Mediocrity

I choose mediocrity.

Maybe all I'll get to know henceforth
Are hours clocking in
Half-hearted attempts
At survival routines,
And all my tongue will ever taste
Are remnants of bland conversations
And stale affection.

Blue

I dream of you in blue.

Defeat

She collects memories, 
Proclaimed CK one day,
Pointing to my propped up phone,
And I acknowledged his observation
Smiling and nodding;
My photographs aren't displays
Of mundane days, I declare,
But unique frames 
That I wish to retain 
In my head, unblemished. 

One perfect frame
For one perfect memory.

I gather them all with precision -
Kinship, friendship,
Nature, beauty,
Joy, laughter
And moments of poignancy -
One click at a time.

But somehow, it seems,
Moments with you 
Do not fit in those brackets.
My camera stays idle 
In your presence.

I wonder why.

Might it be
That the colours you evoke
Are too vivid to be captured
With a lowly lens,
Or too immense to be held captive
Within the confines 
Of a five inch screen? 

Maybe.

You once told me that no camera 
Compares to the eminence 
Of the human eye;
I argued otherwise,
Haughty in my stand.

But today you make me accept a begrudging defeat, 
As I watch the way you burn far too bright,
All day.
Aflame, alive, ablaze;
Glowing with the light of a million dreams,
And yet adrift,
Amidst soft notes of melancholy.

I think of how right you were,
All day, watching you burn too bright
For my frames;
And as you walk away,
Proceed instead
To hold you captive
In the depth of my eyes. 

Flying Kites

At times, I feel like I might be going a little mad.

Sanity hangs by a thread, entwined in my fingers, and I watch it wave and dance in the wind, enticing me to let go.

Infinite

I didn’t have enough words in me to capture that moment. So I wondered, why not capture it as it is.

One of those rare moments of clarity when the world falls away and all that remains is a feeling of silent awe of being here, in the present moment, as part of something infinite.