Dear You, I wish.

Dear You,

I don't know how to say this. Amidst this affection, friendship and joy we've shared, there is this deeper affection in me growing for you.

I don't think you've realised it. If you have, then you are afraid to acknowledge it and negate it because you don't feel the same.

Or I hope you've realised it and you're afraid to acknowledge because you feel the same! How I wish it were that way. It is so intense, even I pretend it does not exist. Only sometimes. Most of the times, it rears its fiery head out all the time.

I wish it were only fear of how to move from friendship to love.
I wish it were the fear of betraying your best friend, so long gone.
I wish it were for fear of telling me.
I wish it were the fear of meeting me again, for the first time.
I wish it were the fear of holding my hand again, for the first time.
I wish it were the fear of saying "I love you". But in a completely different plane.
I wish it were the fear of riding with me again, for the first time.

This started as a creative template for someone else. All in an attempt to distract me. But the more I write, the more I find it is all about you. Rather, for you.

I wish I didn't have the fear of showing you.
I wish I didn't fear telling you.
I wish I didn't fear feeling fully.
I wish I didn't fear uncertainty in this.
I wish I didn't fear losing you.
I wish, shockingly, I didn't fear you. 

Words or Lines

Every word that every one says
Creates lines in my mind
An image. Running like a reel.
One that is slipperier than an eel.
Hard to capture.
But one that is just in my nature.

Words. They are what must be weighed.
They are what I have wielded.
Not knowing their power.
To create. To break. To hurt.
They are what I have used.
To hide. To take shelter behind them. To prevent.
In anonymous ways.

Lines. I lose myself in.
Every stroke. Every dot.
Leaves me waking. Hour after hour.
Creates beauty, even if incomprehensible.
Words, if so, are just words.

Words require thought. Rhythm. A wordrobe.
Lines flow. They require emotion. Inclination.
Both require paper and ink!
Both I have utilised.
To love. To create. To energize.
To express. To justify. To entertain.

Both I need to command and control.
To recall whenever and however.
But more importantly.
I need to command and control
What lies within. The source.
Be it
Words or lines.

Musings on the Muse

Didn't see her face the first time I sat down. Just saw her nimble hands go around her grandfather as he picked her up from the bus seat. They looked like they were about to dance. When she climbed back on to the bus, she was so frail I saw. She'd be around 7 years old. Her pink dress hanging loosely. As were her hands. Barefooted she walked to the seat in front of mine where her grandmother and little brother were awaiting her.


And then she smiled.

There the picture changed immediately. She came alive. Honestly, I came alive. And the smile stayed. On her face and mine. I went on to laugh, unable to take my eyes off her eyes.


She sat on her grandfather's lap, leaning against the seat in front of theirs and her arms caressing her grandfather's face. As I gazed wonderstruck at her movements and expressions, I suddenly realized she might be mildly mentally challenged. But all that was forgotten as we made eye contact. And she smiled.


Uff! I fell in love. Every time she did that!

The most beautiful person I have ever met. None so alive I have seen in a very long time.

She reached out and held the hand of the stranger sitting in the adjacent seat. The picture of the tiny hand on the thumb of that adult. What a photograph it would have made. The picture is going to be etched in my mind for a really long time to come. Apparently that man didn't think so. He smiled very edgily and turned away. And didn't look her way after that. (Or if he did, I didn't notice cos  I was too busy scuba diving in her eyes.)


Love is so powerful, no? It can make you very uncomfortable if you are unaccustomed to it.


Love is amazing. How it springs from just anywhere and anybody. This little girl, fearlessly held out her hand and I held those tiny soft fingers. And such joy exploded on her face at that touch. Takes such courage to reach out and love. Express love. I was envious of her for being able to do that with such ease and grace. And win a person's heart instantly. Any person's. To be able to love all, in spite of everything, despite everything is such a beautiful thing and easier said than done.


It's been two days since I saw her and she reminded me of the wonder of love. And her face and her eyes keep flashing in my mind and all I can do is smile and feel a strange peace settle in. It is strangely, peacefully unsettling!

There are days I have when I just ooze love for just about everything and everyone in the entire world. Those are rare and wondrous occasions. She has taught me how lovely it is to be that way all the time. Atleast strive to be so. No doubt will be met by pessimism and negativity on the way. But it's love we are talking about here. Love. Just pure joy within. That is when it happens. Clichéd as all this sounds, it is true.  And is wonderfully exhilarating. Makes you feel nothing can stop you. Everything then becomes a joy and not routine at all. Spontaneity comes along with it.

I'm back in love. And it is great.


(Dedicated with gratitude to the anonymous lovely Muse.)

Them.

That one digit. The one number.

The one missed mouse click .

That letter of the alphabet.

All those commas, full-stops and semicolons.

That letter you forgot.

The phone call you missed.

That awful note that was writ.

The phone call you made.

That song. That trip. That meeting.

The person you befriended.

The person you loved. And the person you gave your heart to.

That question. And that regrettable answer.

The indicator you didn't put on.

Worse still, the helmet that you didn't.

The wrong turn on the road.

Worse still in life.

That step in the rain. Leading to immense pain.

The talk you had. The words said and those left unsaid.

That one hour.

The innocent nap. That fib.

That night. That extra shot.

The look. Oh that smooth drag.

The smile. the touch.

The decision. That surrender.

The non belief. The trust. The mistrust.

Him. Her. It.

Them. They.

Is and was. If's n but's.

Mistakes! Mistakes! Mistakes!

There's another one.

That thought.

They're lessons learnt

Never to be forgotten.

Make them. Learn from them.

Forget them. Ignore them.

Build on them. Correct them.

Take advantage of them.

Do anything.

But don’t regret them.

Certainly Uncertain

Oh! the Tugging! 

How it pulls me forward.

while leaving a piece of me behind.

like the cloth stuck on a nail
while the rest rips ahead.


The uncertainty of it all

causing chaos and havoc

in the now.
in the  mind.

Not knowing what to do.

stranded at a crossroads

uncertain which way to go.

no signal or signboards.

Breathless and heavy.

angry and of everything, wary.

suddenly it all seems scary.
trying to find my bearings.
as the needle
of the compass of my life
sways to and fro.
like
a crazy pendulum.


While I wait
for equilibrium,
I travel the corners.
The extremities.
The middle paths.
See it all.
See myself.
Feel every sinew.
blown to smithereens.
under this uncertainty,
that is always certain.


This uncertainty, so erratic.
yet paradoxically systematic.
Making you feel infinitesimally small.
and frightened.
Rips through your confident demeanour.
breaks you down.
bit by bit.


Yet,
Some other times,
it takes you on a high
from where you can see
the entire world.
the entire direction.
and you begin
to think you Know.


Then, the entire ground
and the world you saw
slip from beneath your feet
and you just keep falling.
All the direction gone.
all the Knowing gone.
in the blink of an eye.
it all vanished.


I vanished.
In between all the falling,
I became someone else.
I am somewhere else.
From where,
there is a new world.
A new direction.


Yet again,
slapping it on my face,
there is no such thing as
Being Certain.

Caveat

Cigarette butts.
Strewn across the ground.
Symbolic.
of how much closer
you're moving to that state.
of burning out
and becoming ash.
First inside.Slowly corroding.
Then all too soon,
smoke billows
as they burn you.
Your corpse.

Tree stumps.
dotting the earth.
till the horizon.
Making the beauty
look sickly, ugly.
as you rape off
all her ornaments
to anoint your home.
Symbolic the sight is,
of what is happening
to you. your body.
As it creeps in.
your blood and skin,
defiled and polluted.
succumbing to disease.
despair and death.

Black serpents.
winding their way
through crumbling land.
poison made by you.
Blue,  Life-giving compassion,
provoked into
dark, outraged curses.
As negativity creeps into others,
these once rivers,
today pollute the ocean as well.
increasing their poisonous prevalence.
As you carry on
blissfully unaware.

They can sew. they can cook.
they can love and they can heal.
These very hands can
also hit and kill.
Don't challenge them.
You will start a war
which you are intended to lose.
Embrace them instead
and get enriched.
with diversity.
that difference adding
all the spice in life you need.

All analogies, good and bad
From nature.
She gives us all,
from life to language.
She will also take away all.
Heed her.
Don't test her tolerance.
Don't test those who love her.
They will give their lives for her
but
not before they take you
down a few pegs
give you a taste
of your own medicine.
You will not like it.

Now, You are warned.
Beware.

He

He aPPeaRs. He diSaPPeaRs
hE sEEs. He IgNoReS
He sMiLeS. hE fRoWnS
He TaLkS. He is SiLeNt
he LOveS. he hATEs
He'S IntEREsted. he's bOrEd
hE's duLL. HE's ExCiTeD
he's straight. He's TwIsTEd
He is NOTHING!
he is everything.

Encounter

A corner in the dark

Away from the nocturnal hustle bustle

Groping for each other

He pulls her hip towards him

She inhales his fragrance

Searches for something

beyond the lust in his eyes

kissing and feeling

orifices galore.

Stars and moon as witness.

Something is set off.

More base than she

ever cared to imagine.

And they played out 

their carnal fantasies

and lost themselves

in the midnight blue,

Ah! what an orgasmic hue!

Under the stars

deaf to the wind

that whistles in their ears.

Lost time and space

as they lived out an eternity.

In a moment.

A fraction of a moment.

A blank one.

Nothing except,

the highest pleasure.

And as quickly as it began, 

it ended.

The pleasure, as well as,

the pain that accompanies it.

Lingering and tingling, all over.

Until the next time, 

their urges pull them 

to another dark corner. 

Somewhere. Somehow.