The colorful abyss.

April 20, 2013 § 13 Comments

She enters the crowded room. You
see her lean body covered under
layers of clothes. Clumsily, she
makes some disruption in the otherwise
pre-occupied room. She finds the
closest seat to become a part of
the incognito within the space of
the surrounding room.

You see her frantic eye
scanning the faces around her. Her
eyes meet yours. Unspoken thoughts
make a chapter of a few unrequited
words as the sparks fly.

You offer her an embrace that peels
through every layer of bulky textile
to the delicate small of her quivering
back. It sends a shiver down your spine.

She looks deep into your eyes and
you wish you were the
kohl in her eyes. You crave to touch
her hair and run your bare palms
over silken skin.

You’re lost in your own brazen thoughts
when he walks into the room and
kisses her on the mouth. You notice she’s kissing him back
with her entire body. You sigh.

They walk out of the room together, his
arm around her waist. She drops a
note near your chair.

“You’ve drowned. In the colorful abyss.”, it read.

P.S. This post has been written for Ashwini. You, inspire me, mate. Thank you. 🙂

Untitled- V.

July 21, 2012 § 25 Comments

Huddled around the tiny fire
of my longing
Always wanting to be somewhere
i am not
Loving with an incomprehensible
intensity
Falling in love at the drop
of a hat
Altering each poem a
hundred times
Carefully scanning my life
and the people
Making promises i do not
want to keep
Meeting people just to escape
from myself
Observing everyone and
being observed
Ushering my dreams out of the
window for a while.

I meet you a some festival.
You. With the same dreams,
longings and love.
We either recoil. Or fall in love.
Or both.

We e mail each other. And
one day you stop replying.
Maybe because i have no money
or i dont have a flat stomach
or you’re just bored.
I wouldn’t know.

Or maybe you’re throwing
your dreams out of the
window, too.

Magic.

May 6, 2012 § 17 Comments

The moon is not yet a cellblock
or somewhere to fly to.
On a good night it appears
to be embellished in the clouds like a huge diamond.
On a good night it flings its silver
onto the flung out torn out clothes of darkness.
On a good night it isn’t yellow,
its bright light surviving through the tree leaves that havent been burnt yet.
On a good night it isn’t a spot in the distant sky,
it is hope and love for lovers in some corner of the world.

Just as if nothing is wrong with
the world,
that cannot be mended by love.
Or magic.

No expectations.

May 1, 2012 § 17 Comments

That strange empty feeling
when you’re lying in bed,
staring at the cieling, listening
to a Josh Ritter number.
Trying to find perspective in
darkness, meaning in nothing-
ness, and direction standing
at a dead end.
Not expecting, and not being
expected from.
Hollow and with a void, you
reflect on what life’s been
so far. On how much’ve
you changed, in the process
of resisting change.
The agony of being helpless,
the fear of the unknown,
the love that doesn’t die off.

Yet, no expectations.

There is another poem written by www.arjun1097.wordpress.com which he certainly did not want me to post here. But i am a bad girl, sailor boy!

So here it goes:

Today i’m stuck to my bed
with a fever, cough and cold,
covered in blankets
i feel weary and old.
 
The light seems too bright
and the voices seem louder,
they all crowd around and watch
and i just give em a cold shoulder.
 
They switch on the TV
and tell me to rest,
dont move, be still they say
i think that part’s the best.
 
No expectations
the silver lining,
and it all comes to me
including fine dining.

Virtual.

April 22, 2012 § 12 Comments

I wonder if we met,
would i listen eagerly
while you talk like i
read your words, feel
the same excitement
as i feel for a new post
or an e mail?

Or would i stop listening
to you, and stare at your
hair, gauge the accent
you have, judge you
for each word that comes
out of your mouth?

Would you look me in
the eye and talk, absorb
the words i say, share
that pint with me,
and pour your
heart out as you
do sometimes?

Or would you jump
to conclusions, make
your own assumptions,
push me away on purpose,
order your own beer,
and sound distant?

Maybe there are
somethings about
being “virtual”, which
neither of us understands.

Cried.

January 25, 2012 § 6 Comments

I cried when i left
you. Silent tears,
that hurt my insides.

I cried when i realised
you wouldn’t follow.
Howled, each night.

I cried when you tried
getting back with me.
Tears of guilt.

I cried when i understood
i can live without you.
Dim tears.

But i smiled when
i found out you cried too.

Yes.

January 14, 2012 § 10 Comments

When i was still yours
all the words i whispered
have no meaning now,
they’ve withered and died
like us.

And those words flew away
someone held them in their hands
came to you running
and asked if they can
own your heart.

And you said yes.

Where Am I?

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