Friday, December 14, 2007


I'm lifted,ungifted,

Down by my dreamvessel of a pond,
Our pieces swim,discretely prone.
Now that you begin to unfold,
I start to walk alone.

Scarlet rose between us,the Rose of Death,
Dries in my notebook,mere flower pressed.
Giving me the reign of my own sky,
Gods of the sands conceal themselves.

My pieces weep for you,
When I try to flee,
Return my pieces,
My pressed flowers,
All to me.
Before you flee...

I'm reaping,not sleeping,
Creeping for hold.
Love was always red,still is,bleeding.
Roll the dice on the floor I lie upon.
Detached,but always to be waiting.
Yet I walk alone.

But insanity creeps up my pond-reeds,
As you shine your greentorch on all thats me.
My pieces take flight deep underneathe,
Help me,find them,I'm losing me.

My love is varnished
In the mildew flave of a morning,
I know
Forever to be.
You seek me,I hear,
I know.
Let go,help me let go.
Or find me.

My pieces have held patience,
When I tried to flee,
Return my pieces,
My little poets
All to me.

Before you flee...

I can see you flee...
My pieces walking in your shadow.
Will they never be mine again?
They love you more than me...
So I plea,I plea,
Return them to me.
Dont flee,dont flee.
Stay with them,in me.


Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Angelic Conception

The fallen leaves crawl back under my feet,
They like to be trodden by me.
Their past has been shed by the willowy trees,
How do they always find me?

They're angels
Of your snow burial.
They alone promise to wait
Before your grave.

Your empty grave…

Never thought confessions could also kill,
Wise time strolls would never reveal.
Never knew secrets would take turn to heal,
Times behind would mislead…

They're angels
Of your snow burial.
They alone promise to wait
Before your grave.

Your empty grave…

I wish one day summer comes to the creek,
Your tears unfrozen, I wish to see.
In black and white, now, I wish to be free.
Like the leaves reborn under my feet…

My wings are now dry,
I swear I’m alive,
I shall never cry,
You cannot die.

I,your Angel,
Of your snow-burial.
I alone promise to wait,
Before your grave.

To take you away…

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Rainshadow (this one's for someone special)

Water will always struggle to run,
I cannot go on anymore.
Before I run away with my love,
Give me a moment,in the rainshadow.

The vein will always express through my skin,
I cannot hide myself from you,
Before blizzards hold my love to me,
Give me a moment,in the rainshadow.

Over the mountain,
I'm lain to come clean,
It's better this way,
Numb (I am) to old feelings.

Ready to climb,
Ready to flee,
Ready to be
Only you and me.

Let us be gone.
Let us be gone....
Simply gone....

A day in My Life

Now is the Death of Today…
With the eye of the storm
Looking away when I pray
Pray, pray…
Please come!
It never comes.
Take me in,
It never does,
Sweep me away,
It never hears.
Pass me on,
It never does.
Take me on,
It never dares.

In the dying light
Of the earth of clay and mold.
So understood by life
There seems to it no more.

Dreamless in my sleep
With the door unlatched.
Shadowland holds still
When I speak
Speak ,speak…
In my sleep.
Outside nothing stirs.
Pass me on
It never does.
Take me on
It never dares.
Take me in
It never does.
Sweep me away
It never hears.

In the onset
Of escapade to abysmal noon,
I do not plan
My return even when pain’s gone.

Pain, it tempts a good excuse to run from my silent river.
Pain,there’s a hundredth reason why I should yet falter.

Now that
The night of writhing’s left to dry.
Time finds
The time to tick back to my old life.


The weakness spreads
Entangled in the dress,
Protecting me from the evil,
Binds the threads.

It pities my soul,
It stays to pray away
My chamber's locked doors.

Why do they show me the sky?
Do they not know
We cannot fly?
Why do they not see
No one decides me,
Its only me,
Behind these eyes...?

My spirit stays low,
Close to the floor,
Protecting my hearth's warmth,
As the holywind blows.

Wholeness of my soul,
Old and untold,
It lives on to be,
The undesired in me.

Why do they show me the sky?
Do they not know
We cannot fly?
Why do they not see
No one decides me,
Its only me
Behind these eyes?

(Exorcise my fear away if you can.
Pray all these tears away if you can.
If holy be your holiness,then tell...
Why hungry infants cry hungry
If you can.)

You see,
I am not possessed,I am not possessed.
You see,
I am merely more humane than the rest.
I am not possessed,
Not possessed,you see.
I am mine,to possess,
Dear god,its only me.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Dreamer's Riddle

Old man is dreamer, old are his dreams
As he dreams unto Ancient Eternity.
Playthings in his dreams, we all are…
Wish he dreamt what I wished to see…

And we are still those children, huddled on wood steps,
Still in our schoolthings,making paper men.
Every time was abandoned, one of my misshaped men,
It would, somehow find its way into your smallest pocket.

And so old Man,Dreamer,dreams of my enchanted story,
And I know,it only mocks my trance,when it distances me.
From you…

Long summerday,in prismatic light of a window pane,
Like a kaleidoscope,the scene would change,
Someone else radiates the glow of your smile,
As I see with a pang,you found a new friend.

In the turbulence of the evening storm,
The vase you had given me,shattered to the floor.
I cried to sleep,myself in my bed.
I cry for Old Man to be finally awake.

Old Man is cruel,he laughs in his sleep,
Old Man,of old dreams,smirks at me…
Through you...
The Dawn is here,bringing strains of your whistle,
With it and it’s the song we used to sing.
When I closed my eyes to sleep to death…
The sound I heard last was the woodsteps creak.

I know not,when the door opened wide.
Nor when Old Man woke up and died,
I hardly heard the curtains being drawn,
Or felt the horizons whisk past me,across oceans.

Night again,is when I open my eyes and see,
I am again,looking through yours,down at me…
As you…

Thursday, October 4, 2007


Blue desert's empty threat,
Softness against emptiness,
Take my soul and lead the way,
Raise me from the dust of grave.

The fearful tonight chants for the rain,
For fear of what their sins have made.
My feet are feminine,ethereal even,
They leave no trace upon the gravel.

I come home,to walk away,
   Bolt the locks,keep the curtains raised.
So I can still see your face
Do not try to reach me unless...

I whisper inside your head.

Flower in the desert I was then,
When they made me forsaken.
Now I prowl by night that prays
For deliverance from my sway.

Everything is changing,inside of me,
A brutal beast,forever thirsty.
Guilt weeps alone silently,
As I savour the new strength in me.

I come home,to walk away,
Watch me fade slowly away,
Evanescent,like the tongue of a flame,
Vanishing from the all photoframes,
I come home,to walk away
Extinguishing lights of the midnight train.

I'm coming home,to walk away,
Bolt the locks,keep the curtains raised.

Do not try to reach me unless,

I whisper inside your head...

Monday, October 1, 2007

Wishing Coin

Driven by whispers,
Into the darkness,
Onto the highway,
Where our ego rests.
Snakes slither by,
We little heed.
Blinded by the speed.
Clambering nomads,
We find hard to breathe.
Ruthless wind,
Blows past our breed.
And then the melancholy
Cry of the night!
Cut short by ours,
Less than a minute.
Our eyes now wide,
The glass shattered
By resonance!
That face, that plight
Would haunt us,
For vengeance.

A reindeer crossing the highway,
Poor helpless thing has crossed over to Death’s sway.
Blood on the metal, blood on the windshield.
Blood everywhere….everywhere but the highway…
And the wheels.

The reindeer, was it flying to us from some Pole?
What was it bringing us?
Had we not bereaved its body of its soul?

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Graying Moondust--The Song

I'm looking at the mosaic floor,
Thinking of heaven
In front of unopened doors,
I try to go insane.

Through the wickerwork,
Of my crystal bed,
Everything's blurring out,as reality fails!

And sanity goes...goes...goes...
Sanity goes....

The plaster is peeling off,
Hope the bricks will follow in its wake.
Maybe the sun will shine through,
Maybe,out there,its day.

In the many layers of the wall,
A dead child's artwork lay
Merging with the damp patches of the cursed rain!

Sanity goes...goes ...goes
Sanity goes.

The windows seem bigger now
With the painted panes broken.
The hinges were rusted when
The silver chest was stolen.

Upon a wintry night,
By a poor famished man.
Haven't undone the wreckage,ever since he left!

Sanity goes...goes...goes
Sanity goes.

The staircase is eroded
By the incessant footfalls,
Cracked in all places,
As the terrace stands tall.

The doors are all caved in,
By storms and earthquakes,
Stuck in this madhouse,how will I escape!?

Sweet, sweet Insanity,
Please,please,talk to me.
Rise now,its not time yet,
For you to go to bed.

Burn illusions into my vision,
Dilute my pain in tears of delirium!
Oh,Sweet Insanity,do stay up with me,
When I die for you,do remember me?

Hallucinating through all Life,
Now I feel so free,
To hope,it was all a dream,I was never me...

Sanity goes..goes...goes...
For Sanity goes...goes...goes..
Sanity goes......

Oh,Sanity goes.

Saturday, September 22, 2007


We make daylight down in the dungeons.
Fumes of our Craft just turned gold.
In the cyclical hour to rejoice,what we make
Hear us clink glasses,sip our own blood?

Mesmerised by fear,we work through,
For Master of the crown,his sovereign rule.
And she watches away,her black eyes unblinking,
She toils away,but her wounds are yet to sink in.

And she sees...She sees..oh she sees...what she sees...

The fingers blue of tormented souls
Of dead soldiers still linger here.
Mirrors uncracked,thats forbidden here,
So Light can't reflect your fear.

Our golden brew is as good as the real,
Bask in its lustre,feel the heat on your palms.
The dark dungeon is nor dark,nor cold,anymore.
The daylights in our cauldrons will make us calm.

The Master always anticipates a betrayal,
He smiles,sadistically,for he knows us. 
She,with the sun fresh in her memory,
Looks upto the ceiling,where the sky should be.

And she screams...She screams..oh she screams...what she screams...

I want to see the darkness revealed,
In the light of the crusades,how heroes feel,
I want to find,a tower high,
That the creature called Fear can't ever climb.

And they work away,
Upto the oasis after Life.
To rise over their sorrow,
By forgetting Little Life.
They smile away,
Through the stench of sweat,
To overthrow fear,
By covering the wounds that bled.

Darling,dont you know how to scream,
Look under your bed.And scream!
Child,oh child,when we die,
Dont be like us,please,please.Cry!

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Divine Return

I'm cornered in a web
Of glittering stars,
Waiting for it to go dark,
As sweet music accuses me,
From far afar,
Intruder you belong elsewhere.

Where have I gotten myself to,..I wonder...
Oh,I wonder...

I was running last I recall,
Racing ,escaping my shifting shadow,
Its a game,a little boy had discovered,
When I kissed the blue lips of sorrow.

Someone is watching over me,always...always..

As I watch her die slowly,
Seperate from this childish me,
Shedding the last layer of sigh,
The Ghouls are shrieking to break free.

In a remote village,a babe is born.

And the sombre saga leaves me not,
Death's bliss is not enough,as I'm caught...
 In the shadows of glittering stars.

Its you alone,why I'm still ungone,
A ghost,a phantom,a registered no one.
Unlocking the mesh of glittering stars,
I descend to be near you,from far above.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Our Rhyme

Yellowing trees,
Hung with berries,
White pasteurs,
Caressing winter loos,
Throttle my dreams,but I still sleep.
With Death on my side,at crossroads now,
I walk Saintless Street.

And then I come back to  you.
They said it wasn't true.
I believed their religion then,
But am an atheist now for you.
And across the lightyears of time,
I see now,
How perfectly we rhymed.
If only you died.
I see you like I never tried,
I believe you like I lied.
Pray for you like I have to hide.
It comes like a runaway bride.
If only you died.

Climbing tilt ladders,
Fixing spotlights,
For the choir to sing,
Black curtains rise
Under glaring neon lights,I fall asleep.
With Death on my side,at crossroads now,
I walk Saintless Street.

And then I come back to  you.
They said it wasn't true.
I believed their religion then,
But am an atheist now for you.
And across the lightyears of time,
I see now,
How perfectly we rhymed.
If only you died.
I see you like I never tried,
I believe you,I lied.
Pray for you like I have to hide.
It comes like a runaway bride.

And the rain comes down,in brilliant drops,
Bare your skin,to the wise dollops.
Dont let the wisps of heaven's addiction,
Flee to anyone else's sky.
Come,old friend,
Let us get wet together tonight.

Lets get drenched in the words unspoken,
Let the morn wait,keep the moon hidden,
Let me breathe for you under this aerial sea,
Wont you come,can't you hear me?

Let us get wet together tonight...
In more rain a million galaxies can hide,
In the bloom of a  fiery spring tide,
Come to the old times.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Humble is my Pride-Watermark--------The Song.

Within the ring now,
Spectators,dictators crowd.
Exposed falsehoods of the silver lining of the cloud---

Dont let it escape,rain will wash away,
Dont let the cloud escape,rain must wash away
Watermark upon the glass from which we both drink,
Watermark to remind you where you had to sink.

Watermark in my tears quiver,
Along the banks of lotus lake.
The world beneathe the ice captured you forever
And time is now I get to surface!

Fear me not,I'm not here to kill,
What can I do,if your vanity likes my sword's hilt,
Suppress me not,I make you feel,
I reflect your reflections,always did.

The monsoon comes close,witness to your ramblings,
They wet you not,you should dress like me.

But now,bow down,while all looks on,
This ring close in,victory's for one alone.
Kneel,please,I wish not to slay my kin
I love you,but I cannot see myself ruined.

And you ruin....

Guilty as charged,
Lips black,all parched.
The jury's entranced,why don't you speak?

Don't let the trance break,their hot hiss will erase,
Dont let their trance break,their hot hiss will erase
Watermark that divides you and me,
Watermark,wintry draught do you see?

Watermark,in my tears quiver,
Along the banks of a lotus lake.
The world beneathe the ice captured you forever,
Time is now I get to surface.

Fear me not I'm not here to kill,
What can I do,if your vanity likes my sword's hilt.
Suppress me not,I only make you feel,
Reflect your reflections,always did.

Fear me not,I'm not here to kill,
I must,I'm obliged to let you live.
I'm only to relieve your flesh of wax,
And conceal your snow tracks.

The rain rusts your hollow mask,shed your skin.
A nascent flake in the hail befalls,are your bleedin'?

Where in watermark,still remains a memory,
Of your descent,'lo when you needed me,
I can still hear the purl of your last cry for help,
Under a million raindrops,I can still hear the ocean call.

And you're....gone.....
Broken doll.....
You're gone....

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

The Beyonders

She watched them in silence,numbed by their pain,
As she walked the draught,handing out medicines,
Killers of pain they swallow,pallid disdain
Etched upon the war-wounds in their skins.

He beheld her from afar,through smoke-laden evening air,
Its salty tang upon his bleeding knees mollified
As he spied through his poison ivy bush lair,
Humbled by her tears,his pain burnt as desire.

And their blank faces screamed,
We're fighting a losing battle.
Soon these flags will be tattered,
To shepherd bloodshed of hearts riddled.

But they gazed away,from the two ends
Like little lamplights across a tunnel,
While battle roared and thrashed before them
Their eyes remained in each other's shakles.

Someone yelled to her,kill him,
He will slaughter you like cattle.
But all was quiescent,under the carcass,
He fought a losing battle.

A sword clanged to the haven of Death,
Nobody turned at a halt,
He stood armless,
A brief look as of funeral,
And the swords clashed on,
His limp demeanour fell in prayer
Pledge to forgiveness,
Unto Mighty Warrior's Song.

A smile lingered on his lips,
Ghost of a kiss lurked on his cheeks.
Lilting notes can be heard still
From where he sleeps.

As the battle runs deep,
Nobody knows where he sleeps
Mellow,forgiven betrayal reaps...

Somewhere...can be heard lilting notes,
Of his violin
As she rocks and knits wintercoats
And sews and sings,
With a smile at his frequent looks.
Somewhere far off, beyond the mongergames...
Yonder where no one will ever seek them...
Beyonders,they wield love in their name.
Beyond,they wield victory
The frosty battles could never claim.

Monday, August 13, 2007

Flight of Grace,Fall into Place

Lower your hood,
Shame will only wreak destruction,
Face the moon,
We know about your demented visions...

The morning is dawning...
When you become us.
You are frail,
You succumb to our old cold rust.

Hypnotizing,elegant,so hayed 
Was the memory of your old bed.
Now that you're gone,they rip down your portraits,
Soldering your shreds,sold are your diary's pages.
But you're falling....

You're falling,
And you're falling...
Cold and naked is this earth.
Falling,you're falling,
Falling from grace you are,
And you are...
One among us.

In the past,
When we tried to flee far from home,
You numbed the crowning beast in us...
Though you failed bitterly,
'Cause by the first notes of cageless birds...

We would be gone,
Lacey strings torn.
Hold our head down,unwind the airs and graces,
Silk heels,satin straitjackets fly traceless.

But you're falling for the ashes,
Of your besmirched letters.
You're falling,you're falling...
Faling from grace you are.
And you are ...
One among us.

Lower your hood,
Shame will only wreak destruction,
Face the moon,
We know about your demented visions.
Feel free to feel
No mercy for your desertion...
Why blame us?Look there she
Walks away where your betrayed us.

At this depth from the sea-level,
Water mere clogs your perception,
You shall live,you need not breathe,
All is well for creatures underneathe.

Insects fed to the hounds of the castles,
Scurry away towards the light underground.
Open tunnels teach your old rimless rooms to see
The end of Fear and Tomorrow's beginnings.
Light of the Sea,
You see defiantly.
While they who dwell above us,
Flourish blackglasses,
To weep...
For you selfishly...

Feel consoled that
We've all basked in your dreams.
At the end we've all woken up
To the same mornings.

The verdict is declared.
Their words wont change,
Their black eyes glare
Like a void in the sky that ascends.

Lower your hood,
Shame will only wreak destruction,
Face the moon,
Your darkcircles play sacrifice.

But you're falling,
And you're still falling,
Cold and naked is this earth.
You're falling,you're falling,
Falling from grace you are,
You have slept with them long enough,
Its time to come down to us.
You've fallen.
You're one among us...

Monday, August 6, 2007

Fossilised Innocence---Farewell to thy love!

Cradle of evolution is reopened.
Doldrum winds whisper apology to the sails again.
Dust of freedom in the pace of Mighty Stallion
Blinds the eyes of who binds his mane...

I stand numb to it all.

I still dread going upto the next class,
Still fear the floors above.
Classroom walls graffitied,engraved desks
Eke my song,farewell to thy Love!

Sins of my Time,sings behind---
Sins etched upon the ticklish lost godchild.
I walk the drunken lanes of Fortitude...
I walk drunken.

Little paper dingies and mindless drowning,
Right to fury for no reason at all---
I wish I could fly,again,to the Riversun,
And await the cliched hours to be cajoled back home.

But No one comes...
Not today...

Fireworks in the Autumn sky,
Luminiscent ink trickling down the curves
of the Great Dome---
Prayers that the prayers of the playrival be scorched,
Sapid in the forgiving twinkle
Of the Diabolical strip in the rainbow.

Lucid,calm,I am now.
The sweat of the day is now gone...

Whereto flew the pasteled pages of masterpieces,
"Playpark" and "Little Johnny's Raingames"---
Did it burn in the fireworks,or...
Did the dingy drown with it?---

Know not...

Playing knights and damsels of heavenhigh mansions,
Daring them to duel me,after Night falls all around me,
I dwindle away the night,middle of the destined alley,
Gazing through the mist that settles,...
Upon the silhoutte mistaken...
A new friend?
Will he tell me the way back home?

The Mistake of Age forbids now...
To be ever mistaken thus...ever again...

The song in my head,drives ahead.
Speedlimits whoosh past!
Then the tinkling of a void...
And the music screeches to an abrupt halt.

The growing lines of Forsaken misery,
---Misery of an adult's solitude---
Emanates a radiance Untold.
A lone kite entangled in Light,
Ripples all alone.

Snow-mantled fields in my dreams
Bury a spring once that bloomed.
I rush back leaving the river to purl alone,
For I know...
No one will come to cajole me home.
Not today...

Cradle of evolution is open again...
But I weep for the fossils of my Stone Age.
Days of Innocence---
Farewell to thy love!

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Higher Education

Learning to breathe underwater,
       Learning my creed from my virgin Mother,
I know how to pick and count the scabs of my mistakes.
Learning to read treasure maps upsidedown,
Learning to find my way in sand-swept towns,
I know how to hold a hand unheeding of the complexion.

Mysterious,mysterious,hope you live there...
Where I glimpsed you last up ahead of me
On Eleventh Stair.
Oblivion,oh oblivion,do you sleep alone?
Like polka-dotted scapes in my head,
Revived from a street-side grayout...

Cold wind in my flame,warm upto this Fate.
Hail,your distortions of the shadows of the Night...
Upon the walls-
Where years passed in constancy,
Peace-the monsoon steeled for the solar eclipse.
...Shall not abide.

Black words encroached on a page.
So very limp,on pages just as dead,
Unable to survive a splash of its own ink.
Drawled lectures and hallucinations,
Fevered chalked writings on the wall white beyond the blackboard.
Hushed utterances,
Silence lest the concrete pillars might hear...
That we did learn.

Learning to make my worship to closed closets,
Learning to steal their arms,stealthy,covet.
I see them grieving,bleeding over the clank of fallen armours.
Learning to paint starless skies,
Learning to look upto the rain on a bridge on the brink to break,
I know how to cling onto the last clothing of iron-hold.

Education,oh Education.
Black words encroach on their pages.
As limp as they are dead,
Cannot even see beyond the margins.
Cannot even comprehend the piercing nib,
Cannot even predict the fire that will turn them to ashdust,

I shall not abide.

Monday, July 30, 2007

BLACKBiRd-The Song

Lonely girl,
Sitting alone,
Hope she's not gone
By the time I'm home.
Her milky eyes,
Gazes blind,
Through the veil that divides,
Her parting smile.

You are not home yet tonight,
Why,you are not home yet tonight!
Little so matters all that my battles ply,
Nobody's coming tonight...

To my eyesight....

A cry would rent
Soot from a heavenly grate.
A crow would shriek,
Dripping black rain,
Of all who visits,
Blackbird,sings most sweet,
Lonely blind girl
Sees noman's defeat.

You are not home yet tonight,
Why,you are not home yet tonight!
Earthly senses bereft,I'm poised to fly.
Nobody's coming tonight....

As my daylight....

Fortress invaded,
Gunshots rumble.
Her arms outstretched,
Her fear crumbles.
But blood merely stains,
The walls he once shadowed.
A hungry look,insane eager,
Peers through her veil.

Why Blackbird,where did you go?
Can't you see I'm taking off alone?
One more step,into the blatant Night,
Into whats red rain now,I shall fly....

Blackbird,did you miss your windtrain?
Oh Blackbird,you never came!
Blackbird,do you hear my wings,
Flutter and rustle in the Black rain...

Long was my wait...
Into the ruby sunset.
Oh,Blackbird,you never came,
Black bird you never came!

Oh Blackbird you never came,
Why,oh My Bird,you never came...

To watch me undie...

Friday, July 27, 2007

An Infernal Resurrection

She tossed askew the lace of light,

Into the darkness of the night,

Away from her,

They fromed in the air,

Rings of glare,

Like tigress eyes.

Her Sorceress had risen to the shore,

With a potion for lust ,for love,at core,

Her heart ,a broke tramp at ease,

Yearning for a life at home,at peace.

She was fleeing through the trees,

Past an airless breeze,

Away from the cries,

Away from her demise...

Once she had died,

And a lone wolf cried.

When she knew the song they played,

For each time she was ...dead.

She knew it by heart,

She sung it out loud.

And out they came like,

Like a raging hive,

Of bees at war,knowing that they had

Buried her alive,out they came.

With a hiss and buzz,

Out they came,

To bury her again.


A broken doll fell to the floor,

A cracked tear in her eyes she bore,

A ghost of tremble in her smilimg lips,

Within the walls where she sleeps.

They watched her,

Trying to read her mind,

As a baleful wind ruffled her hair,

Trying to seep into the dome they bind.

But death had worshipped her slumber,

Endorsed her mirror with a hued picture.

As a child she had urged upon Heaven

To be with her loved and loving,

But Today she craved for a place in the inferno,

Where her colors red,shall never go.

And she prayed for a last look at life,

So she could find the glass,she would hide,

She prayed she could never love again,

Under the sun,never smell the rain.

In her darkness, she found the rings of light ,

Circles of path, like the last spring tide.

Outside amidst the laughter and trill,

Amidst her cremation, came a neighing shrill.

With a drizzle,a whip, the ghouls turned to see,

The Human had come to his sleeping beauty.


Her alms of despair,

Remained a forgotten heir,

She had risen

Not the man,

She had risen

As her Woman.

And in one last haul,

she broke loose of the manacles,

That had bound her to her womb.

She chose to bear

Her child in her mind,

Sibling to her soul.

And He touched her temple once,

He who gave it light,

In his eyes she saw the ocean beyond,

In his hands the rings of Light.

Yet Human He was, not mere Man,

--- The one tangible door.

She breathed him in, possessing inside,

Close to her heart, close to her core.

He breathed her out, liberation to the air,

Rippling against a Illusion austere,

And their lives respired anew,

And yet...the ghouls little knew...


The ghouls had swung

With the swing of a rusty pendulum,

Back in time,

Before she was born.

A new star had come up.

Not the old sun.

The horizon was red,and blue,and green

And shooting stars littered the dusk ,sheen.

For once she knew she didnt have a rebirth.

She was born from the child in her mind.

She was born ,now, never to die.


She stepped across.

Through the frozen fire,

Past the blue moors,

Over the red hillocks,

Onto the sandy shores,

She had stepped across.

Into a world of the quaint

Where the dire was restrained,

And the fairies would water her temple-tree.

That hand she had held,

On her lover's trail,

It had no name,just a futurity.

It had no address,just the present touch,

It had no kin,

Just a home-coming past.

And she awaited till the day would be,

She could walk barefoot over the sea,

She could feel the windy graze,

And she would know,

At the heart of her maze,

She was,she wasn't a mere she...

...She was on the porch,today,

Come what day ,may,

Come she had,

On the porch of her destiny.

Had no one felt this way before?

When today seem to slowly unfold,

When the carpet would roll,

Down the stairs

Land at your feet in a single layer?

Like the future and past ,

Her all firsts and lasts,

Her mown and unsown,

All,a flicker,would threat and dare,

And love and laugh,

In one single flare.

That drizzle would then seem fateful,

And that soft fall of the petal...

That she wished she could have held,

With its sisters,in her palm.

And in her palm,the world,for her,

Would seem to graze,the world around the worlds,

And on her day, she is a world,

A woman,a girl, And right now,right today...

Come what may.

Shut out your vision and you will see,

You are at the porch of your destiny.


There is a myth,of a death long ago,

Its all over the papers and the radio.

The girl they say who survived

The attempted slaughter

At the hands of an archive,

Of promises kept and freedom

In words bestowed.

Of promises stolen,

Down the hill,from the highway,

By the river,in a den.

Dead,declared before the press,

Who was she,she who is distressed?

The beats were gone,

Her final cremation about to begin,

When with a sky-renting gasp,

She returned,

Eyes two slits,red,furious,

And then tearful,the next.

God had given her a second chance,

But why does she still bear fury?

Angel from heaven,they call her.

Yet,as days roll by,quiet by night,

Sees into forsaken lives,she does.

There's the blood of her kind,

Shed in her own hands,

...When she is asleep by night...

Wrenching the night-air,

She awakens the sleeping world---

Save that soul,that bleeds to death,

Her screams explodes in my head.

Forces protect that girl in her head,

Who sleeps in peace in her soft bed.

Night past,scurrying footsteps,

The Devil is here.Death smiling in His wrath.

Death stumbles,grovels in the Dark.

His Light that betrayed him makes

His eyes unseeing.

The hour dismissed,the bells ring.

The girl is alive.

She shall live.

But an hour may not go to waste,

The Devil turns to the ghouls in haste...

And She,falls back to her sleep,

To talk to the Devil,

To discuss his defeat.

In her dreams,they make love,

For Devil has given her...

One second chance.

She tossed askew

The rings of Light,

Where they scorched a hole...

In the sky.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Chaos in Midnight

Forces of nature,
Rear their heads,
Woken up from their age-old lumber.
Memorising the scriptures,
Running notes and graffiti,
Theory of Chaos roars.

Walk in the middle of the night,
Eyes of Darkness upon my silhoutte,
The eyes of Judgement and Bindings dream,
Into the Forbidden Lands;
Salt in the air,of rusted layers,
Borne with lives,and all mere lives.
A hurried rustle of a lost page,
In the dimming halogen glow;
Abandoned shack of a homeless some,
No one to shelter from the din ashore--
In the middle of the night,
I walk,
Whereto I was swept.

Crept out of my bed,
Silent stealth,
Knowing its wrong,
Who will know?
And return by the green ripples in the dark grass
In the peering gaze of a shy sun,
Before the flowers sing,
When the West is still not pink.
Who will know?

Fear beats down
The leap of freedom in this heart,
As dew rains,
Infant leaves totter,
Dripping in the morning rain,
Washed of sweat,
Only the sweet scent of freedom lingers,
I walk,
Whisk past the last trace of night,
Past the bookshelf with books I would rather not read,
Past the whistle of a distant night-keeper,
Back in my bed,
Wherefrom faraway I had been swept.
Is that wrong?

Chaos in the midnight of a red sun,
Staggering in its axis,
Towards freedom,is
But the chaos of throttled collisions,
Between right and wrong...
Chaos is the distant town,
In the small country of Freedom,
In the world of a little girl's mind.
Little girl living alone,orphaned at birth.
Mother,Father living in the room above her small bed,
Little girl sits alone,
Staring at the blind boy across from her window
Chaos reigns as irrational mangles she breaks,
Chaos laughs as across she is,
And then serene...a wind blows.
Door is ajar,the smallest sunshine trickles in,
The people above her bed rushes in
At the sight of the midnight light,
Chaos,she laughs from across with the boy,
The People can only stare...
They can only wonder...

Is She blind...?

Forces of Nature goes back to seat,
As Chaos is the right now,
Sun in the middle of the night,
And the moon hangs low.
All at peace,deep asleep.
Chaos is the woven dreams,
Mistakenly ventured into the Forbidden Lands.
Chaos is the mistaken norms,
That presided over her throne,
Chaos is the new door standing ajar,
Let the children run into the fields of May...

Saturday, July 21, 2007

To love Fear is to Fear None...

Swallowed by the Sands of Time,
Basking in the Shadows of Hands of Time,
Swept in that are the seconds gone by,
When I had sat,with breathe abated…

In the wallows of Darkness stark,
Encircled by the rings of bark,
Which tell Time---but of Fall alone…
When leaves green turned austere yellow.
Like the blurred flicker of a Mirage.
Mirage majestic,mirages of Life,
Mock my Strife,
With bitterness of this reality.
Galloping Mirages,beautiful mirages,
Bellow my scarf,as my wings embrace them closer…

But this pitch black night,
Engulf my sight,
I am weak,I am blind.

Old lady on the Boulevards of Light,
Smirks at me,but smirks beseechingly.
Old Lady with white cloudy hair,
Trail they do into the Unmarked land of Black lagoons,
Rags of satin,tremble as faces,
Implore they do,Children unbornt,shriek so alone I hear,
Alone my heart shatters to their shrieks of unplayed games,
--On many a night when I crouched upon Solitude’s knees--
While they then all fade away…
Children of Fearsome Nights,all die away…
A breathe a beat,rasping struggles and eternal defeat,
Rattling wind,through shuttered windows,
Reptlian strength strangles the lilac of the night sky....
Till ghastly faces linger
Among tree branches.
Do you close your eyes...when a shaft of light surprises you through the dark?
...Through the shuttered window?

But then…
Tonight when Darkness deem as a depressed soul,
Caged, it cries,in the cage of unlit rooms,
While at the corner of mine,
A vase that stands,never had a bloom,
Shall breed.
Watch how the Dusk creeps and crawls up high,
Feeding upon Sun’s pride,till it shines,
No more…
Behold,the throne of Mother Night,
Overtaken is Mother Nature,
Old is past,night shall triumph,
And Demons to Nature shall now redeem.

The glassmirror beside the Clock of Time
Is but another hourglass itself.
Reflect it does my lonely hours, as addiction to pain pills
Meander into pain confessed.

In this Dark,hark my emptiness,
Shall be rewritten in ink black.
I need no sight,I am blind.

No Night is black if you look up to the star-studded skies at 2,
One day mauve,another pink,hues shift like the Fall of leaves green.
Like a black drop in your tears,a smeared scarlet space
Of blood endearing loss in love,vigor in defeat, serendipitous pain
A black drop once,now the life that runs through your and mine veins.

Out of the Darkness,into the smallness of moon on my floor,
Shall be bound the Old woman in rags,
Witch of all Time,burnt be at stake
I lick the black flesh of Darkness.
My wait is over,my breathe whistle out,
The Shadows of Time has passed this Fearsome Night,
Dawn twitters,petals unfurl,
I am bitter,as at my feet thy shadow curls...into nothingness..
But...Shadows of the Hands of Time shall renew regime,
Speak I shall to the old lady on the boulevards of Light.
In my kingdom of Night.
Past the Twilight...
After midnight....

Friday, July 13, 2007

Feather from my Angel

Painting in colors of dreams--
Dreams though,they say are colorless--
A canine being sees grey red,and silver grey yellow,as;
Finding solace in the depths of the pillows,
I'm a painter who paints.
Artsy.Full of disdain.
Drinking from the Lake of sorrow,
Sorrow they say is a dry emotion.
Lake Avenue,without a Lake.
Embracing the serene abysmal darkness,
I'm a digger who digs up springs.
Springy.Shone by shadow in the face.
Then a scratch on the dream-canvas,
Tears tumble from the Lake.
Dissolving all that was colored apart.
Just a scratch.
Everything else is so beautiful.
But the scratch.
In the wrong place.Water spurt in my face.
Shadow in my face...walk in my pace.

Then Angel from the haven of the Forgiven,
Come to me.
Angel's wings envelop the sky.
I cant see the dark sky.
I thought I was dreaming.I thought...
It was night.

Angel.You blind me.Let me see.
I struggle,against the dazzle of Light.
Bright Light.

And then I open my eyes.
And I see...
Feather plumes embellishing the scratch,or...
A feather disguising the scratch,or...
a Feather in its place.
Feather from my Angel's wings... save all my dreams.
A humble the Lake.
Just a feather...
To live to tell the Story of my mistake.

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Writing in a Forgotten Diary........

Life's gud...
Or so it is when I want it to be...
When I have nothing else to want.
Boredom makes one restless,and yet...
Too lazy to do anything about it.
You wanted to know,right?
The daytime TV told me I need to lose twenty pounds,
Look at me and tell me,do I?
I have changed much since last you knew me.
My hair is longer,I tried getting silver streaks,
Ended up losing hair.
See that dress?Remember your 16th birthday?
It used to be pink.
Now its all peach.Time bleaches.
Sometimes erodes, my study-table,
Under the eternal electric lamp.
Whose phone number are you looking for there?
Crazy Pinky?
Works at a bar in Mumbai.
Or the Gloom-Queen Usha...perhaps...?
I dont know...but she's not here.
Their adresses aren't here.I keep them away from the lamp.
The Light.
Dont take me wrongly.Its just that...
Something may happen and they may catch fire.
But...yet,I have lost touch with all old friends?

Got a fag?
Sorry,I see you're surprised?
I went up and down the fagging alley,
Dont worry.I've quit.
Won't ask for your cigarette.
Dont worry.
You were wanting to know about my life...I think...

I have ceased being a healthfreak.That twenty-pound thing was just for looks.
Nothing medical.
I have lesser cough-bouts now though.Great,isnt it?
Why the long face?
I was talking about my other kind of cough.Not the smoker's...
Remember how I used to find it hard to breathe....
How I'd gather the air about I was drinking them...
I almost forgot to tell you.
They chopped off that Tree we had a midnight chewing-gum feast on.
(Yes,I tried...believe me.)
Followed by me catching a cold that made me miss...
The Year-book photoshoot.

I wasnt really drunk that day.
You dont believe I drink,do you?
Just very sick...tripsy with tiredness.
I know I said so,but it wasnt so...I swear...on...
On our time-capsule in my backyard.
Its probably destroyed by the flood by now,anyways.

I have new friends now.
They dont like pink.
But Pink is all I have.
They wear skulls and pirate rings.
Tacky,I know.But they're friends.
They say pink suits me,so does black.And yellow,and red.
So they're friends.
We prowl the strangest places at the quaintest times of the night.
Nude-feet and alcohol our comrades.
Oh,yes...I do drink now.
But you should come with us...One day.
Where did you go?
You wanted to know about my life,now....
Didnt you?

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Smoke escaping Fire---Fortress Conquered.

Beauty is a ring of smoke in an ivy sky... do...rise up high,
Wind,oh,Wind,wherever you lie,
Watch it rise,watch

Pity the December Green Lake ice,
Burn it cant,smoke,not its accomplice,
Breathe against it,a smoky breathe,misted
In droplets of Life.
Bellows on the willows,
Proliferating moss,
Encircled and abandoned them,
To tickle the leaves.
Watch it learn...
In Peace.

With the doleful hoot of an owl through the boughs--
Rearing a mast,an anchor unearthed,
To the music of a sea,sailed a dingy,
Just Married,it says.
Clouds of this earth,swinging in the sails.
Baleful winds,watch from afar,
Watch the blood of a burning star.
Love and Light,
All in sight,
Sing to their joys,
Till collides...
Love and Light.
All collide.

A dingy of willow-leaf,
Where ant sleeps,
Rest is all they need.
Before its journey on the Wind,
---Or was it Smoke?--
Staggers and halts,
Its again soiled
Home to the creepers and weeds.

Then the dingy stops again,
Wind is no more,in the tranquil ocean.
The air smells of nothing at all.
Dried is the rain.
Lightyears bloat to measure the dingy.
To see what the sailors cant see.
The distance,the loss,the silence that cries...
At night,with the wind in its hair.
Dawn--the Sun burns in its glare,
Whatever dewdrops remained...
Upon Their foreheads,scorchmarks paint,
Their Fate is in the beauty of the Smoke.
Did you cry when it rose...

Far below....the ivy sky,
Far below where the wind lies,
Far below,Wind,where you can see,
A fire crackles.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Rain drops on my home....

The rain sings,
Mellow brings,
And mud,acrid, cringes,
In shifting footprints.
Little boy impinges,
On his muddy tinges,
Rainy hints,
For fear of home.
Blithe,and wet,he is home.

Candlewind foretells
A storm,to be heard soon.
And in the rain,the silent sane,
Dares to look up to the moon.
Little boy,scared of dark,walking with rain
Streaming down his face,
Alone and challenged by the dark,livid bright,
Hear the music of his pace.
Before the saints had sinned to know Sin,
The rain washed away all their
Muck.Now the rain,deranged,in pain,
Beats down on window panes,in silent prayer.
Evangeline,putrid,shy, pelting down on my home.
Little boy comes back home like it never rained tonight,or before.
My angel,with broken wings,bring me back to earth.My sight
Is wounded,my hands are scorched.
Steal,I beg,away my extinguished torch,
For in it,only memories,burnt smoke remain,
As I wait...
For the next train.
Away from home.
As I wait...
Till it stops to rain...
As I wait...

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Ode to the Blissfull

The battle is over.
Craters Litter,
My bed.
The petals are singed,
Wisps of undaunted narcotics hover.
Waltzing with smoke,dust and gunpowder.
Hope is the fraternity of innocence.
My hope this night is unhinged.
Love is bright,love is sweet.
In its wake,lies my pride's bitter defeat.
Somewhere the drizzle of a lightning,
Beckons at my loss,for some gain.
Somewhere in the duststorm of lost promises,
In the tangy tangibility of last gasps and graces...
The battle is over.
I am weaker.
But I am stronger still.

The battle is over.
Diseases and survivors,
I am...
A sole moon in the western sky,
A chaste bloom in a leafless bough.
When all is well,all is sound
Is when shatters my supreme crown.
Is when my rubied sword falls.
My invasion stands lofty tall.
'Lo the horizon though the wisps are awake,
Towards my home I will make.
When my pride,meek,is dead.
In barren land my bereft throne bled,
Pity the souls blinded in faith,
To love and lose,and rendered insane.
Your victory is my end.

So celebrate this holy night,
So back home,that i might,
Look up to see a new address,
Embellish my dome-an unsullied dress.
Pure and white,
The smokes lie.
I am ever sober.
The battle is over.

Thursday, May 24, 2007


They're watching…
Before the frosty rays emanating from the Sun,
Over the eternal city light studded crown,
The city lights that stand lofty over and run,
The radiance of darkness down,
So fire-beetles forget their destiny and insipid,
Their purpose seems to find places whither in fairy-tales,
When deceptions sips on the blood of their bruises,
Oh the Sun, does it not know it's the City!
Does it not know when they're watching?
When in mid-December, their watchtowers stir,
For that is when, nigh, their breathes held high,
They sigh together.
They're watching, oh world,
Their maddening stare rips every soul, who have wronged,
Grips every hand that's killed, or hurt,
Sips poison in engraved goblets.
Yes, they're watching...
Do not move, do not speak,
Or kindle and live.
You do not have the right to that.
Be watchful…
They're always watching.
Faces of the children of the bereaved…
Ever watching…
Grieving mothers,
Faces of the daughters and sons of the ocean,
Watching, watching…ever watching…
Eyes of the heaven…
They're watching

Nervous wreck

The results are out.
And the humble beginnings of the Darkmaster
Beckons but at me with growing claws,
And I muster
The courage to hold his hands.
For,in it yet,
The dissolving pink rays
Of the hood of the drowning Sun
Lost and disarrayed,
Evokes,it,the echoing clink of the mangles,
But lullaby,
It is to a blue baby.
Lullaby for the children of the well,
For the sleepy Sun...

Here,upon my throne I sit,
Under darkness,ominous,beset,
In it a balden eagle shrieks nigh,
Shattering the heart of the sky,
That mirrors the waves and the lands,
And the moon in the sands,
In this mirror I see myself naught,
Does anyone remember the road
That strays them to be lost?
A perfect darkness is perfect within,
The wild penumbra of a flame licking,
Enshrouding a garden,
Of blooming shadows,
Shadows of one shade,
Lest I show.
Their dispersed beauty,
Like an awkward silence,
Between soulmates,
At first glance.

And here,upon my throne I sit,
Where Mother Darkness cajoles me,
And into her heart,I see...
On her dusky shoulder,
I weep.


Dim Light,Dim,

The world is reflected off in steely gazes.
As I wallow in being yet alive in flesh,
The dose wasn't enough,it hurts,
I'm caught up in a unfitting dress,
The mesh of Everything,
Everything I disowned,
And Nothing I owned.
I still have to go,...

Walk in the dress under the Fated Dome.
Lit not in moonlight,nor of heaven,not even hell,
Trembling like first-sprout leaves in rain,
In candles of black flames,I see no reflection in the mirror,
There isnt even a pucnture on my throat,
The dose wasnt enough,
So I still walk.

It thrusts me,onto the porch,gnashes my dress ,
Bathes me in blood of the fortunate mourned for,
I dare not drink,lest it make me immortal,
The coffin was too small,
My dress too long.
I'm still undead,
I'm still not alive.



The sun was growing smaller,

Unfurling black holes unto Death,

I know.

And I await,with abated breathe,

Her Nemesis to seduce her from the

Face of dying Earth;

I know.

I know I wont live,

Wont even be a phantom,

Phantom I am now---

A mere flicker in this Kingdom,

The living kingdom of Death;

I know.

If only light years could be years,

Enlightened,untouched by tears

And seconds could be the distance

Between Them and Me,

I see,I foresee---

When humanity will die,

When fleeing winds will cease to sigh,

The butterflies could fly,

And not be feared by the boy I love,

If only there was a sole place for love,

I could be a phantom,

The Phantom of the Opera,

But by her death bed,

True tears I could shed,

I could be my last unfinished business,

Bidding adio to Her Nemesis,

From the other dying kingdom of Death.

But I know .

As the sun grows colder,

The universe, infinite,for distance...

Between Them and Me.

I sit in my corner,

Struggling to block the scorching summer,

Awaiting impatiently the onset of winter,

With abated breath,

In the kingdom of Death,

Awaiting .....the onset of My Nemesis.

Penny wise Wiser

Penny Wise…Wiser.

Penny bolted up the arching gateway cutting across her neighbour's spruced lawn,the moment her own garden came into view from the pavement she had restricted her pathway from school to home to.
Everyone greeted her with the warmest humane touches conceivable…well, for something as non-Homo sapiens as plants!
Sarah spread out her tendrils and caressed every inch of Penny uncovered by her Gujarati print top and jeans. Little Tim cocked his head and reached out with his little cuticular branches for Penny's attention to seek.
David, the stubborn old one remained resolute, and moody that Penny had even thought of leaving them…but melted in her touch and bent forwards to tickle her ears…
In her garden, no one was nameless. Nobody was just a plant…
But the irony was…they weren't just plants either. They were weeds. Weeds that her neighbors had scorned at, and at Penny for indulging in their growth .Weeds that her mom had long given up trying to persuade her to exonerate their backyard of. Weeds that Prerna Gupta,commonly called Penny, found exotically beautiful.They, with their purple-eyed petals with smidgens of green and yellow here and there, she felt were some unknown work of art of God that somehow got derailed on their way from factory to the House of Pretty Things. But Penny had revived them, and loved them, and named them.None deserved to be nameless and unloved.She called the whole house of these forsaken beings Flowers. Just Flowers.
"Penny?" A once- pretty woman in her thirties, whose sagging shoulders and eye-bags made no secret of her recurring sleepless nights, stood framed by Penny's Flowers.
Penny's Mom was another thing, another stop at her wonderland. She never ceased to smile when she began talking.For the times they had had together, they had played rain flutes, slept under the stars on the sands of the beach,gone on midnight runs through the woods on the outskirts of the town, and had made shapes, and slowly matured to discerning Bangkoks and Hoolahoola Town up among the clouds of the sky. Penny never ceased to believe when her mom was around. That was when she begun to believe…
She believed that ants,when they touched mouths in a trail between a source of sugar and ant-nest ,actually conversed in Antlish.
She believed that the wooden cupboards could still feel it if you chop them.
She believed her life was a pyramid where everystone just fit in and gradually came together as it ascended, and terminated at the peak, with a single stone.
That's what her Mamma told her to believe…
Presently as her mom stood there looking like the ideal idol of Penny's hero, Penny looked up from her Flowers, smiled and followed her in.
"Someone's here." Her mother had an odd simpering tone.
Penny walked to the door and there stood a girl from her school, Sandra.
"Hi, Penny! I just thought I'd let you know about this play we're doing this fall. And Mr.Burnette, recommended you for a part. I won't say more. I have the script here though."
"Oh…" No one in her entire life in America had ever come to their house, and since they didn't have a phone, Penny basically severed all connections with school the moment she left that building. Her only reminder was homework.
Sandra peered at her expectantly.
"Um,come in."
Sandra nestled on the couch in the living room. It was less of a couch and more of a patchwork on a chair. But Sandra fingered it with an fascinated air. That boosted penny's confidence .Better much.
Sandra held out a thin booklet.
Penny took it and immediately began leafing through the pages. Principally it was projected to avoid looking at Sandra. But words stood out.Strange.Outcaste.Detached.
Somehow the words made a 'strange' impression on her 12 year old mind. She didn't have much of vocabulary…but even so, they lingered and tickled some quiescent emotion.
Finally Penny raised her eyes to find an empty couch. Some inner instinct told her to panic. And she did! Big time!
She screamed, "San---Sandra?" She warped through the hallway---there was a deliquescent smell about that hallway…always had been. But today it gave Penny Goosebumps. Somewhere ahead shuffling footsteps echoed up to her. She followed it, and gradually her brisk footsteps silenced to tip-toes. And where was Mom!?
What had happened!? She shouldn't have had let anyone in. People didn't just pop up on their porch everyday! What if something had happened to her Mom! She would never forgive herself!
She rounded a curve and came upon a sight that exceeded her fears extensively…and it nauseated her. Her Mom and Sandra. And they were laughing…her mom was laughing; like Penny had seen her once in a blue moon lately!And Sandra was holding up one of the vases her Mom made…
Penny could be a very sulking child when it came to sharing her Mom.It wasn't that she was a jealous type or anything,but just that,when her mom said that Penny was all she has,she believed it.She was all Penny had.
When the Guptas had come to US,almost two years ago,Penny thought she was the luckiest of all her road-side cricket and football friends back home,but fate has a way of unwinding when life has been wound to the near-highest point 9.9.
One fine morning,Penny woke up to find her mom clutching her face,gawping at the TV screen where…
Something was on fire,…no, something had collapsed,…no, people were falling from the sky….
The only thing Penny could discern for certain was the trauma that emanated not just from the scenes,but also her mother's face,her shining eyes,…the blood-stained silence of victims,and blood-stained faces of people crying over bloody bodies…blood,blood…and more blood….everyone was a victim.
The date was 9/11/2001.
They had to overcome the grief a little too soon.Just like millions of people had to;to stay up nights after night,to evade sleep,and the consequent haunting memories in the shape of dreams of the bleeding nation,to go away on long drives to distant themselves from the room,the aura,the lingering scent of the ones who were future in a not-so-distant-past,now the past themselves…
The subsequent national security policy precluded them from returning to India,for a while,and even afterwards,it seemed that as Penny and Jessi Gupta had come to US as J2,that is dependant on Rahul Gupta's passport,or something of as complex structure as it seemed to Penny's young mind,they couldn't leave as yet,without complicated procedures.One day Jessi Gupta returned home in tears.She had been out to make international call to her hometown.That scared Penny to death! Her mom was stronger than anyone she had seen,ever!
It became apparent that nobody back home was willing enough to help,---believing that might engulf them into the potential terrorist list or something as stupid,no doubt!, Penny thought angrily! Both Jessi's parents were long dead,leaving her orphan,which probably accounts for her infinite strength,of mind,and also why Rahul fell so overtly in love with that bespectacled and unstylish damsel who studied like a complete geek, with a 100% scholarship at Calcutta University.Penny's only living grandparent was her paternal grandma,and the sole in-law who borne Jessi into the Gupta family with honest acceptance and more than---a wisp of a woman.Like a expansive white wisp of smoke.All white.And all wispy.And so were her opinions and feelings regarded by everyone…wisp.
One day, having moved from their old house to a run-down house on the outskirts of Manhattan,NY,while attempting to convert the damp domicile into a inhabitable home,Penny asked her mom,about any further developments for returning to India,Jessi froze,then slowly approached her daughter and told her,that they didn't need to return to India,that they had nothing to return to,that she had some great ideas about what she could do here,---she could start with a vase-selling business,and then try to polish her English up,and then she'd be as good as any freelance writer,for it was her ability to express herself that earned her the title of a prize Bengali literary scholar,not just the language itself, at the same time,for she was a good with her hands,be it writing or sculpting.She was trying to convince herself,even Penny could see that…
They didn't need anyone.Penny had to agree.
She had started school at Ridgeview Junior High,and instantly knew it was going to be one long struggle.Through the entire school life!
It probably would have been made easier had all the seats at the cafeteria not been hitched for someone or other,and she didn't have to share her lunch with conversing ants,among the grass.Or,if Ron Shelby didn't have to trip her everyday,every two periods when she's approach her locker to exchange books for the next two periods.Or if, Amanda wouldn't have revealed to everyone that Penny talked to ants at 12.Or if,some of the girls hadn't found her in the restroom singing 'Ki brishti,ki mishti…" and even dance in step,making a total fool of herself.Or,if she wasn't such a good student to top it all of,for adding the geek factor to her dorky disposition.Or,if….maybe,maybe,just maybe,,,if she had made some effort to blend in,to lose the Indian-looking clothes,the Bengali music,and for once,once,she opened her mouth and said 'hi' to someone.But the moment she'd find someone staring at her,and looking away whenever she made gestures of advancement,she'd lose all the surging urge.She had a hunch it had something to do with her dad being a victim to 9/11 a few months within their arrival here,and them being South-east AsiansBut fact was,she knew it was partially her fault too.But she didn't care.She just didn't.She was sad,at first after her father's death,then as time flew by,the sorrow became replaced by a permanent anger,a made fury at the whole world,the universe that conspired so against her mom and her….She hated them,hated them all! But,not her Flowers….
A week after Sandra had dropped by their dumpling home, someone slammed a magazine onto Penny's desk.Thats how people passed her things.They slam it.The school weekly.US---Underneath the Students "Foreign communities among us…like Prerna Gupta….her mother's vase-selling business that has descended to the pavements among the Billyhoos….others less under stress is our janitor's son…---Sandra Hachet" .The words sprung up to her face like white-hot scorched beetles…striking her face cold….
She was barely aware of her classmates shamelessly pointing to her, whispering behind their neighbors' ears, and heard snippets of conversations like "I hear they're like really poor…I hear they live on a broken down house her grandfather once owned…no, I hear they have a jungle in their backyard…My mom says her mom's real weird…Someone told me they drink from the lake….". She was standing hidden from view by her locker-door, but fuming she slammed it shut, but only to provoke another comment "Her mom's a psycho…"
"Yeah,my mom's a big psycho and we're all real poor and poor people are mean and if you don't shut your trap she's gonna come and get you in your sleep! You lousy no-good weasel…" Penny had stridden upto that boy and spit in his face. And her clenched fists were already swooping up to make contact with the boy's jaws ,had it not been for someone big and burly to pin her arms back and drag her away.
The big someone turned out to be her Principal, who locked the door, and turned to her with furrowed eyebrows.
"Considering your situation ,miss, you should know better than to get yourself into any fights or anything that might affect your mother,as she's already…" He trailed away,and produced a fake cough,blinked at Penny for a fractional second,coughed again,and the resumed, "Anyways,point is… What do you have to say for yourself!?"
Penny pursed her lips. She had a lot more than he could envision 'to say for herself'. She wanted to tell him that she had no 'situation'that she was just like any girl,like his daughter,but they were he were one of the ones acting all freaky and shoving her away.She wanted to tell him that they had it all wrong,that her mother's profession never touched what she had grown up to be,her mom was too cool to do that to her,that she was the bravest person she had ever seen,and far and better off than the home-maker moms who kept to home and got fat.And she wanted to scream at him that she was just another girl,but like everyone else she had her differences in little ways,the very proxy for distinguishing Egyptian mummies and human beings.She wanted to yell at him,cry,and tell him to open his eyes and listen to himself.She looked at him with his eyes propounding a pregnant silence from her part,urging her to end it already.
"Nothing sir. Nothing."
The day disregarded the space-time continuum and froze and passed by in a daze. Like a horrible perpetuating nightmare it drifted off till it found Penny walking down the gravel-covered archway through the backyard. It wasn't till she saw her mom looking extra-pretty in an autumn lipstick and lilac scarf and holding a cup-cake that had a candle on it,that she remembered it was her 13th birthday.
Somehow that thought drew her out of the trance that her whole day had swinged into,and that brought back the suppressed fury that had been suffocating within her,the memory of the ticking moments when she had watched as if from a distance,a discrete existence,her Pyramid go crashing to the sands as someone had pulled out a stone and the first rational thing in her irrationality, that occurred to her ,was to and she did ,charge
towards the Flowers in a mad rage and begun uprooting them…Sarah, Little Tim, David…all.

Her Mom rushed down the steps dropping the cake, and pulled Penny towards her by her shoulders, shaking her as if to get a loose globule of sense back in their places in her head.
"Stop! Stop! What are you doing!? Sweetie!"
"They're weeds! They should know better than pretend to be flowers! And how dare I let them think they're flowers! How dare I! How dare they! How…" Penny was breathing heavily.
"Oh dear, what did they say!?"
Penny paused in her furor,turned to look at her mother's face, her own stained with muck and tears. She looked into her eyes and whispered in an unusually serene voice, "They just told me I needed to de-weedify my garden.".
Jessi stared at Prerna,perceiving beyond the words…
"Well, they may be right…from the common point of view…but---" Her mom pointed to what remained of the Flowers, "--- hey, look at them, aren't they just pretty? It would be a shame to lose them when they're just as pretty as any rose or lily…I mean, so what if they're of a different kind…doesn't matter…And they grow by themselves, they don't need anyone…so much easier…" Penny looked at her mother cock-eyed…her mother was talking feverishly, and fast, as if to not to waste anytime to let her daughter know that it was alright.It was ok.
"Mom!? Mom!?" Penny spoke as gently as possible but to bring her mother out of her spell.
Her mother looked up at her daughter's face and it seemed to have aged far beyond her years.
Wiping her face,she had only one thing to say to her daughter---
"Happy oh…Prerna. Happy birth..oh my Penny. Happy Birthday."
They say,you have to say Happy Birthday three times,to make it really happen,in the true sense of the term where age in one's mental and physical world must merge,giving rise to manifestation of the word maturity which itself is a relative term ,as a tadpole loses its tail to become a frog ,while some develops the same to attain adulthood.
But fact---it had already happened.For our little heroine,Prerna Gupta.Only that doesn't make her so little anymore.
Does it?

Story unto thee Story

>before you proceed, please note,that this is a random story that I just felt like composing,might contain reflections of my life,but otherwise,not worth reading<
The song is playing like a brooke out of water... has no tone for the shuttered faces to hear,yet it plays the sweetest eyes close shut as we dance along...tune to tune...swinging rhythmically, the slowness of a misty winter morning in our touches ,the fire of a 10 o'clock Sun in our hearts, entrapping the essences of life, the infinity in our embraces...the scent of the rain-drenched evenings on the scorched diase in the demolished ol' fifties cafe...yet the colors would be etched across the undersurface of our eye-lids.
We were old then, we thought we would never get back the lights on, the cafe was torn down,and the dj was a crazy old man chasing the dogs down the streets.
We were old then, our hair were white, we had thought we would never meet again. We had the mere photos ourselves in our hands to seek solace from the son and daughter-in -laws disgusted maneuvering around our bed-pans every morning and day.
We were old then. We had no inkling of what we looked like, I had given up looking at mirror since the last he whispered between kisses, I was beautiful.
We were old then, the broken teeth of the crunchie hair-band he had slipped into my hair the first time he proposed saying that he had preserved it since the day I had left it at his home, the first time I had been there with my girlfriend, lay between my tears at night the warmth of bedsheet, right under the pillow, the strings come loose every day,now consisted of a handful few ones, red,yellow,and a brown one,---brown,the color of his eyes, the way they used to look into mine, like breaking the water-surface and taking a long-yearned for breathe or,like being breathless yet alive underwater itself.We were old,then. The world had parted us, my white clothes held more color than my lips.His son yet had no clue who he was. The bastard ,father had married me off to disclose the birth of our son,our gift from heavens. The way he had cuddled him ,held his minuscle fingers between his fingertips,like tipping delicate cashmere silk , and had brought tears to my eyes, ....taking me back to the day we made love for the first time...his every touch,his every breathe on my neck, his clumsy but passionate caressing..of my being,my soul,my heart...I never believe we would have to leave. I never did, forgive me.
But we arent old anymore.
We were old,not anymore.
Where the olds become young, where time travels back,where memories happen for the first time in future...thats where we had flown to, we had flown to where we could be together...where the brooke could sing without water and the sun could be up at night,and moon hung from our trees....thats where.....

Sulekha--The Story

Sulekha...the story ...

Sulekha left us a few days ago,...but I still feel her existence in every fibre of this every nook and corner...her erratic breathing...her round-the-year cold ,...her sweet occasional laughter...I miss her like anything! And I would probably do anything to get her back....but she's lost...lost to the other world...

No she's not dead. Indeed she's probably more healthy than ever ,now,more beautiful than all those whiles when I used to envy her pretty face. I used to envy her....

But deep down,we all know envy comes from admiration,...her brains,her beauty,her everything....she was this perfect girl.And when mom would praise her,even pull her cheeks,a habit mom had mastered very well,and which I resented at all times,...even I ,MOI,would fume go green with envy,and if she continued, further would proabably have had been too happy to have my cheeks pulled all day,even at the cost of having my pimples popped in the process !

I feel ashamed.

She was the only one ,who knew when I first fell in love,I would talk on the phone,oblivious of her,and she would cast me a wise "dont think I dont know what you're on about" and I would ignore her,at least pretend to,and then burn beet-red that she knew my SECRET! Oh no!

When younger ,when she came into my room,when I was asleep,I would peep ,a half-open eye,and spy on her,she would never look at my clothes,...she used to look wistfully ,at my barbies,and I would go yellow, with excitement,...what next,...she would brush a hand over my Rapunzel's long hair, twirl a finger through my Fashionella's purse, ...and that was it , I would be so disappointed...that I didn't have any excuse to complain to Mom.

There was a Deo-spray in the downstair bathroom ,which I never used.

It would probably have rotten there.Except She used it,and not knowing how,as it was,---a special sort from America,..I doubt I knew myself how to,might explain why I never DID use it!---,and she had messed up and wound up applying it on her whole body,so that she smelled like hydrogen sulphide .I did complain to Mom.She couldnt do anything about it.But I accomplished my goal. I had made a bad impression about her in Mom's mind.

When I broke a cup,it was blamed on her.... whereas ...I broke it....

When the lipstick went missing,the foundation kit was broken,it was her name on everyone's mind...later it was found somewhere in the bottom of mom's purse...

When the phone bill went high,it was her calls that everyone would look into....when that month was the month, we had been spending huge time talking on phone,cuz,of our newly healed relationship with Uttam Mama!

And when Mom's worst enemy,her mother-in-law came,the source of all politics was granma,and the key,was Her. Her.Her.Her.

And then she left. Now there's a rumour going around,that she's a prostitute.Some say,she was lured into it.Some say she went into the business of her own accord.And either way,she's earning it big...after all with beauty like hers...why shouldnt she?...the beauty I envied...the beauty I created a monster of...the beauty I destroyed....

I still feel her in every corner of this house. Her calm acceptance of Fate.

Of everyone blaming her, she stayed silent even though she knew it when she was being blamed for something I did , I!

I created a monster. But I know I'm not alone.

There are many monsters out there,like myself,...making monsters ...but staying undercover like the angels...who "care"... I was 11 then,..,but I know some things reflect your true nature no matter what!

And ,it reflected the true envious,rotten mind i had....

I could curse myself all day long,till time ended, ad infinitum. I could try to ammend my mistakes,by trying to better myself. I am trying. Trust me.

And at times,I even wonder why any boy would even like me,leave alone love me,why Anwesha still calls me her best friend,...Me..the narrow-minded teenager I was...maybe still am...I never know...No one is consciously narrow-minded!

But the damage is all done. Sulekha's life is ruined.And I am willing to take credit for the great deed. But her road has met an end with more green,red,yellow,lights for me, or for anyone.She's gone. Gone where they all go. And when it comes down to it. She had no flaw. She was perfect. Smarter,prettier ,more thoughtful than any girls in my whole year put together!

She was ethical,she was honest,she was a good friend.

Then why her? Why not me?

I deserved her fate more than her!

I do!

And as much as a coward as I am, at least in this case,I do admit,I deserve her fate a full 100% !

But she's gone,and so are the lights ,its dark, suffocating...and all I can do is regret....all I can do is ....REGRET!


Towards me she walks

In breathy silence,

Her lips in a sneer , it seemed...

Playful, but not juvenile,

Pulling me towards her,

Closer...ever closer

No matter how I try to hold back

From the crack of the sky

She whispers behind my back.

She awakens in me,

From a millennial lumber,

Rippling like the misted

Silhouette of an Early Rider,

Set for this journey she will

Accompany me,

To the land of Unbound Bliss.

On my first love she blows me a kiss!

She lives in me,

Looking over me,

Through red-rimmed eyes,

She always sees,

Picking me up, my broken pieces;

Against a cold old storm,

Against a dark starless night,

For me she always cries.

Hovering over my existence,

She pulls me in an embrace.

She'll survive as me

Beyond my touch, my trace.

She'll live in Them, as Evanescent Me,

In her hyaline curves, her divine grace!

She'll walk as me.

Towards millions unnoticed, untouched,

Their tears of faith she will rid

Yet today, towards me she walks,

For the destiny unfulfilled.....