Friday, January 09, 2015

Letters & Words

Dear You,
I have always had a fascination with words and the images, colours, emotions, situations they create and conjure when strung together. And some so beautiful and/or powerful, they do all that just by themselves. Like love. Serendipity. Destiny. Education. Society. Power. Human. God. Woman. Man. Childhood.
Soon enough understanding them became a major joy in my life. and putting them together to bring to life my mental images, my inner struggles and tornadoes not only brought me happiness when I discovered what I could do with them but also a challenge I look forward to every time I try. A love. Something you can't let go of. Something that pushes you to be better. Something that is constant and engaging. Something that is also comfortable. Something that works on your head, heart and body. Something that is your world. Something akin to what I think love might be.
Words, I was taught early in life by my mother, are powerful. They convey your emotions and thoughts. But one's words can also affect another's emotions and thoughts. My mother always says that no matter what you do or say, people will always remember how you made them feel. And words have a very strong role to play in that. I have always struggled to affect people positively with my words. However, it was quite shattering to realize that how people feel is not entirely in one's control but one has to try to the best of one's abilities. And I have, hopefully. As the famous Boyzone song goes, "it's only words and words are all I have to take your heart away". If not take someone's heart. .. it is to take away some time and make it meaningful. and I hope to make it worthwhile. For myself and for whoever is listening and reading.


I would say yes.
To being with you.
To understanding you.To knowing you better, however long that may take.To support you in all your endeavours ( because I know your endeavours will be humane)To being brutally honest with you.To giving you as many chances as it takes.To being ecstatic with you.
To taking that risk..every single day. Because love and passion is a risk. One never knows till one dives in and thereafter it is the effort to stay afloat with all of one's might.
To grow old with you.
To dreaming with you.
To be scared and fearless with you. 
To loving you - every single day.
To be. With you.

I would say yes. 

Would you?

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Pack Rat - II

I have felt the need
To find. Collect. Keep.
Store away.
Anything and everything.
To do with you.
As I sift through it all
I realize,
I've got a Piyushkin complex.
About you.

It is not doing me any good.
If you find out, it'll do me worse.
What can I do?
I hoard you.
If you say something hurtful,
I will probably hoard that too.

Waiting, I am
for when I know
how to throw it all away.
and just have you.
You see,
this is all I have
in your absence.
Stills of you
in the drawers of my mind.
That keep me company
in this abyss of stupidity.
A secret stash of you, I have.
Unshareable, it is.

My memory serves me well, doesn't it?
Does yours?
Do you store and sift?
Do you open drawers of me?
Tell me you do.
Even if only now and then.
Do you indulge
in that occasional daydream?

Greater value perceived than inherent
in a hoarder's items, they say.
How to argue with that?
Memories. Images. Sounds.
What value, hold they?
Immensely important,
Think not you?
I've been told that
I remember
"the important things".

I hoard. To remember you.
To tell you, you are important, still.
As have always been.
I just can't tell you.

Pack Rat - I

I close my eyes
You are looking at me.
So many times.
From so many months ago.
Fresh, however, in my mind.
Slowed it down
To last far longer.

You are saying something.
To me. On so many occasions
The words. Your tone.
Your gaze. Your smirk.
All the while being registered.
Now being recalled.
Replayed. Repetitively.
Reassuringly. Renegade is my mind.

You did something That one time.
Extended your arm.
In my direction.
Everyone around us
blurred till I
joined you.
our eyes never
moving away till then.

You sent me something.
A text. A mail.
A greeting. A wish.
Remembering. Reopening.
Revisiting the moment.
The joy. The anguish.
The embarrassment. The relief.
The comfortable silence.
All from you.

I open my eyes.
I eat something.
I listen to something.
I see something.
All transport me to
some catalogued memory
of you,
Coming alive again.
Stretched, in them, time to the hilt
till it freezes.
And I close my eyes again.
To reach you. 


Somewhere atop
with a helicopter view. 
Watching everyone enveloped
in mechanisms of breaking
their tolerance for boredom.
I'm enveloped in mine
by watching them all. 
Trying to understand
what ticks in them.
Makes them move,
each in their own 
unique way. 

Waiting for the time
when we break
our own envelopes.
Be with ourselves,
see how the self moves,
see what makes us tick,
observe larger patterns of
how we contribute to
the 'good' and the 'bad'.

Waiting for the time
when you come and 
break my envelope.
See my 'good' and 'bad'
and still stay,
and be enveloped and
together tick and move
in our own ways,
but synchronously.
Together break
everyone else's envelopes.
Make them see 'good'
over the 'bad'
and revamp the way
they tick and move.
envelopes, theirs and ours; 
them and us.

It is...

It is dark. 
There is only a small sliver of light coming from beneath the closed door from the hall outside.

It is quiet. 
There is only the noise of the fan whirring and slicing the air. And me typing this to you. 

It is peaceful.
There is only the restlessness inside me to somehow tell you everything I am feeling.

It is heavy.
There is only the lightness in my head as I go high on the rush of expressing this.  

It is slow. 
There is only my heart that is beating rapidly at the thought of you reading this.

It is cold. 
There is only the heat and suffocation everyone is facing and I shiver as I think of you. 

It is doubtful. 
There is only the certainty that you and I met.  

It is now. 
There is only the hope of the future. Of a moment. With you.   

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Just Because

Just because
forwards are boring. 

Just because
it is nice to know what a person is thinking. 

Just because
I want to write.

Just because 
I want to share. 

Just because
I want you to know. 

Just because
I am happy. 

Just because
I want to put a smile on someone else's face!

Just because
it has been a long time. 

Just because
practice apparently makes perfect!

Just because
it is fun!

Just because
we have only this one life!

Just because
there are so many reasons!

Just because
I don't need any reasons
to tell you that I am fond of you! :)

Bus Rides

I love them.
How there are so many living stories travelling together in seemingly same directions.
I love the pulsating dynamics between people without words being spoken.
I love how i don't feel myself but see myself through another's eyes that are still mine.
I love being watched. I love watching myself.
I love receiving reactions. I love not responding to any reaction.
I love the indifference.
I love how there is solidarity among strangers. A utopia for a fraction of time.
How when a stranger touches me, it creates a plunge in my stomach n then increases my blood flow.
And then i calm down and realise what calm is.
I love to see how people use time. How i do so.
How two strangers talk as if they've known each other for years.
And part as if nothing happened.
The detached attachment.That i want to achieve.
I love meeting people for that short span of time n have some of them etched in my memory for a spectrum of reasons.
I love the colors that go by. In landscapes and on people.
I love the wind. Blowing on everyone.
I love the trees that whoosh by.
And at night they get their two seconds of limelight in the bus headlights,
as each cranes out their branches n then branches back into the darkness.
Symbolic of life. We come,live and go. Like millions of others.
I love watching the distant lights go by.
The various smells.
All telling their own story.
How i can create so many stories on the basis of that one moment.
How it all plays out in my head.
How it all inspires.
How it transpires.
How it makes me perspire.
How i love travel while travelling. 
I love them, i do.