Slipping Away

The story slipped away from my grasp
Like my children
Once they had grown.
I tried to catch it and it teased me
Running from one corner of mind to another
But my limbs have wearied
Of the burden of fetching and carrying.
My reflexes have slowed down
From the sheer monotony of routine chores
That are a series of mechanical moves
That needs no brains and just a bit of brawn.
Like an amoeba,
The story keeps changing shape,
Stretching itself now to grow in this direction
And then in that
Deliberately defying the authority
Of its would be author
Punishing her for neglect, indifference, insularity

And then one day,
As we kept on at our endless game of
Hide and seek
My story and me
It became an amoeba
A glossy, gooey, organic mass
Reproducing and decimating itself
With a blend of sadistic and/or masochistic glee
And I keep watching
This strange metamorphosis of
What might have been my own creation
Helplessly

Affection Magnet

Life has its shares of travails. At times we share a few strands with some who are either close to us or with some who touch us in a way that makes us feel like sharing the same. To make them comprehend. But do they? Do they get us in the way we intend to?

Whilst sharing the walk of our lives, we also relive a few shards. And boy do they mar. Kind of makes you wonder, when will they ever be embalmed in the pages of history where one just kinds of glances at them and they don’t have the power to saunter back again in your life.

Today commented to mom that I was tired of walking. She reminisced about my childhood telling me that amongst my siblings, I was the one who was the first to start walking and that too without any support at all. It seems I had taken them by surprise. [It’s a different matter that later on in their lives’ I did bestow quite a few surprises and not necessarily of the nice variants]. And if I was tired of walking then it’s just because I walked a slight bit “Abol Tabol”. I was blown away. Such simplistic reasoning to my enervated stride.

That abol tabol path has shaped the present me. Yes it did bring a few impediments along the way, but living those experiences don’t label me as an affection magnet.

The Divorcee

I
Bit by bit
The smooth rounded shape
Of her happiness
Acquired angles,
She herself
Had become sharper, brighter
Bearing the weapons
Of a ‘liberated woman’
She was probably the only one
Who knew and admitted
After sleepless nights
Spent weeping
That’s the liberation
Was nothing but despair
Nonetheless,
She wore the mask
Of a proud Modern young woman,
The product of Introspection
And a piercing together
Of what she remembered.

II
She spoke with such indifference
Such derision
That it would have been pointless
To contradict her
For she herself seemed
Always ready to step down
From whatever
Stand she has taken
But in fact she never really did,
She clung to her prejudices
Her personal experiences
To a code of living
That had been instilled
More from Harper’s Bazaar
Than from the Gita,
And her weary voice
That dragged a little
And was so convincing
A cover-up
For a frightened pitiless woman.

III
Yes she was afraid
Afraid she wouldn’t have enough money
Though she had plenty,
She was afraid
Afraid of being old
Though she was young,
Afraid that she would give herself away
Though there was nothing
Under that air of elegance
And offhand manner,
There was nothing at all
Behind that façade,
No haunting Memories
Nothing….

Inorganic Me

We come from two different worlds. I don’t mean the difference of geographical boundaries but that of thoughts. Not that of language but that of feelings. We could lay it on the way we have grown up, seen the world or experienced our journeys till now.

They say opposites attract. But is it relegated only to the gender or to the other facets in life also? If you look at one’s friends circle, then one sees that we are friends with like minded people in some way or the other. Yes there are those odd balls in that circle too but then most of us have a basic common ground which binds us together.

You say my life revolves around formula 1, movies and music. I never thought of it that way but then when I sat to think about it once I realised that yes at times I do like to surround myself with inanimate comfort factors as they take my pain away when I am bleeding. They don’t have the power to hurt, though if Ferrari loses it depresses me undoubtedly. I find solace in them when I have been pushed to the brink. And the latter happens as I am enormously emotional.

I don’t believe in losing or winning when it comes to love. Love is something where one just gives without any riders. If it’s reciprocated then you have found it. But if it’s not in the same intensity as yours does that mean you ought to stop loving that person? You still go on, don’t you? Because that love is yours and is not dependant on any external factors.

I am deficient in a lot of ways. Perhaps because of this no holds barred mentality of mine I have left myself open to the spears. And that’s why there are walls I have put up around me. It would take time to let the guards down. I did let them down last time around and I got badly bruised. I don’t want to go through that pain yet once again. I know it’s not fair on you but then this is me.

Passionate about life and love. Gleeful at one moment and break into torrents of tears in the other. Prankster to the core yet seriously philosophical. A single digit year trapped in doubles. Excessively expecting. Fantastically depressing. Intensely eccentric.

Am I bearable?

Protracting on the Momentary Lapse of Reason

Never knew that I would be placed in a position like this. But I alone have to bear this blame. After all I did have my misgivings but I overlooked them as I was in “love”. Incidentally so were you. Mine still persisted in spite of all the see-sawing life through at us. You took the shortcut out.

Not only satisfied with the shortcut, you indulged in also taking me hostage for unknown reasons. Was it just a fancy or you thought you should remind me of my past? Great going!!

Thought a scorpio by birth I have never indulged in the one hook that does come with the territory of the arthropod. I never stung. For the first time in my life I want to do that. And not to get back at you for all that you have done to me but just to make you feel just one ounce of that pain you have inflicted on me so erroneously. To tell you that I cannot love you anymore.

Farewell

What thoughts cross
A mother’s mind
As she watched her son die
A policeman’s bullet
In his heart
As she fumbles for words
To express
Love she had taken for granted
Love she thought was permanent
Trying hard to recapture
All those moments
Trying so hard to smile
To say something appropriate
For one last time.

Painful Void

I will not cry
They say I am cold
I’d like to be.
Instead of this nothingness
Over powering me
I cannot think
For ….
My heart would bleed
You ….
Are my every need.
No use for people
Mere happy smiling faces
Nothing to smile at
Or ….
Have I gone mad
Oh!
Anything I’d welcome even hurt
Than this nothingness
Empty ache
I’m cold
It’s just a façade
I love too much
I give my all
I cannot take
A bare existence
I’m too weak
A coward
I’m cold
I have to forget.