Etched

It's that time again. To leave it all behind. To shake off the everyday, the expected. Move on, move forward. Lessons learnt, experiences in my suitcase, memories that will stir up in the wind, bad aftertastes washed away, palette cleansed. Yes its that time again. The one I look forward to everytime. That moment that time that month that gets me the most excited. But not this time. It doesn't feel right. It feels downright sick. The feet, they feel heavy. Not all that went past was pleasant or pretty. Heck, a whole lot of it was plain horrible and traumatic. And that's why, this time, more than ever before, should be the happiest most awaited move..to greater glories and brighter suns. But I'll trade those million bright suns in a second, if I could dig nails into my feet and ensure that I cannot move, will not move. The thunderstorms have been dark, they've been loud, they've been on most days, destructive. But I'd still much rather stay. There were these warriors, they came and went in large groups at regular intervals. They knew us not too well and we loved them from a distance. They'll never know how they changed us, levitated us, affected us. Conversations were brief, interactions always had to be hasty. The bridges from aquainted to personalised probably were never crossed. Time was never enough. And yet they were always the sun on our cloudy days, the moon on our darkest nights. They didn't know it. Of course they didn't. Even we didn't know it..that it was them. They who healed us, touched us and gave us a reason to love a time which was otherwise rife with only trivialities and inane ambitions. They saved us. Without intending to. It's the same feeling you get when you stand atop a cliff that overlooks the endless expanse of the sea. You can't dive in. You can't swim across the breadth of the entire sea even if you wanted to. So you stand, silently and watch. You experience its mightiness, its power by merely looking at the horizon and the sun that sets on it. Each time the waves lash against the rocks, each time you feel the salty sprays against your cheek, each time the wind digs cavities in your soul, you know you've been changed. Embers that will never die, have been lit in your being. Yes that's what these warriors were, they were the sea. Transforming us, overwhelming us, etched on our hearts, our minds our very existence, without ever intending to. From a distance. Endless, seamless. They're gone now. This time will never return. Youth wanes. What awaits us is seemingly bigger brighter happier. But we want none of it. This is where we want to be. Clinging on hopelessly to the memories of this ghost town. To the unspoken truth that has re engineered our identities.We don't want to move on. We want to weep and lament about a time that will never return no matter what we do. It can't return. So we choose to remain paralysed. Stuck. Rendered incapable of moving forward. Etched. I can hear it..the sound..of our breaking hearts. These tears, they will never die.I know we will remain haunted for all of life.

I hope they know who they are. Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts.

Oasis

Lost in the wilderness. Oh the great wild. The snare of the dark. The wrath of the unknown. Those creatures that lurk behind the great big oaks. The moonless night. The stars that won’t shine. Where is this. Where am I. The glade up at that distance. Searching, hoping, desperate crawls. Oh this wild, this merciless wilderness. Of people of life of unfelt emotions untouched souls. Dispassionate passions and passionate lies, thirsts that cannot be quenched and the hunger that cannot be satiated for it doesn’t exist. That gentle brook that once was of sweetened waters and caressing soils of luminescent pebbles. That wooden bridge that ran across. That hand that dipped in and felt the tingle. The hand that pulled away and dried itself on the pants. Those toes of the leper that needed the healing waters of the stream. That wooden bridge that was washed away cause it rained no more. Those empty eyes and deafened ears. The cold numb heart with embers that won’t die. That racing pulse that feels no pain. Battered spirits that will not crumble. Cherished hearts that will never bloom. The secrets hidden under that sleeve. The brazen truths that can never be seen. Oh the snare of the wild, those creatures, those demons of the oaks. That magical brook all parched cause it rained too much. Two souls that were found at two separate ends. The distance across the universe. Trapped in the same wilderness, oh so dark. All that was needed was that little wooden bridge that was washed away cause it rained no more across the magical brook all parched cause it rained too much.

Be

The lights are out, sound their sleep, happy dreams, content snores, let them be let them be. He looks at them he shuts the door, he wants to run, it cannot be it cannot be. The love they give, the joy that's make believe, the glee in their laughs and the delight on their faces, he cannot feel cannot feel. The food its great, the air its clean, the birds that chirp, the leaves that rustle, the rain that falls, the embraces of love, he cannot taste, he cannot feel, he cannot hear he cannot see cannot see. The love that is real, the home that is perfect, the goodness that they are, he cannot bear cannot bear. The life that he chose, the truth that he rejected, now he cannot flee cannot flee. We love you they say, we need you they cry, they are real he knows they are pure he knows so now he is here he is here. Every giggle every laugh oh so hollow oh so hollow, his eyes so distant, his soul so parched, his heart so grieved, his breath so laboured, this is now this is forever. He is here and will never be. That was there where it was ought to be but it can never be never be. I am here you are here we are here but I am there. Never here always there but there can never be never be. Let me be let me be.

The silhouette.

She gasps and then she asks her not to take her back..She pleads, she implores but an exit finds she none.She leads her by the hand with the faintest of whisper, a lure that cannot be resisted.The spokes of the wheel that turn to a blur.Knees that bend with the swift, smooth run.Scrawny trees and drizzles that wet the tip of her nose.The sidewalk.That mirage in the distance that was a real lake.The stream ahead that was a parched pit. The sun that always set too early and rose never on time.The smile that cast a spell and the pimple that remained.The bags that got lighter and the books that felt heavier. The giggles in the wallet and the burnt photographs.Of tears that never fell and joys that lasted longer.A time that never existed and hence was never remembered. The calls that never ended and the phone that never rang.Those high heels that were oh so cute and the sneakers that gave her back some rest.The chocolates that never melted and the peanuts that rolled off the table. The tap on the cheek and the kiss she never wanted.The love that they made and the sex that was mourning. Some laughs they got louder and the gaze that drifted longer. The street that got closer and the bridge that went farther.The silhouette that captivated and tormented.

Come home now

Come home now. We wont fight anymore. Not tonight, no.Tonight's just you and me and us. We'll forget about the things we've said and done to each other that has left our souls just a little perforated. We'll forget how there are times the hate and anger is enough to kill and to destroy. Tonight we'll only talk about the good times we've had, the laughs we've shared, the times that we tickled each other pink. When just one thought of you was enough to keep me up all night or make me believe I could fly or crush a mountain.Where just the possibility of not having you for life was enough to make me stop breathing. When being with you was the only thing in the universe that made perfect sense. Tonight will be about those nights. No, tonight we wont fight. We wont think of all and everything that has gone wrong. About how the very concept of a "us" is the most impossible, far fetched thing which refuses to show its faintest glimmer even on the farthest horizon. No, not tonight. Tonight you will come home to me. There will be love and tenderness and all that is pure and true. Come home tonight. And tomorrow, at the break of a new dawn, we'll bring out our guns again ready to ride our battleships and annihilate each other.

2010

I wish this new year has more listening and less asserting. More trusting and less doubting. More people to love and fewer to hate. More of rum and less of coke. More of patience and less of anger. More singing and less yelling. More to give and less to take. All to give and nothing to take. A desire to love but not one to be loved. The desire to appreciate in the midst of criticism. A passion for life and a loathing for self debasement. A willingness to embrace all trials and shun all cynicism. The strength to hold on and to let go. To be able to argue without offending. To recognise the difference between changing the world and changing oneself. To realise that only the latter is possible not the former. More saving less spending. More spending less hoarding. More sleep and fewer late nights. More rejoicing at the slightest thing and lesser whining at the greatest displeasures. More of tipsy and less of drunk. More kissing and less shrugging.

All of this and some more.

I am going to be happy because I have decided to be happy.

No one but me controls that.

Her and She

Just another day, like all others, where her main agenda was to irk people, rub them the wrong way, push their buttons, whilst making her seeming nonchalance undeniably clear, stand out, look down on mankind, rejoice occassionally, exude disdain usually; amongst more ordinary things like consuming a very unusual and very potent concoction of fish,milk,cider followed by a pint or more of whisky and gin all in an ample span of about 20 minutes?? Yes, yes 20 minutes is more than enough for the body to process and co-operate with foods and poisons otherwise meant to react violently. Aaah, then followed happy buzzed feelings...not the usual disdain but little sensations of euphoria accompanied by flying pigs and levitating mice. An hour later, the flying pigs and levitating mice were joined in their merriment by bouncing chairs and tables and co workers who seemed to be swimming on the ceiling without much effort...Oh I suppose she was always too caught up being contemptous and so somehow missed out on how delightful these nincompoops called humans actually were...Oh my gosh, the world is actually so, so , so......... buoyant?? Nice....or no wait..what was that feeling suddenly...umm the buoyancy was becoming very physiologically personal all of a sudden....there, there its bubbling bubbling bubbling anddddddd its all OUT......on the floor, on the sides, on top, and on the other her...the rescuer..is now drowing too...in what is usually called.....puke? Eeeewww....not so happy and fairy tale like anymore...not for the one trying to rescue anyway who'd never seen or "felt" so much vomit ever before..Oh grosss...eeeeek...She hates her hates her hates her....this stupid sick drunk girl who by the way, seemed to be still having a ball with the levitating mice and was completely oblivious it was not really flying pigs but herself floating on her own puke.....oh for the joys of inebriation......sigh.
The absolute disgust of the rescuer for the rescuee for some inexplicable reason, in a matter of mere days mutated into a relationship that is beyond cosmic. She and she today stand inseperable, intertwined, divinely bound across time and space. Yes, it was the puke...that seemigly putrid liquid gunk which was actually cement. So drink up cause pigs can fly and mice can levitate if you really want them to. You never know where you find your lost twin.