come build a fence
come rouse a rage
the home can wait
the regrets so late

there are no shores
just islands few

…and in those dreams
the inhabitants of limbo
touched the wisps of thought
as they formed and dissolved

the sounds of children merged
with raging sirens
as tokens of life
or reminders of impending ends

…now beyond those dreams
a voice calls back to reality
for the inhabitants of limbo
to be awakened now

dust may collect on daring dreams

and doors may hang heavy under dead locks

but you are the life that flows in shiny streams

beyond dear days and timely clocks

The mirror was where our eyes first met that morning. Half a sight of mine was enough to catch your conspiring gaze. The lines I was drawing to dress my eyes went awry as I saw you, languorous and longing, stepping out of bed to make your way to me. Your sleepy eyes took in all of me - the shining eyes, wet hair, suppressed glee and all things that only a lover can perceive. You hinted that undoing has a beauty of its own and I looked to see if the mirror agreed. My pleats followed one another into a silken heap and you then wrapped me in your arms...

The mirror was where our eyes met later that morning. Half a sight of mine was enough to catch your spent gaze. The lines I was drawing to dress my eyes...

a wavering will
is the hardest thing
shivers through shadows
and the self stands still

the bits of being bounced off
your futile hands
they now lie tumbled and troubled
on the staircase
you built to take you nowhere

A friend of many years left the city today to start his program at IMA. He is probably one of the very few from my batch who went the Army way. Calls for admiration, respect and cheers to the times together.

take that frame
right off the wall
the departing illusions
just asked me to stall

May I never hurt more than I can heal.

this journey
one among many
and many among some more
let's look for a shore
let's look for a shore

i am so vague
that i can hardly take
a collage for a mind
with no more glue to bind
the stray squares of thoughts
like random bits of paper they
fly by
waiting to be held together
firmly onto the grey sheets
to patch the spilling psyche
to cage the captive birds
to string the floating words

i can
face an ocean
but not that door
it opens into life
you know

i can
see that door
bit excess of ajar
little short of inviting
it bangs all night
against the walls of my mind
you know

i can
sense its dusty eyes
its warm musty breath
like a lover starved
awaiting my sorry steps
you know

i can
like a novice dancer
learn the steps to take
or so wonderfully fake
this stupid life-ly dance
you know

stories

pen running on paper
or lip wrestling lip
hands waving in the air
or a long lost grip

Love in the air and everywhere!

A lot of love is in the air suddenly and quite a few friends have recently dived into the committed category. Smiles are floating like CET-coaching flyers outside MCC gates and it's a good thing to sit back and watch. Hair care and words like "understanding" have become neighbours in almost all the messages I get. Nicknames are created, refined and used dearly. Conversations now include detailed descriptions of what was done, said and left unsaid for ocular communication perhaps. Words are dissected finely and garnished with sights glazed with the love drug. The first more-than-friendly hug is shared like a freshly developed picture from nineties and later, framed for the best room in the mind. Priorities have suddenly been rehashed with academics and work plunging like the BSE on a bad business day and phone calls (and this we owe to the telecom boom, Dayanidhi Maran could be the modern day avataar of Cupid) are having to stretch themselves like my Mum's patience. Reality testing especially with regard to time has taken a backseat so far behind that it's out of the car itself and minutes, hours, days and months have merged into one mass with the only point of reference being the someone special.

Jokes apart, and yes those were digs; I say this because you guys are way too much in love to even realize perhaps that the jokes were on you, I wish all the new lovebirds a lot of lovely lovebirding. Keep at it :)

oh forsaken merman
in your mind's cave
i still see remains
your sandy saintly grave

your grey eyes
almost always belied
the desperation
the dementia
and the drowning
of your greyer strands
of your ever shaky hands

dear dadu, the calendar says it's been over three years, but then that's just the calendar...

spread across
the pages cream
scrawny little
letters scream

that one night

there shine
like silvery stars
in the darkest night
of my kohl lined eyes
the joy let loose
by your smiling
distant eyes

silly chirps
a maroon phone
to my ears
you only drone
petty prescriptions
come by easy
oh so free
i begin to wonder
what bird could
at once be
a nightingale
and a nasty crow