so-much-us.

the so-much-me about him is enchanting. from letting feet breathe from under covers to parallel lip-syncing my thoughts to mirroring actions. there’s so-much-me about him that i feel i can snug-fit into a li’l space in the vast canvas of his being. for eternity.

the so-much-me about him is unnerving. what if i get lost, a drop in the ocean and cease to matter? what if the so-much-me in him dissolves into the seamless expanse of his being without a trace? what if the so-much-me in him becomes just a drop in the ocean?

the so-much-me in him must be, must stay. but getting so-much-him in me is being worked at. consciously. blissfully. hesitatingly.

fingers crossed.

it just doesn’t. it never does.

it just doesn’t rain on the summer of discontent. desperate thirsts remain unquenched, fluid desires evaporate without a trace and salt-sweat leaves ghastly, ghostly forms on starched cottons. the clock ticks in a continuous cycle of hope and hopelessness, empty spaces between two seconds waiting to get filled in by pitter-patter.

none.

it just doesn’t rain on the summer of discontent. browns ache to turn green but wilt in disappointment, pregnant gray clouds frown like a woman scorned, threaten with thunder but refuse to deliver. heat is cold to sentiments desperate to escape out of a pressure-cooker head, find a life, an expression. breathe.

none.

it just doesn’t rain on the summer of discontent. it never does.

living a dream

i live a recurring dream of vermilion and its many reds; of silver toe-rings and trinkly anklets; of shimmery chiffons and seductive silks; of velvety rose-petals crushed by hennaed feet; of jangle-bangles and ochre glows; of balmy, shiny, pink glosses; of trapped, subtle scents in willowy handkerchiefs; of morning sea wind blowing into shampooed hair; of coffee mugs and tea junkets…of love, of epiphanies, of life.

colours of the countryside

:-)

A beginning

rise, float

i want to rise above the confines of smart vocabulary, shed the baggage of borrowed phrases, drop the clever pretence of inspired idioms and float above the matrix of jumbled letters and wise words. i want a language to myself. a language of new-everything.

one night

the other night, i dreamt up a world of bliss,
where long roads take no u-turns
where the veil of resistance falls
without fear or guilt…
where barriers melt and desires meet,
where lines blur and smiles sparkle
where a kiss is frozen in melting moments…
and time stands still

it’s a world that lives in me
it’s a world i wish i could live in

dated: dec 13

dream.

At 11:30 pm, i sit in a room, wood-panelled on four sides, and look beyond the yellowing plates of greasy finger-food and transleuscent beer mugs, some half-empty, others half-full…

from behind the tobacco-scented smoky haze, i see a thought-bubble rise and dissolve…and i zone out of the humdrum. in a matter of micro-seconds, i try and decipher the alphabets in the thought bubble, carefully jumbled…yet carelessly obvious.

they all form a pattern, and suddenly disappear into the binary matrix of space-time.

almost as if on cue, i feel my sweaty fingers work a text on the nokia, and the ’send message’ prompt is prompter than it’s required…

poof! it goes travelling through airwaves, taking with it the dust-and-grime smelling delhi air…floating through matrices of binary signals into another, richer nokia cousin that’s been soaking in the hussain sagar breeze…

a chain is started and soon the weakest link is identified…

Autumn

Today I walked past the dingy, musty bylanes of memories
amid the foggy ruins of time

The silver cobwebs of nostalgia created an illusion
the door to an era gone by creaked on hinges

All was just the same
the bright brass lantern now meditating on darkness
the purple carnation now shrivelled
the blue mittens cosy no more

I looked at them, through them
felt not a thing

But when I decided to move on
a whiff of autumn breeze kissed me goodbye

It carried a scent of a million giggles
of pretty promises and silent vows

It felt of you
And made me cry

Finally.

frames, frozen in time

something makes me reinforce my belief in serendipity