Unbruised

Walking along the shadowy banks
A river coursing through silent hills
Feet wandering in shallow cold waters
Mind humming at the edges of infinity

My river a mosaic of broken glass
A hundred dying suns knitted together
Fake, a fake grandeur
Like the sparkle in moistened eyes deceives

The calm air has a certain tinge
Like the bright hues of melting skies
As I draw forth these painted breaths
I wonder, how sometimes
The world stains us..

Echoes of silence rip off the peace
Of my sacred dome
But outside is a world of sound
Melancholy cries of birds
The soft chuckle of river
Yet somehow
They remain unheard
Like a dried leaf floats on
But the waters unaware

What is this teasing odour of?
Odour of the dark?
Odour of absence?

Is this what it feels to be alone?
A single feeling delving deep?
But deep enough
To bruise the tender inner core

Waves lap the rock
Motionless impression-less
It stands
Through old waters and new
It stands
And so shall I
Must walk unfeeling
And wrap these fragile moments
Hold them in my arms
Close to my heart
So that they lie
Unburned by the sun
Unstained by the sky
Unsmoked by the dark and
Unbruised by absence.



Notes- I was walking along a river bank one evening. I find the evenings most inspiring of all times. This poem is about cherishing happy moments and most importantly safeguarding them from all the bad things that happen in life. Because during tough times memories of happier times give us the strength to keep going.

Death songs

Death songs trickle down my face
like scarlet across feathers white
what scream was that which breached?
the dreams of my flight?

smiles, now broken
slit the throat
beliefs, from dark corners shiver,
the shattered glass
onlooks a million times-
dancing anklets silent forever

in a house ransacked and ruined
I cry inconsolable

they looted something precious.
not breathing, not being
something else made me living
…..I lost something precious

death lived I
but a hint still stays
lingering like a scent
of stale roses in a temple

Coffee Stains

That day,
as you left the room,
you took
all the light with you.

now all that remains -
are the coffee-stains on time-kissed pages
and the dust laden sighs of the lonely table…

The air is still moist
with your words
lips still wet with its wine…..
Was it not yesterday?
that I watched the sun
setting on your face,
and when you opened your eyes
the world was lit again?

Every night as I sleep,
moon-drenched by the window
quietly, the silence burns
in gentle silver flames
leaving behind a tear
in my dream-filled eyes….

the tear falls gently
like December's’s snow
and how it burns a summer in my heart!

too drunk on memories
when the mind becomes
I dance like the wind
barefeet, in desert’s cold sand.
while the sounds of anklets
ravage my world
in modest little storms.

the empty room breathes
heavily
in hollow broken breaths
the faint echoes of your laughter
simply spoil the mood
like a scream of green piercing from a frosted heart!

'coffee stains' is a word I like a lot for some reason (may be it has got to do something with my fondness for coffee). For me it symbolizes memories of happy times, like an old photograph of smiling faces.

The empty room in the poem symbolizes an empty heart. Although it has been portrayed a lot like a lover's lament it actually is about these being the last two months of my college and missing my friends and roomies (leo feo).

The 'burning of silence' symbolizes the quietude and loneliness of the room at night. The 'scream of green' is a new shoot or leaf in the dead of winter.

Abortion

and night fell
slowly
viscous and dark
like a warm liquid
coursing through the skies
while they danced and danced
in ceremonious rhythms
the ancient dance of ecstasy……

came morning
sun-washing all sins
unnoticed in darkness
of your womb
I hung bat-like
a shy pulse
throbbing
for four months,
four months you nursed a mistake
till one day the womb spat it out

under white sterile glare
and hands cold precise
your body yellowed- iodine infected
I lay lifeless formless
a pulp of discarded flesh
grasping rationality

mother did it hurt?
did you moan? did you cry?
did you say?
“What songs she would have sung!
What a woman she would have made!”

Cinderella in Trekking Shoes

Born with a curse,

I speak in-verse,

And here the proof does lie;

Bitter like coffee,

Dark like chocolate,

I ain’t no sugar pie.

Keep it cryptic,

Yet play it straight,

Say it, but say it all;

My stage this world,

Am the spotlight girl,

Rest is illusion all….

Ma luv is in ma curses,

As honeyed as ol’ Brit verses,

Mean a lot more than I could say;

A rhythm in the vein,

No moment mundane,

Living on the ‘edge’ e-veryday.

I like it neat,

But life’s on the rocks,

Living always on a high;

It all seems,

Just like a dream,

And I can’t wait to fly.

Not a deli-cate dame,

Nor the Lord’s ‘tall claim’,

Jus’ an angel who forgot her rules;

Am a river wild and free,

Yet a ‘deviant’ mys-teree,

Like Cinderella in trekking shoes!!

Notes : I got a little bugged with the 'moon-june' poems, you know, the 'beauty of the flowers' and 'how romantic are the stars' types. Had enough of the dark poetry too, people can't seem to die in any newer artistic ways you see. So I thought of trying something 'refreshingly' ugly. Didn't have to go farther than a mirror too. ;)

Rainbow

Beads of nectar

On shivering winter lips,

This morning the rainbow drips.

The jingle of anklets

Of the dancing drizzle,

Is a song I hum in yellow summer.

Beyond the window

At the tip of arched leaves

A thousand galaxies glimmer.

Into the wet world outside

Sauntering through the square hearth,

Eyes brimmed with the tears of June

Rejuvenating the barren earth.

A vision rain-soaked.

Glint from dews

Bright rainbow hues

The sunshine soaked in showers

I pluck gently

Hold them in loving palms

And as I breathe in,

Their fragrance fills a void.

Stealthily,

I'll hide away this rain

In a heart's corner

To balm the scorched summers

Quench the thirst of parch hearts.

This was written in Dec 2004. I don't know what I was doing thinking of rains in the middle of winters, but anyways. The poem speaks about cherishing the good times to live through the tough ones. Sometimes happy memories give us a lot of strength to survive trying situations.

Virgin Heart

The sensuous soft curves of candle smoke
Rising yet melting in the dark,
Mist fairies swaying across lonely lake
Vanishing slowly in mellow morning spark

Your scent’s there somewhere
Amidst the floss of moments apart,
Amidst the gloss of a virgin heart,
Your scent’s there somewhere!

In the kiss of the soothing rain,
In the silence of a moonlit lane,
Why do I seek you?

Oh the elusive evening glow above,
‘tis no birth of beauty
But a sleep of unspent love.

Tantalizing images in the unwatchful eye
Vapour, they vapour
As I try
To touch them, hold them close....

Laughter of dreams is night’s music
Are a gentle blush on her face.
The blessing is a sweet restlessness,
Aching and twisting in their soft caress

But dreams they are
Slip as sand does
From the clutches of realism.
And I am left;
With your scent again
And yet so lonely, yet so reft…



A very special poem for me indeed. I wrote it in my 10th grade. What makes it special is that it was my first romantic poem, something that I still very rarely write and I was honestly surprised to find out that I could compose something like this.