you

rain against the window pane
whispers vaguely familiar songs
and sweet, fond memories flash back
of you and me, sitting together
huddled in front of the wired heater
fanning wafts of hot air in our faces
flushed with old monk and coke
orange-hued fried battered fish
stared back at us from oil-stained newspaper
together with mint-chutney, laced with blood-curdling
unbearably hot, yet unavoidable green chillies
the warmth of indoors disappeared
the instant we stepped out
in the frosted december night
those lovely walks on
the deserted tar road in corbett
between dhikala and bijrani…
those silly moments of lying down
on the dry, cold road carrying tyre-prints
of infinite vehicles that thundered along
and the possibility of having your back against
a spot where a beautiful, serene wild thing
may have crossed the road for a thirst-quenching
gulp of water from ravishingly charming,
kosi flowing deceptively innocuously
between pebbles smoothened by centuries of
caresses by nature’s wet hands…
those memories of our time together
are tattooed in my heart immortally
and will always be there for me to cherish,
just as you, my love, i hope, i pray
stay beside me till my last breath.

chase them...chase them

i want something from life
and, i’d say, so does the wife
but it’s elusive so far, to say the least
a beauty being chased by a beast
someday, i pray, we will catch
up, and hopefully our eggs will hatch
is it enough to have a dream?
even though far away it may seem
in the journey to the destination
lies really the whole fascination
chasing dreams is an exotic sensation
but not dreaming is like annihilation
to chase our dreams, let’s walk or jog or run
but if we stop dead life will be no fun

what price independence?

offsprings, siblings, parents
domestic helpers, gardeners, suppliers, et al
pets - dogs, cats, fish, turtles and snakes
are they independent...
what is independence...
what is freedom...
what is liberty...
if not words that hold no real meanings
we are bound - arms, hands, hearts and heads
every which way can be conceived

the hackles of debt...
ummm...now that independence
can surely bring a soothing calm
but for how long?

prohibited by law...
when it stops a crime, it's wonderful
but when it stops me from speeding, it's horrendous

impositions by society...
again, for me it works
against me, it doesn't

criticism...
freedom of others' speech is not that liberating,
or, is it really?

chained by love...
at least that is a dependence that we love
now, don't we!

almost meltdown

the sun is melting
the molten lava of its heat
is sending trickles of scalding
hot perspiration down my bare back
the heat is turning me blue
from exhaustion
but my palms are dry
and so is my head
for,
you, my dear,
are cooling me down
with the shadow of your long tresses

are you dying?

everything has its place and time
i am still searching for mine
one day sitting on a mountain high
i will wonder, my legs dangling, while
ever so slowly time slips by
and my saline tears run dry
where did you run to my time? to set you free, was that a crime?
love has nothing to do with the state of mind
what really makes it stop is the grind
without this grind and whine
it's impossible to shine
through life and get by
otherwise you can only cry
sigh,
and die!

tiny silhouette...small footprints

small footprints on the mud track
move uphill laboriously
the deep impressions implying a huge burden
on tiny shoulders barely big
enough to carry a petite head
the setting sun indicating
that indeed it must have been a long
tiring day, and
a long gruesome journey
impressions of small drops of sweat -
dried-up under the still scorching sun -
provide evidence of immense effort
then...
...the silhouette
of a child
- young enough to be cradled
in loving arms of a mother, or
father
- nimble enough to tread the chalk-imprinted
rectangles of hop-scotch
- innocent enough to plead for sugar-laden
sweets and chocolates
crumbling under the stack of firewood,
dragging heavily towards the hut
still some distance away.

i shed a well-fed tear, and
quickly retreated in shame...
in cowardice...
of leaving a helpless angel
to fend itself
...from...
a ridicule of a word called humanity

monday

i forgot to wear a frown today
it was clumsy
of me to do so
especially because it was a wet, rainy day
but because it was grey
i couldn’t make me feel blue
however hard i tried
i felt not unhappy
not sad, mournful or irritated
disjointed?
maybe.
but full of sorrow and pity for myself
i was not
there were many
who tried to make me
not make me likeable, amicable
but they failed
miserably, if i can say
i sat, my cheeks and chin in my hands
and wondered…if everything was the way
it should be
it wasn’t
it couldn’t
but even that thought didn’t make me flutter
away from my grin
butterflies flitted nervously
inside my stomach and the lower intestines
but i braved on
and survived the doomsday that comes
every week, weekend after weekend
on monday.