Thursday, January 26, 2012

how it goes away

you were/
home to me/
i was home/
with you/

you moved/
into a house/

i am homeless now/

living upside down/
sitting in a corner/
existing underground/

people pass me by/
sometimes they walk/
around me/
sometimes through me/

ragged torn n soiled/
is the blanket/
the only thing/
i managed to salvage/

it isn't much/
but it is still something/
sometimes it is everything/
when i think/

that it is the only thing/
that had the heart/
to be salvaged/

on certain days/
it gets back it magical powers/
and turns into a flying carpet/
and takes me home/

on some days/
it stays a blanket/
like it was in its former days/
and i cover myself from head to toe/
and close my eyes/

i close my eyes/
and say these words/
like a moment punctuated/
by the present/

you are
home to me/
i am home/
with you/

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

in fond remembrance

the burden of your eyelash,
lies heavy.

too heavy for me to carry,

i use it as a bookmark now.
carefully marking the chapters,
in our holy book.

i visit it sometimes.
i read the other chapters.

and then i read,
the most important one.

the one captured in your fallen,
but not forgotten,

sometimes i touch it,

it still feels wet.

alphabets, words,
sentences, meaning,
of the story,
made blurry.

i try to remember,
did it fall,
when you were crying,
your happy tears?

if so,

i try to remember,
why then is the story,
of the eyelash,
titled as sorrow?

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Hooked Shadows

Transparent. Translucent. Opaque.


The Sun Catcher

Sometimes a room is just a corner

Nicotine Keys

Hierarchies Of A Glass Ceiling

Haze In An Ashtray

Corners Catch The Sunbeams

Breaking The Grey

A bit of the outside within.

I stand at my window.
And look at the world outside.

The world stands and looks at me.

Perhaps both trying to find life,
On the other side.

As it lays floating, suspended,
In between

Thursday, January 12, 2012


if a reverent man
sits in a graveyard
in the darkest hour
only to
test his faith
or to put it on a parade

what then
is this kind of faith
that is dependent
on proof
of existence

what then
is this kind of faith
that has a weakness
for acclaim

I have seen
more faith
in the eyes
of a dying mongrel

a faith rooted
in knowledge
that one day
we all come back home

a faith in knowing
that finality
bows down
to eternity
i need something more than words.
give me more than just words.

give me words you really mean.
when you say them.

and when you don't say them.



I once saw a pebble
I had assumed
It was insensate

That was then
And this is now

The pebble
Lives polished

I live, nowadays
Scuffed on the inside
And around the edges

This is how it all began
The story of a roadside pebble
And a palatial man

It was a pebble
On the side
Of a road

Frigid at night
And blistering
When it was a day of the sun

I felt sorry for it

It gathered moss
And got dressed up
By the traveling dust

Lying there
In eternal wait
Trampled upon by stubborn feet

I was sure
If it had life
I would hear it sigh

Pleading for rains
And when it did
I would see it weep

I felt sorry for it

And then one day
The last shiny bit of it
Caught her eye

It got picked
By a lady
With velvety hands

She saw beauty in it
Made love to it
With her satin kerchief

It transformed as she grew obsessed
She made it the central piece
In her royal crest

I hear, these days
It goes around
Telling stories

About it, a jewel in Her Majesty's throne
And a roadside pauper
Someone it had once known

And it adds
With worried brows together knit
And an elaborate gesture of the hands

I feel sorry for it

Wednesday, January 11, 2012


I wanted 'this'

And along with it

All things good

Which make life

So, I chased a butterfly

I went after the breeze

I jumped into the sea

Stood on rooftops

Soaked in the rain

I looked under every stone

In a hope of finding ‘this’

I searched

The more I did

The more I despaired

And then one day

It came to me

Sat next to me

Smiled at me

And said

Lovely breeze

Beautiful butterfly

Calming sea

Heartwarming rain

I realized then

I smiled and said

Yes, it is

Tuesday, January 10, 2012


this game of seduction
and surrender begins
every night

the calmer the night gets
the more agitated I become

she slips into her lacy serenity
and form-hugging dopiness

she glides into the black velvety bed
plays with her hair
twirls those wayward strands

taunting me
her opium eyes, those half-fallen eyelids
open me up to subjugation

she gestures me towards her
makes me crawl to the foot of her bed
and makes me stay on my four

i stay
i stay awake


she laughs
she turns and sleeps

letting me watch
the curve of her hips
the contours of her breasts
i imagine
how they rise and fall

i try to get near her
she gets away farther
like the incense smoke
she stays on my clothing
and clings to my mind

all night long
i long

and just when I barely manage
to close my eyes
she lets her finger linger
on my nape
on my shoulder blade
on my back
tracing my spine

i turn with hunger
she disappears within a blink
and no longer

i beat the carpet
i search her bed
come to me
atleast once
i say
be mine for one night
my miragy sleep

why entice me then
with your starry vice
why give me hope
and then leave me awake

she calls my name
i search for her
she is there at my window
towards her I go
she shakes her head
warns me with a no

why entice me then
i ask again
with your starry vice
she points
towards the breaking dawn
and makes me hear
the cock crow thrice


Monday, January 9, 2012

quick fire romance /

which sizzled under the care of the daylight /

comes to terms with a cold cold realization /

a side dish of a for-one candle light dinner /

on a simmering slow burn /

heating re-heating serving /

emptiness as the main course /


Tuesday, January 3, 2012


i ran
as fast as i could
desperate to find a corner
a corner so blindingly dark
that it would scare the lights
a corner so solemnly silent
that it would scare the screams
i ran
as fast as i could
but perhaps i ran too fast
life, along with that corner
passed me by


i looked around

i looked within

sea, is what i see


gentle at times

at times rough

cradles me sometimes

throws me away the other

tries to rescue me

and tries to drown me

the sea loves me so much

that it can hardly bare to see me

happy without her

happiness is demanding


bleed out.

spread out.

paint me.

from head to toe.

if you truly love me,
you would bleed,
some more.