Memories

I climb up the mountain of life,
Dragging with me a bag of dysfunctional relationships,
With no consolation of exclusive memories
to keep me company through the miserable nights... .

The sadness of stories

Deep in the abysses of memory,
Fragments of stories lay mute.
Characters and episodes,
Flung about the chasms as if caught in a storm.

The conscious,
The sub-conscious,
The unconscious -

The memories,
The thoughts,
The fantasies -

A hash of all this
Breeds the storm.

If every second were weighed down so,
the times would never be happy.

But why,
Why the hell,
Do I take the hash to be so depressive?

It might be gleeful,
memorable,
savourable,
favourable,
anything.

Prayers get answered only if you pray hard enough.

When the body takes over

I stand in awe as my body lies in another's arms,
I watch in wonder how it rests in another's curves.

There ws a dream once,
Of a firm shoulder and a warm breast,
But like everything else,
Dreams shifted in their place.

Like the tree that welcomes four seasons
And the river that carries new memories every day,
My body embraces fresh smells and skins,
Shedding them like snake-moults every night.

It delights in the contractions of lust,
Unabashed, it screams in joy at each hurt.
It becomes a saint for the day and the whore of the night,
It laughs at the moral farce and flirts with carnal desires.
It challenges the heart, beats the logic of the mind,
And like wanton breeze,
Slides through faces and deep-seated drives.

All the while, I stand in lost thoughts,
Unknowing whether to admire or despair.
When my body walks ahead of me,
What can I do but follow it lamely?

And yet, we come together for a while,
Before the nightfall, before the taste of sweat n blood prevails:
She tells me that she loves me,
And I say, so do I.

One comforting hug, and we fall apart,
But I know her feelings well,
And she knows mine.

Journey of a poem - a poet's ramblings

I
It flowed from a pen like tears down the cheeks.
It came from the heart,
It rose in the mind.

Words and images,
Metaphors and metonymy –
The mind wrote a tribute to the emotions,
The heart sang a hymn to the thoughts.

A poem took shape,
Young and beautiful,
Carrying the burdens of a soul
Captured in the prison of a body.

II
It wafted away from the soul,
Gained various forms,
Made friends,
Gathered enemies,
Bantered with some and chided others,
Became one with another,
And playfully slid away from more….

Like the wanton cupid it struck hearts,
Like the impish Satan it defiled the minds,
Like the glorious angel it comforted some,
Like the morning mist it touched many lives.

The little poem cuddled
On a sheet of white paper,
A leaf of a book,
A page on a blog,
A pane on a website,
A scribbling on a note,
A memory in a bosom…

III
No name, no face,
No credo, no race,
It came to you
And it came to me;
It became mine
And it became yours;

And in that one poem the world found
A relation beyond boundaries.

All I want is to be held,
Held in a long warm embrace;
An embrace that hides all tears,
An embrace that clears all fears.

A hand to hold on to,
A shoulder to lean on to,
A life to sustain,
A breath to maintain,
A pleasure to return to.

I smile at the winds,
Chide the nasty sun,
Pet the restless dog,
And clean the ceiling and floor -
All as I wait to be held.

Carnal delights

A breeze of calm
surrounds me.

Where am I,
What am I?
and why?
The existential questions dissolve into thin air and waft off.

The thoughts
of those rotten love affairs
and grotesque career dreams
Take shape and break up.

Culinary delights,
Pampering,
and sleep are all I know now.

The smells of chicken fry
and coconut oil,
The taste of payasam
and crispy pappadums,
Take me away with them.

My senses are chasing
A lap of comfort,
A shoulder to lean on,
And some lullabies.
Carnal delights are all I need now.

Let the thoughts and dreams
of arrogant rationality
Suffocate themselves in the overbearing mind.
Let them die the brutal death of repression.

And when their ghosts come fleeting by in dreams,
I shall scream out in delight,
My carnal delight.

Rabba…

Tired and loveless
Is not what I want to feel.

I thought I was stronger,
I could stand a little longer,
But the feet give away,
And the heart takes time to heal.

I walk the lonely shores,
As the fishermen wind up their chores,
The sun sets in the horizon,
And the world seems all right.

But my mind is a flood of thoughts,
Like a basin full of clanging pans and pots,
And I hate being so ruffled
Over what I thought I conquered.

Nothing saps the brain more
Than loneliness after a phase of cheer.
A Bollywood song runs in my mind,
"Aaye jo koi to kabhi jaye na rabba",
And when I look up at Him,
He seems to be hiding in the dark clouds.

Random

I thought I should write
Of boardrooms and fright;
Of bleeding hearts as ever,
Or people's repartees so clever.

But all I can think now
Is of that fluttering glow;
A thought as sad as me,
An emotion that wants to be free.

The fact that I could be a loser,
A foreboding of a tragic fate;
A beggar, not a chooser,
A matter of eternal debate.

A giving heart, a hoping heart,
A burdened heart, an eager heart;
And a little brains to know
That you're not always meant to be so.

Time is the best healer,
And I need lots of it,
A sense that all's not ended,
And there's a way around the bend...

Healing

Blisters of a rotten love
Pierce the skin,
Shear through the heart.

I lie,
Sick and tired,
Waiting for the pain to fade away
Under an aceclofenac's influence.

A certain numbness saves the heart
From shedding a lava of pain
Through the eyes.

The wounds will heal, no doubt,
The pain will subside quite fast too.

But a scar will remain
Deep in that area,
Where I saved your memories and worshipped them.

I shall make sure you don't see it,
Because I know it pains you too.

While I try to move on,
Away from the dreams we shared,
and the hopes I cultured,
You shall be getting used to a new life.

My love,
Remember me in those dark dreams
that you're scared to share with anyone.
Keep me in those secrets you would only whisper to yourself.
I shall find my solace in them.

Move on

I loved once, I loved often,
but never so deep as now;
And then I lose him to the winds,
so I look for love again...

The sands on the shore never dry,
The river never seems to cry;
I talk to them and they tell me,
Some emotions are expressed in vain.

If life is all about moving on,
Why should I stay and mourn?
A phase ends and starts again,
And your life's no blemish, no stain.

Expressions

The letters curved themselves
upon the blank white paper
and went to sleep.

Time froze upon the layers
of dust on the old table.

Wind was trapped in the leaves
of the fan.

Some thoughts ran wildly
from the tip of the pen,
Piercing through the calm
of the closed books.

A voice demanded to be heard,
A face wanted recognition.

Everyone - smug, trapped or awakened,
Strives to earn their place.

Come, join the rank.

To do: Separation

The depth of pain,
unmeasured,
falls short of your expectations.

Life's colour is lost,
and you still search for shades.

One change tore me apart,
and your 'to-do' list is long.

I stood on the river bank,
Too lost for words,
Longing for a ride across.

A wish evaporated from my body
And touched the skies.

As if in assurance,
A drop of rain fell on my cheeks -
And I opened my eyes,
To be engulfed in a downpour.

Drenched throughout,
I sought a shelter.
Under every tree and in every house,
I thought I saw you,
arms outstretched.

I closed my eyes again,
and the Sun came high up.
He embraced my curves lustily,
and I closed my eyes,
as he warmed up each pore on my skin.

In the blindness of shut eyes,
I saw your face again.
That smile of affection,
Those naughty eyes,
The gentle blush of perfection.

I walked away,
down the dirty tarred roads
Along rows of shabby houses
with screaming infants
and peeing toddlers.

I clutched my bag in fear,
I quickened my steps.

Was someone following me?

It was your face again,
Hopeful,
Smiling,
Your hands clutching that 'to-do' list.

I strive to blot you out.
I scream out in pain.
I faint.

In the recesses of the subconscious,
I've buried you.
And you chase my conscious every moment.
Repression fails,
and my soul almost scorches itself.

Darling,
do not try to separate you from me.

Crumbling

The soul,
Shredded,
Fell apart from me.
I stood,
Staring,
Helpless as it scattered away.

The wind was strong,
My will all gone,
And the soul
Too light to hold on.

My body,
like an ancient ruin,
Stood soul-less and grave.
I watched,
as I withered away
and crumbled into oblivion.

Another leaf
from the giant Banyan
Succumbed.

Worship

I.
My body is a temple
You are my idol.

My soul, an offering at your feet.

I welcome your worshippers
with divine charity;
I elevate myself through your service.

The unspoken and the unspeakable
Cloud my life.
I offer everything unto you.

They touch me,
Grope around my curves,
Squeeze my flesh lustily.

They worship you,
and hungrily devour me - your prasada.

They melt in me,
And I, in you.

Take me higher,
show me my Paramatman.

II. (May 19, 2010)
Men offer their prayers at my shrine
And move on, not thine nor mine;
They wash their faces in my tears,
Their lips speak all my fears,
Their prayers tainted by lust,
They mutter and mumble and lazily chant.

I wonder at their farce,
I cringe as they touch me -
their vulgar fingers coated with greed,
I laugh that I am their deity
I cry about all lack of piety.

A little temple, a little idol,
A little unknown and yet sought after,
I seek those days of total anonymity
I wish I had a mortal death, a bout of insanity.

Letting go

To think it love was foolishness.

I knew the signs –
Restlessness, elation, the moods.

The nature was bounteous,
The days all bright,
And God the most beloved.
My smile was the best,
Our bodies were in insatiable thirst,
And making love was nothing lustful.

We were made for each other,
and fate had brought us together for a reason.

What could be better than being in your arms, my love!

But nothing lasts forever.

Like the smoke of hashish in the air,
Or the echo of a sparrow's chirp,
All beautiful things perish.

Our love was beautiful too,
Beautiful while it lasted...

An old song would call you heartless
And me unfaithful.
But we knew the depths of our love,
The blind comfort of warm bodies.

I don't want to be mentioned in the annals of relationships
Like Romeo-Juliet, Troilus-Cressida, or Heer-Ranjha.
I don't want to be praised for sacrifice in any poems.
I don't want to be cited as examples in school textbooks.
I know you don't too.

Colours of the rainbow fade away,
A hair strand once broken cannot be fixed,
A soured love is lost forever...

Chipped nails grow,
And so shall we move on.

But I hope,
My memories remain in your heart
like the words of the song we composed together.

The melody of our breaths
echoing against our skin,
The silent moans we shared;
The graze of our skins,
The smell of whisky in your mouth as we kissed last.

The parting sigh is still on my lips.
The words stuck in my throat.
Sweat down my chin
wetting your shirt.

We still don't want to let go,
maybe,
But have no courage to say so.

Things on my mind

A strange wind blows my way -
Of melancholy, inertia and dismay.

I want to cheer up,
I want to be bright,
But an ennui stains all the delight.

The tales all ended in hope,
The dreams were all colourful;
But I wonder why, like the rainbow,
They always disappeared so soon...

No.
The images are too cliched
to be woven into a poem.

I wanted to be different.

To glide in the winds and not fly,
To flow through the ground and not run,
To melt in the rains and not play...

But now,
The limbs have dried up,
The brain has dehydratred,
The heart has coagulated.

Like sheets of rain,
I just fall on and off...
Flowing down the tarred roads
and into gutters...

Smiles become mere memories
for a page in an autobiography.

A word of affection,
A touch of assurance -
I die for them every moment.

No.
I cannot ask for more,
I am guilty of greed.
But still I crave...

I pass my time looking at Ravi Varma pictures,
Reading Shakespeare,
And aiming at stars.
I look out of windows, thirsty for a chirping finch,
And think of whether stars are aspirable.

But a lizard clicking above the kitchen light
Brings me back to the ground.
The rotis are burnt to cinders, and I am hungry.

I go back to the dreams, inertia, and strangeness.
I go back to my world.

Dirge to the chemicals

They slipped, fell, declined, dropped, plummeted and tumbled;
And then rose, went up, climbed, jumped, and soared.
They saw downtrends and uptrends, fluctuations and mixed fortunes;
With trades finalised, disrupted, or simply ended in stalemate.

Those industries - petrochemicals, plastics or aromatics,
Survived the frustrating global recession cycles.
Prices, supply and demand - they were troubled;
Sometimes they sank or otherwise they doubled.

Week after week, month after month,
CBI China wrote and PA Mangalore polished them;
Month after month, time and again,
Vanessa and co. sent feedbacks and pruned them.

And now, some of these petchem friends,
Are leaving us, with no one to buy them.
Is it our fault you're going, dears?
Or is it destiny tearing us apart?

Adieu to you, O Acrylonitrile,
Adieu to Acrylic acid and esters,
Bye-bye dear Toluene di-isocynate,
Bye-bye my Epichlorohydrin!

The soul is in tatters now.
It used to be the heart,
But the wounds have relocated,
because the heart no longer exists.
Rationality has overtaken.
How else do I explain this stoicity?

Aham brahmasmi

I walk in the shadows of dreams,
I look at the reflections of mirages,
I feel the breeze of distant storms,
I speak the unknown thoughts.

Like the currents of rivers, I flow,
Like a rhapsodist's passion, I grow,
Like the chirp of a bird, I resound,
Like a thundering cloud, I pour.

I am every man's desire,
Every woman's ideal soul;
I amuse every child around,
All humans wonder about me.

I grow,
I create,
I touch,
I move,
I think,
I love,
I choose,
I destroy.

Aham brahmasmi. (I am the Supreme power)

If...

If liquor could cry
it'd have joined me;

If waves had voice,
they'd have screamed with me.

I'm one with nature
for expression.

I only wish I had the nature's voice...

It's a long long journey
And I'm dripping wet.
I don't have any money,
Just lost a bet.
If He was to come
before me now,
What would I say to Him?

Take me away,
To the land of your sway;
Give me break
From the curse of myself.

All I ever wished
Was to be a good girl,
Will You tell me
Where did I go wrong?

It's a long long journey
And I'm really hungry,
I just gave away
My food to the roadside baby;
If He was to ask
Why did I do that,
What would I say to Him?