Listen, It Speaks.

Listen, It Speaks.

Unaware of the passing time I lay listening, to the steady beat.

Pounding in my ears, every throb, A word. Its muffled voice reaches me.
Across all the barriers, it speaks to me. Through the cold metal wall, I hear.
Every flutter and pulse. Its changing rhythm to every breath I take. A split now.
A rapid bound next. Telling me not what I was thinking, but feeling. I lay silent.
Quiet. I dare not move. Lest I fail a glimpse. An insight into my thoughts.
A reason behind my actions. A deep breath now, sensing the flood in.
The scents of the world around me, providing for the hungry soul.
The numbness spreads across, as I begin to comprehend.
Its' language, its' message, flowing though my veins.
It is my sole companion from the beginning.
Until the end, when stricken mute.
Leaving nothing behind, but,
Silence. It tells me, now.
Listen, learn and live.
Always love.

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Divinity

Divinity

She is.
The one who hunts.
Tirelessly, with hope.
She seeks.
The dream she begot,
From her womb.
She lives.
Nourished by her desires,
Cheated and betrayed.
She asks.
Will you help her,
find what she lost?
She tells.
Nay, stolen when blind,
For a bargain now.
She demands.
To name a price,
With nothing to give.
She offers.
Her word,
A vow forever.
She warns.
Of a battle,
bloodshed and tears.
She bequeaths.
Her life,
For your alliance.
She trusts.
Your promise,
Shred of naivety.
She pleads.
For her innocence,
And nothing more.

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Ghost

Ghost

I unearth the perished corpse,
Underneath this moonlit sky.
To watch the spirit emerge,
Of a being long gone by.

I whisper a bewitching spell,
To hinder its liberation.
But it flies away, mocking me,
As I question my vain action.

Why bring it back? I ask,
Knowing the answer well.
To be haunted, to haunt.
Afraid to suffer a farewell.

I run after it, possessed.
Aware that misery awaits.
I follow it across the cemetery,
Into darkness, through the gates.

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Running Away

Running Away

Question not this stranger you see,
'Tis not the same you knew before.
It is as it was meant to be,
Believe, the past was a lure.

Keep searching for what was,
Try to find the slightest clue.
Something of a reason, a cause.
Its a realization long over due.

Barricade of fear, denial and an excuse.
Everything should be placidly clear.
It was yet another clever ruse,
To flee from all that are near.

Live with this answer henceforth,
It is an admission of escape,
The story has come to an end.
Shroud it as death with a drape.

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Soul

Soul

It actually dawned on me when a friend said, "It's not enough to just be born there, to call it your town". It was true. It's not enough to just know the history of a place or have lived in a single place your whole life either.

It was about the sense of comfort...It was about feeling at home...

It was about that little stifling giggle you share with your cousin in a store, when the salesman wraps the saree around himself and twirls around telling you how the color combination would suit you perfectly.

It was about going from house to house being offered the same paan leaf with a banana after a varalakshmi vratham and having your face smudged with gandam and red bottu, and still come out smiling after the gazillionth sweet in your mouth.

It was about haggling over prices, trying to convince the man that you've been standing here for hours bargaining and how it was unfair he would make you do that, so it was a legit situation to get a discount.

It was about enjoying a baby's 21st day ceremony and not worrying about having every aspect of your appearance in place because everybody appeared drenched in the smoldering heat.

It was about sitting through the million pooja's in a wedding trying not to fall asleep as it dragged on until 4 am in the morning and still be able to have the best time of your life.

It was about loving the jasmine flowers in your hair, the fried corn dumplings in the evening with your grandparents over a cup of tea, the kajal on the sole of your feet to ward off any 'evil eyes', the sound of children getting ready for school in the morning and so much more...

It is about walking through a place and realizing that there is a memory hidden in every corner...
It is about knowing that you share similar beliefs with the people around you...
It is about appreciating the foundation on which your values are built...
It is about the sense of belonging...

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"Everything comes to us that belongs to us if we create the capacity to receive it"
-Rabindranath Tagore

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My Mystic Counsel

My Mystic Counsel

I bow down my head,
prepared.
Masked behind the lattice,
to confess.
My regrets, my happiness, my sorrow,
my sins.
I know not what is behind the gaps,
sitting silently.
Listening to many disclosures after mine,
before mine.
A still witness to peoples words,
attentive.
I lean forward trying to steal a glimpse,
of my confidante.
The soothing voice reassuring me,
teaching me.
I hold my breath for a verdict,
my punishment.
But I receive nothing but guidance,
never judging.
It has become an unconscious need,
for approval.
From the one that matters,
me.
I gain comfort, I gain solace,
peace.
As I pardon myself and realize,
I am only human.

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Memory Thief

Memory Thief

He chants:

To steal, to keep, time and again.
To create, to weep, time and again.
To sow, to reap, time and again.
To stop, to leap, time and again.
*****************************************


Come listen to this tale I speak,
Of a thief pursuing an age old art.
Beginning to ensnare an orb of fire,
As a skilled master adept at his task.

He proceeds, twisting the sphere craftily,
The flame hisses, its tongue licks his hand,
As he leans forth, diving in head first,
Allowing the red to entangle him in a trap.

The spirited winds surround him now,
As he is launched across the seas,
With none to his name save,
A wavering compass and tarnished plot.

Fully mindful he is to row forth blind,
Amongst the floating wisps of clouds,
He curses the treacherous world,
For what he has to conduct tirelessly.

Islands of reminiscences he sees,
Gliding to the one that entices,
He paddles toward the isle for the day,
Considering the present moment-Past.

He parts with the chilliness in a jolt,
An absent warning, from no one known,
Back into the heat of the pyre when,
He will begin to practice, time and again.

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What was and what will be

What was and what will be

I sat there, staring out into the vast blueness that spread out like a velvet blanket before me. The smooth ripples floated across the surface, as if dancing to an unheard song, while the cool breeze escorted the water, being faithful to the steps of the ballet. They kept in sync together, waltzing to a certain secret rhythm of their own.
I had no clue what I was doing there, witnessing this seemingly clandestine scene. perhaps I was there to calm myself down, to clear my head of the thousands of thoughts running through it, or just maybe to reflect upon the happenings in my life.
Whatever the case, the sight in front of me offered me an abode in which I could seek sanctuary; while I let my thoughts run wild. It allowed me to admire the simplicity with which the world was made; while I tried to untangle the web of my own life.
It was like any other day in the windy city, but for me, it meant so much more. After what seemed like eons, the day had finally arrived. I was conflicted within myself on what to think. I had trained myself, literally entrenched it into my head that after all this waiting, if things didn't work out, I could just simply say "F*** it". I would try again, of course, but I wouldn't let myself dwell on the negative aspect of it.
But what would I think if things did work out?
I saw it beautifully spread out before me... of what life would be like after the confirmation. I knew that this wasn't my entire life, that there were so many other things that mattered more, but I couldn't deny that it was a big part of me. of what I always wanted. Of what I always worked toward.
I thought about all those days I slaved through to just wait for this day. Those countless hours of studying, painstaking waiting on where I would be accepted and wondering when I would be able to begin yet another chapter.
But when I really think about it, my ultimate goal wasn't ever to become a 'doctor' in life. It wasn't what defined me, of who I truly was. It was a part of me, yes. But not ME.
It was about... hmmm... balance...
I suppose it had always been that way and this day was just another reflective moment when I tried to place my priorities together. Of course today mattered a lot, but what mattered most was balance in my life. This fine rope that I walked on, trying not to tip over and get sucked into the whirlpool of chasing after success or falling face down into an abyss of fun, where I never set any goals for myself. If I hadn't done that, I wouldn't be where I was today.
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This piece took shape on another one of those days where I just let my thoughts flow and my fingers obeyed. i just penned down what I heard, felt and sensed. I never finished it and I do not intend on finishing it.
And so, I place it here. Today.

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