Winters

The comfort of winters is that one knows it stings. Not the autumn hail storm that turns a perfectly set up weather into a pile of slush n muck. And leaves behind a feeling of sadness and disappointment.

Sometimes the sky never clears up after a storm in autumn....

The look & the crypt

A glace over the shoulder confirms its just a wall staring back at her. But it still feels like a pair of eyes are piercing her back. She feigns a nonchalant shrugs an trudges on. Not an iota of doubt on what her eyes showed her but the nerves still tingled.
Maybe it was just the alcohol, maybe a random speck of imagination that stuck on.
Maybe there was really someone in there. Or maybe it is all living, everything that forms the microcosm of her universe. That is quite comforting. The furniture talking to the floor as soon as she has her back turned to them. Maybe thats why she just lies, closes her eyes and pretends to sleep, hoping to overhear the intriguing conversations between those that don't matter. A sheer waste of time, but curious nonetheless.

Subconscious is so much lest cryptic than the conscious .


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Broken pavements

The smoke from between her fingertips makes feeble circles, breathes and dies. She thinks someone's called  out to her, turns to see, but that's not for her. Its just the usual mirage of sounds when one is alone in the hustle bustle. Mind playing games, trying to catch sounds from long back, or the familiar unfamiliar around.

A hurried conversation between a couple over impending celebrations at home and another passionate one between a cynic and a believer.The crack under their feet sees and listens to it all.

Love, hate, passion, indifference, tomorrow and yesterday, pain, vanity, laughs, hurry and calm.

Nothings really changed, and nothing ever does, in this city she once loved. Not so long back.




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White

of skies...

of pearl..

of the blinding sun....

of silver, polished and crafted...

of light..

of stars and of moon in the night..

of lilly and laiche..

of pure allure..

and of pain....

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Red Gravestone

Overgrown wilderness and small shrine enclosed,
Shades of crimson peeping out of the moss.
A silent grave. Lonely and small.
At the foot a watchful canine,
Sleeps at the foot of a master that could have been
A slight miscalculation in the cycle of lives for two.

But both at peace finally...

Of empty glasses and spilled wine...

Loud laughter and unsaid words
Dirty shoes and tiring trips
Broken promises and dreams that come true
Tears of pain and a healing hand
Empty packs of cigarettes and overflowing ashtrays
Smoke filled rooms and free thoughts
Cool sea breeze and a sunken ship
Beautiful melodies and melancholy nights
........

Ruins

There's something quite fascinating about ruins, the ones overgrown with green and brown and broken shards. Its difficult to resist scrapping off the peels from the dilapidation, find the fascinating worms underneath.
She wonders why would anyone build them in the very first place, in the midst of desolation. Far from civilization that would care for all it is worth. Or is it that the ruins caused the desolation.
Why should she even want to know, be a part of the ruins, and the life it held once. Its really not hers to encroach, probe, look at....

Humans are such trespassers !!



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Back to reality

She knew she'd have to someday.
Walk back to the real world, drag herself through the ordeal already described to her in great detail.
She hopes the dreamer doesn't die though. She's loved that part of her make believe world. Her cocoon of safety.
The hands held out are strong and sure, but her step quivers with uncertainty and trepidation. 
She should perhaps she run away for a few more days?

Scream

Silence

Breeze

Shattering glass

Waves

Smile

Sob

Chalk on the blackboard

Music

Pen scratching the surface of a blank paper

Laughter

Gentle humming of the AC

Rain

Chirping

Storm

Rustling leaves

... on and on and on....

Jigsaw Puzzles

When the pieces are all scattered, and you stare at them long enough. You know that it will all fit. The pieces will come together. They are meant to. They were broken from the same whole.Right?
But perhaps the truth is that the jigsaw puzzle was broken for a reason. Jagged edges that will always show Broken for the pieces never to come together. Scattered and free .

To go away . Free will. If it exists.

Dreams from another life

A haze, a cloud of smoke, usual sounds and smells. Piles of laughter and familiar songs. A silent walk in the wee hours of the morning. A smile at a distant thought. The friendly & shy.
The proximity of comfort, at arm's length.

Maybe just a trick of mind.


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Scars make heroes

Masochism at its best it is, to equate the number of scars that are possessed by one's valiance. On the surface. Atleast.

But perhaps valiance it truly is to have them, look at them each day, relive the pain and mask it with self appointed glory; to know the hollowness and helplessness of carrying them forever at terms one never dictated.
While the world laughs at one's foibles and the false sense of bravado that one seems to possess, being able to equate scars to heroism itself is valiance supreme.

Fading

Its scary to live & not just exist in other people's memories. To go on with your other life when the one in which you live is nothing but figments. Fading with time.
Its a price you pay for peace.
Others.

Seasons and the breeze

The window is open, and the breeze blows in bringing with it the gusts from the past. .. the hot ones and the cool ones .She misses winters at times, the familiar biting cold. Lonely , but all hers and the hurt was what she knew. Quite well. Mundane.Intimate.Melancholy.

The spring and summer are warmer, more exciting , but she's apprehensively waiting for the bite. There always is one.



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Strange friendly cat

Dreams are fascinating.
Like this strange one last night.It was a place with hordes of happy people, as usual a lonely place. And a stray feline, with a warm smile adopted me. A skeptic for all things warm and friendly.

It was an old new feeling.One I cherished long ago.Loved and regretted.

Dreams are just that. A message from beyond. A touch from the past. A whiff of the new.


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Full Circle - Life

When one stares at light for too long, it breaks. Into a thousand shiny pieces of many colors and hues. Into pebbles, waves and droplets. And you can just watch it drop, flow and fade away.

As she sits and watches in amazement, her life is converging- the past present and future . All flowing with the music, joining at the cusp. She can have no complaints, no regrets, no miseries - luxuries that she just cant afford. She can only see , how she became her past and her past became her present, to be part of her future, albeit hidden.
Its the light all over again, made up of so many broken shards making a whole.
Just stare.




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"Somebody That I Used To Know"

Now and then I think of when we were together
Like when you said you felt so happy you could die
Told myself that you were right for me
But felt so lonely in your company
But that was love and it's an ache I still remember

You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
Like resignation to the end, always the end
So when we found that we could not make sense
Well you said that we would still be friends
But I'll admit that I was glad that it was over

But you didn't have to cut me off
Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing
And I don't even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough
No you didn't have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records and then change your number
I guess that I don't need that though
Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now you're just somebody that I used to know
Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Now and then I think of all the times you screwed me over
But had me believing it was always something that I'd done
And I don't wanna live that way
Reading into every word you say
You said that you could let it go
And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know

But you didn't have to cut me off
Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing
And I don't even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough
And you didn't have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records and then change your number
I guess that I don't need that though
Now you're just somebody that I used to know

Somebody
(I used to know)
Somebody
(Now you're just somebody that I used to know)