Border

And flowers bloom at the border

Beneath the wire mesh

Safe from either soldier’s tread

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Orange Muse

As the world flocks after butterflies, the moth rests in a corner – all of its glorious colours tucked inside a brown exterior. One with the night, hidden from sight. Quiet, and beautiful on the inside, like many among us.

.

Oh sweet orange stranger,

Won’t you come closer,

Shed that brown attire

And showcase your fire!

Oh recluse,

Dear muse,

Let’s hum the same songs

Of the stars we have long

Known,

Each, alone.

Share your dreams

Thoughts and memes

With this soul

We’ll be whole;

Parts hidden

Loves lost

Memories ridden

That cost

Us our sanity!

Our vanity!!

Oh won’t you say

Why you prefer the dark

Did you lose your way

In paths blinding and stark

Do we share the same fears,

Do we shed the same tears?

Fight the same wars

Perhaps tend the same scars??

Won’t you tell me

Oh muted symphony,

Dear beauty in flight

My friend for the night.

The Line

To love or not

To hate or not

To run or not

To stay or not

Change beckons with an empty hand,

And I falter, as I pre-meditate,

I seek to run

Break out

Of this mould of regularity

That constrains,

Chains,

Every day a known step

In a toxic vicious cycle,

And yet, run.. where?

I lie still, as the darkness

Drives in and out

Of my heart

And my head,

Clouding over all thought.

Release and relapse,

Both choke me in my skin

And I falter

In my steps,

Not knowing

Whether to run

Or stay

Where to run

Where to stay

Whether to love

Or to hate

Who to love?

Who to hate??

.

Till I falter and fall

Along the line of life and death.

Nomophobia

Perhaps nomophobia

Is not only about addiction

Or obsession;

Perhaps what defines my irresistible urge

That compulsion

To unlock and stare

At a screen that offers

No respite

Is not really about the chats

Or the calls

Downloads

Other worlds

Or the swipes left and right;

And the panic attacks not about

The fear of missing on a vital

Piece of social life

Or cyber strife

But just…

Well,

What if I say

All I care about

Is not what meets my gaze

On the glaring screen

But what does not –

What if the solace I find

In technology

Is this new paradigm,

This capacity,

Of passing people without really

Looking at them,

Smiling at them,

Yes, the little black contraption

Gives me the power

To pretend

To be like everyone else –

Self-absorbed,

Busy with many private lives

Except those lives are all

In my head,

And not the phone.

.

And so as I spy

Around the corner

Someone new yet familiar,

An old acquaintance,

A nameless face,

I pick on the phone

And walk on

Seemingly oblivious.

No awkward smiles

No lopsided glances,

No irrelevant greetings,

No small talk!

.

I sign in peace

As I clutch my phone

And hurry on –

A normal adult being.

Textbooks

I wish textbooks would sprout wings

And breathe fire

That the fine print would twirl

Waltzing their way to me

And let me hear

Not silence

But tempestuous battle cries

Invigorating the very sense of my self

From skin to bone, through flesh and blood,

So that I may glance and take it all in

With bated breath;

Words lining up, marching on

And dare not stop till the end of war..

I wish textbooks would take me far

And keep me there, keen and bright,

But alas, they pick up the hum of the night

Unbroken lullabies that bid my eyelids

To meet and never part,

As I leave to seek the dragons and battles

In my dreams.

Out Of The Blue

And then

Out of the blue

The fog would clear

And you’d sit back

Laughing,

Wondering

Why you were ever afraid in the first place.

Why Fear?

Why fear

My dear

Frail little things –

The crystal vase

The wild dream

Your own beating heart;

Dreading loss

Your fingers close

Upon them all, a trembling grasp

Why not let go

Why not let soar

Why not let scatter and shatter if need be

Why fear

My dear

Evanescent beauty,

When all world holds

And ever unfolds

The promise

Of so, so much more..

🙂

Empty

I fill my days with colors

Pretty things

Sweet souvenirs

The aroma of memories

Lived and unborn;

The dusty palette of fading acrylic

And the sepia tones of yesteryear songs

Cravings of chocolate, solitude

And fluttering heartbeats

Highs of crowded laughter,

Swirling love

And all and anything else

Except me.

I Float

I float.

Flowing with the current,

Hitting against the banks

The shrubs

The low lying branches

And move on

Bruised and bleeding…

Will I too wash along the shore one day?

To sediment

Amongst the filth

Of inadequacy, ineptitude

A lifetime of ignorant delinquency

Marked by sloth

Misdirection

Tangy blues…

Or emerge miraculously

At the horizon

Riding the rays

Of the setting sun

As I glimmer alongside…

I know not.

Maybe one day I

Will not be

A dead weight for this stream

But today

I can’t help

But float…