>> Tuesday, August 28, 2007

I’d lain on a weedy slope, tattered at creases,
and the taste of life, still sour on my lips ..
It wasn’t life I ached for, but the aftermath -
A languid surrender, which might pass for
vague contentment or something like peace…

He stood defined, silhouetted against pallid sky
looking down at me sans censure or approbation
slipping in slowly, a figure without shadow -
I sank deeply with no impulse for resistance
he led me into regions, of fabulous delight.

I felt being porous and the last that was left of
the whole concoction, which had once been
‘a self’ was running out then, drop by drop….
bleeding down into a creek, feeding a river
which sparkled gaily, in the monsoon rain…

Loudly and robustly, he’d joined me there
filling his lungs, as he soaked in the view -
"Beautiful sight, isn’t it?"
I remember thinking that, yes,
It was a beautiful sight…

I'd tried to smile, to breathe and stand
without clinging onto the stone wall
Now I’m prone to think
it was the velocity in life, which had undid me
the Old Testament decisiveness, of it all.

Beyond the trivial importunities of being
with him at last, was novel transformation

to function without appeal and evaluation
terrible swift words or reconsideration -
dreamily radiant, where all questions
are answered, and all riddles solved …

Note : Inspired by - this



>> Wednesday, August 22, 2007


I waited with precious little in the way of trepidation
piled reveries into the back of my grip,
and embarked upon a destination
as if I knew where it was.

A gloomy limbo had spread murkiness
in the tiny iridescent circuit, where
life had accomplished its esthetic efflorescence
though I was soothed by the notion
that beyond the squalid clutter of my heart
there were emerald pastures with rust eaten fender wells.

A sort of thing I'd occasionally indulged in
to look for a place on this earth, where it was possible still
to lead a life unilluminated by obsolete memories
unserenaded by familiar amorous songs, orchestrations
and uncatered by crude diets of vanity.


By sheer happenstance,
I wandered through you on an evening
with an uncanny knack for soaring
Reasonably certain of a point in an empyrean
I'd hinged open my mouth to speak
just when I lost both my gumption and my bearings.

On my trail back
all its length, the streets said nothing
though I could envision in a gap across the way
beyond the rusting downspout,
the bare limbs of a plane tree.

It seemed you and me, like ghostly lovers
had perpetually pursued, never clasped
and I saw myself forever fated into
repeating same gestures, proverbial words
as outside my shrouded sentience
life rolled away,
like a vast blackness blighted by lights
beyond the windows of a moving truck ..



>> Sunday, August 19, 2007

The lawn was basking in last evening rays, which gave everything a warm glow. The speaker was largely unaffected but when she arrived, almost an hour late, there was a minor stir in the small gathering. She was bright and statuesque, all flashing in a shimmering pink sari, and she was alone. She seated herself so nimbly that the wooden chair emitted hardly a creek. However, she lost interest in the speech soon and looked around. The smallish garden sheltered from the sun, tended meticulously, was flowering, though outside the leaves were wilting and falling.

He was observing her with a twinge of desire, from a distance where she appeared unattainable. Scarcely, one is able to see that precise moment when fact becomes faith and people start to bend their finest loyalties to make themselves bemused custodians of the grave. He saw that moment now, in the profile of that woman, and he knew there was no time to lose. Her restless pupils, after a quick survey of the place, rested on him. They were suffused with such an ineffable sorrow at the unbridgeable chasm between them, that he looked away. He struggled with his impulses for a while but when he gathered the courage to hold her gaze she had shifted her attention to a young man, who was conversing with her solemnly. It was in her nature to be in love with someone, she had once described it as a disease. He was annoyed for being jealous and evaded her eyes.

Tardily, the torturous speech ended, they started serving refreshments and the group dispersed in scattered clutters. She was talking to the same man when he walked towards her and offered a faint hello. She turned and yet again he was crawling into a quagmire. Her black eyes reflected mockery and abnegation of one who had broken with everything and everybody. He could not leave without a last confession of his sins and prepared himself to face her. Her companion bid good-bye and joined other people who were promenading in the garden. He proposed a walk and she assented with the sweet serenity, which never failed her. It was useless to hide behind pleasantries and he decided to hit the spot, instantly.

They walked side by side as if they might have been accepted in the ark.
"I came here, only because I knew you would come." He was speaking out of a deepening despair, floundering. She wasn’t surprised, or if she was, she skillfully concealed it. All the wrong, hurt years of her affliction were proof against the miracle that she construed.

"I didn’t know you’ll be here. In fact, I wasn’t even thinking about you." She replied flatly with a curious air of pride. Sad thoughts, yearning and longings had taken a flight but somewhere there was a spot too sore to bear even the lightest touch.

He was convinced that there was a wall clear as glass between them and if they should fling themselves through it, it would smash and let them through. They had been hurtling past each other and he had made up his mind to exert the final blow.
"I'd thought if I ever saw you again, you’ll have a lot to say. That is why, I wanted to see you.. at least once." He murmured with no trace of shock in his sonorous voice and an intense look of interest in his usually dreamy eyes.

She considered that for some time. Once, she did intend to say a lot but without his angry looks and caustic comments he seemed less interesting and she was a tad disappointed. No man had ever attracted her at first. She always undertook a slow process with them, of erasing the first impression, or at least overcoming and correcting it. Behind the outer façade there was another façade which she usually liked. The man who stood before her now had shed both façades and she tried to hasten her evaluation, to strip away with all layers and catch a glimpse of his current motive.

"I’m sorry, but there will be no crying out, no vain appeal to the past, if that is what you had been expecting." She said quickly and the words lashed him with their irony, things staring at him vacantly from the depths of their mutual past.

"Why do you say that? I owe an apology though I assure you I never forgot you, not even for a day.. a moment.." He stammered and she sensed a rush of moisture in her lashes, a familiar wave of weakness in her heart. Popular sentiment had it that relationships ought to be between equals, but she had never known an equal in love. It was always somebody feeling more than the other, somebody protecting, somebody requiring safe harbor or permission or simple compliance.

"Assure? Did I seek assurance?" She said and simultaneously made a gesture to leave.

"Wait, don’t misunderstand me. I meant to come back, you know that. Why did you stop writing me?" They had exchanged notes regularly, passionately first but slowly their correspondence had become impersonal like news articles. He’d continued to write, perhaps to minimize his dull sense of guilt. He was secretly thankful that she had ceased replying his perfunctory letters, written with indifference.

"This is ridiculous. You had gone away and do you remember seven years have passed since then and I kept hearing about your relationships." Luminous drops of tears fell from her eyes, as she talked. Under the fluorescent lights, he thought, they magnified her eyes into immense pearls. She had dropped the mask of her light-hearted courage. It seemed that she had preserved with dogged, indomitable resolution and little hope. His eyes lit up in the radiance of fresh anticipation. The fact that he had never heard about ‘her’ relationships fluttered his dazed imaginations.

He could see she had changed but she was one of the women in whom altering years show what they had imparted and not what they had taken away. A closer look revealed that what they had assumed must have been estimable of its kind. Yes, indeed seven years had passed and he had had his share of adventure but each time he had returned to her memories, chagrined and grateful, surrendering to them, acknowledging their absolute. Those episodes had merely sullied the surface, never reached his heart and he wanted her to know that he was back, rededicated and more certain.

"Everyone learns sooner or later about loss. The absence of a presence can crush the strongest people." He drawled, sanguine deep down, that the whole creation had ground and wound itself down through the vistas of eternity to bring the two of them face to face for reconciliation.

She stood still for a moment; incredulity and hurt written all over face. There was something intensely personal and moving about her loss and the pathos of her suffering seemed to come from deep inside her slender body.
"When you love, you entrust to that person your sense of worth and if that person throws you aside, you believe profoundly that it is because you are worthless. That is a kind of death." Her words stripped him of every defense and once again he descended to the very pit of his sorrow.

There was a rustle of leaves under their feet and the smell of them, all sad, autumn-like but a scythe of moon was just appearing over the trees. The palpitations of her heart were unknowable finally, they would remain forever mysterious. He drew in the evening with a sigh and implored .. "Only if you’ll let me explain…"

Something in his voice suggested a blend of fresh grief and psychosis, which reminded her of that year when she had fallen in love with the comfort of their togetherness. A permanent relationship and same vague gush of adjectives. They contained a shred of truth, though wrapped round on impenetrable lies. His name had hung about her like a chord that continues to vibrate. All romantic moments are associated willy-nilly even if some are long dead.

"You don’t need to explain. I understand…" Her contralto voice had a rich thrill into it as she paused for few seconds. She knew that when with him, it would always be 'the past' that would occupy them. It would always be there, huge, obstructing, constrictive, and more plethoric than anything the future could ever conjure up. She wondered if beyond what they had already discovered lay more spectacular regions, waiting to be explored.

"No mater how great a love may be there comes a crisis that is just as much an enigma as love itself. You still love each other, but you have to part, or a new person comes along and introduces a new approach." She completed the sentence without any emotion, shrugged, and walked away.



>> Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Embedded amid layers of
dusty twaddle, I’d found
another belief for life
that need not be reconciled
into our demeanor.

It was then I’d discovered
that profanity too had its purpose
what stayed was the knowledge
of leading a double life
one sealed from the other.

A halve fantasized love,
wallowed in complexities,
relished deceptions,
then a brouhaha followed
which chose you and failure.

A separate fraction idealized
glorious adventures,
sublime joys, delicious stupor
that wishes naught
resents none but sinks deeper.

Between body and soul’s
relentless funeral
I’d wished to grab
that swinish material
an otherworldly pleasure.

Former was the premise
and latter a pretext, though
I can engage no more
in futile perspectives
and possible allures.

I’m always tired, never sure
if I'd prefer to conclude
this treacherous encounter
as my luckiest moments
are in quest of failures.


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