse cry, a little rough around the edges; but with a very gentle interior.
So this is how it all began. I have a tendency of leaving things midway. I still haven’t given up on blogging. And I won’t, for a while, it seems.
So finally Happy Bird-Day to my blog! I’ve had a wonderful year with all you peeps. And I hope there are many more to come.
Here’s the poem I wrote for Vipul:
P.S. All the Indian readers would know the song I am adding by heart, and the meaning.
For the ones who don’t, here’s what it means:
|I’m a poet only for a second or two;|
|my story will be over in a few seconds.|
|My laughter is only for a moment or two;|
|my youth will be over in a few moments.|
|I’m a poet only for a second or two.|
|Many poets came before me, and after coming, departed;|
|some went filled with sighs,|
|and some went singing songs.|
|They were only the story of a moment in time;|
|I too am only the story of a moment.|
|Tomorrow I will be separated from you,|
|but for today, I’m a part of you.|
|I’m a poet of a moment or two, no more.|
|Tomorrow new songs will arrive,|
|freshly bloomed blossoms to be plucked.|
|There will be better storytellers than me,|
|and better listeners than you.|
|Tomorrow, someone might remember me;|
|but why should anyone remember me?|
|For my sake, why should this busy world|
|waste its time?|
|I’m a poet only for a moment or two.|
August 28, 2012 § 46 Comments
I feel the wings growing
on my back. I want to
fly. Fly away from
here.That thing up there
calls me. It tells me to
soar high. Away.
Down here i wear two masks.
One of love, coloured stripes.
The mask that makes me
fall in love with you each
time you smile. That makes
me feel complete when you’re
around. The other mask: grey.
My grey wings in a grey
sky. The nothingness. And
the dispassion. That pulls
me away from you, and
what we have together.
I stand at the mountain
top, thinking it’s just time.
Time to say good-bye and
fly away. To nowhere and
everywhere. To grey skies.
But then i look at you
and the love in your
eyes. You call out my name
in that voice that melts
my heart away.
‘Love’, you say, ‘come here.’
I curl up my wings and
sit on the ground, weeping.
How could i think there
was a place away from here?
You are where i belong,
where i want to be. I crawl
back, into those arms
that only want to hold me.
‘Love isn’t a cage or a
leash or a chain. It is, perhaps,
a flexible cord. Trust it, nurture
it, and don’t pull away. It will
help us both fly. Separately, yet
deeply connected.’, you tell
me. With love in those
eyes, that makes me skip
And i realise this is home.
August 17, 2012 § 20 Comments
He was her favourite coin.
The world thought its rusty and
old and unworthy.
But she carried it everywhere
she went. Just touching it made
her feel beautiful and relieved her pain.
She’d kiss it and come back to
Until one day she had to give it up
in exchange of a few seconds of breath
to live more, to this fucked world
that lies awake every night on the