Thursday, December 30, 2010

Thoughts on 2010?

I'm just glad its over.

Thoughts on 2011?

As anything but the last one.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Scribbles

I have a vision.
I will pull my braids,
Hold onto a red-hot curler
Get a pen and paper
And pretend I'm tired of all the thinking.
I have a reason.
The letter did not come,
Trashcan's overflowing
I'm sick of the sound of heater
And the doorbell's musical and it's still ringing.
I have a question.
When will the chocolate melt,
What is that patch still doing on my pillow
Where is the goddamn river
And how do you take photos without blinking?
I have a lesson.
The yelling does not help
I will never grow taller,
The skies are the opposites of mirrors
And the dog will always bark when I'm talking.

Upon the 52nd week...

Its the Resolutions week again.

Here and there,on a virtual or real scrap of paper,they're all jotting down their quintessential inklings of what a resolutions' list should resemble.As I would myself.A pen,a scratch and a trail of stars to rate the priority of each n-th mostly-yet-unfulfilled resolution.A quintessential bridge of procrastinated and dud leftovers that will be recycled into the list for the next next year...and the next...till a year,perhaps like my 2010-11 should be staged for allowance of those void resolutions into a final reckoning that they'll never happen...they'll always retain that bad habit or that emotional quotient that will make them who they are today...are and to stay.

And perhaps I don't want to become a changeling to the mother of my brainchild...

So,my only resolution this year?
Can't say I'm a perennial river and neither does life follow a path etched in the sands...
So...Nothing.Nothing for me...New Year Santa.Nothing this year.
Nothing.

                                                        ------------x---------------

N.B:~*oh,but I shall try to be better to myself!I promise.Amen!*~

Monday, December 20, 2010

Pray.Till.The.Day.

Toddler's know their way,
A path of their own;
Slower the night will fall
Sooner music will be gone.
The drumbeats will recede afar
And the snowfall will never begin,
This city will always be
A dumbbell's call to the heaven.
Will there be a day to pass
Without it passing you first?
Will there be a second to last
Without it lasting a second on your past?
There will always be that day
When the days will turn
And nights will wane,
There will always be those nights
When days will burn
And nights will pray...
Pray and pray,
Pray till the day
The sofas and the beds
Are buried under their own weights
Pray and pray
Pray till the night
The tables and the chairs
Are scorched for light....

We'll pray in that light.
For the day.Till that day.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

December Man

Cold forget-me-not feet,
Hushed sugar-sweet-touch, 
Golden glassy-eyed rays, 
Mist-breath on mirrors and glass-panes, 
A ripple of goosebumps at the very end...
Call it December again...
Where my story began.

A phuchka everyday,
In A-line skirts,and wrinkled hems
Long-awaited tamarind sprinkle to my name
Everyday, the last bell
A cue to the man who made our dreams
Livid enough to colour in the edges
With our hard-earned five bucks

And perhaps an extra phuchka
With salted smile to tear-stricken pages.


The weathered frays of that sidewalk has left,
No more are the hoarding ladies
With their graffitied marker-pen specs,
Yet our feet still knock on the craving doors
Of a loose pavement tile,
A new pavement tile heaven...


But the man of our dreams does live on....
Another face, a deviant tamarind song,
To new many names, and more faces...
But the haven is still our haven,
Of December dreams,
Of innumerable school shoes
And cold forget-me-not feet...
And A-line woes.


Almost as if...the new December man
Knew we would return 
Someday
With a broken heart, 
Or shreds of a name,
Too broken to be broken again...
To call it...our December again...

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Because I just felt like coming up with a "Quote"

If there is something wrong with our breathing and we cannot move,it means there is blood trapped in our chest.
If there is something wrong with our thinking and we cannot change, it means there is a clown trapped in our head.
Bottomline, to live better you gotta let it all out.No perversion intended.