Sunday, July 28, 2013

In Absentia

Where do I go?
If here you are not,
In the potter's pot,
The Ragi dough,
Where do I go?

Where do I rinse?
My blood is faulty,
My tears too salty,
My soul smells of sin,
Where do I rinse?

Whom do I love?
My heart is chained,
And arms merely feign,
White flights of a dove.
Whom do I love?

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Under the Moon

Like the moon you emerge
When the sun goes down.
That which was real
Becomes shadowy,
Shadows become the truth.

Moonlight shifts like mercury -
Deceiving as is deceived,
Enticing as is enticed,
Discovering as it reveals.

Sight loses its hegemony,
Touch and sound take the ground.
The silver soothes the sun-burnt soul,
If only for the night.

At the break of dawn
Life sheds its robe again,
Dances the naked dance.
Everything as is,
With nothing to conceal.
Mocks dreams, perhaps.
Belying its other half,
Ever so skillfully.

Friday, July 12, 2013

Impoverished words for the loveliest of all things

music that teases
promises love, appeases
music that warms
cold nights, dark storms
music that tears
through ears that yearned to hear
music that grows
deeper with woes
music that holds
secrets untold
how i long
to lose myself in a song

Friday, July 5, 2013


I will not have you love me because I can write beautiful letters. Nor because I can sing a song about it. I wish you could see beyond the dances I can dance and the work I can competently do. But how can I blame you when I myself fail to see beyond that? Is there anything more to me than a set of talents, pretty plumage to strut about with and signal some kind of genetic advantages? Why must I feel loved because you think I am better than others? 'Better' is so transient, so slippery. Come rain and it is washed down to 'as good', come winter and it acquires layers of snow-white superiority. I guess I am looking for something that transcends all of that. I guess we all are. Ah! The Great Transcending Truth. Humbug!

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

A Nearly Poignant Afternoon

There is this tiny voice in my head that does not allow me to be in peace. No, it isn’t the self righteous voice of conscience. It isn’t schizophrenia either. It is just like one of those compulsive film critics who get the kicks out of making fun of your film, in this case my life. So this afternoon certain events left me feeling mildly low. By ‘mildly low’ I mean something like an incipient cold. There is a funny feeling in your nose but you are not yet sure if it is cold or bath water that made its way to your sinus. It is like the police preparing for counter-terror strike on independence day, which may well turn out to be much ado over nothing. But prepare one must. So I was slowly, watchfully dipping my feet into the river of melancholy, wondering whether I should take a full fledged dip. Just when I decided to pinch my nose and take the plunge, the tiny voice whispered, “drama queen!”

Drama queen! It called me drama queen! The nerve! Imagine what would have become of all the great poetry if a tiny voice had called Keats drama queen! I mean here I was, about to take a long, lonely walk, stoically swallowing my woes, gently reproaching myself for being so sensitive while feeling superior about my critical self evaluation. What deep philosophical insights could have been revealed while pondering the nature of my misery and generalising it to all humanity. Perhaps some poetry as well! Indeed anyone who deprives a self proclaimed loner of such self indulgence is nothing but cruel. So I said to the tiny voice, “How cruel!” Not that I expected it to cringe in remorse, but it could have toned the sarcasm down. Instead it guffawed in mad glee and offered me a wet tissue to wipe what it called my “crocodile tears”.

Me- Why don’t you wipe your hind side with it?
Tiny Voice (TV)- I am not the one suffering from an “upset” stomach!
Me- How clever! I did not know disembodied voices could make body puns.
TV- Awww.. does the revelation topple your world view? How about taking a long, lonely walk titled, “When my world came crashing down”? I know this really depressing, funereal song that we can play in the background...
Me- Is everything a joke to you?
TV - Not everything. Just your fits of self pity.
Me- You have a sense of humor the size of your body.
TV- Speaking of my body size, did you know how much leg space there is in your head? Very comfortable!
Me- Yeah! What with parasites like you eating into my brain.
TV- Tsk Tsk! What a victim you are of the atrocities of the world! Say, I have another song for the walk titled, “They never understood me”. It goes like, “They came and robbed, they plundered I sobbed, Now I’m empty and in tears, like the space between my ears..”
Me- Thank you! But I can do without your smartness.
TV- I have my doubts about that.
Me- Why don’t you get to the point! What do you want?
TV - Why, Louuve and attention!
Me- Listen! If you just want to be cruel, by all means do. I am going to ignore you.
TV- Although that is a physical impossibility which would mean getting rid of the better part of your humbly sized brain, I shall shut up and let you believe you control.
Me- How awfully kind of you!
TV- No baby! Not kindness! It is out of Louuve and attention you seem to not get enough of from the big insensitive world!
Me- There you go again!
TV-  You started it! In a way you always do. Your tales of woe are so inviting! Though I must say I am beginning to get bored of the same old patterns. You need to script fresher angst. How about a long, lonely walk titled, “I want to break free”?

I want to break free
I want to break free from your lies
You’re so self satisfied, I don’t need you
I’ve got to break free
God knows, God knows I want to break free...

I could hear someone’s phone breaking into the song. I wondered why someone would choose such a dated number for their ringtones.