Teaching

Once upon a time, for a short while,

Teaching meant trying to scream above

The aeroplanes taking off nearby

 And the trains that screeched past,

While in this noise girls chatted

On the much prohibited mobile phones;

It also meant counting own mistakes

And losing your voice by Wednesday.

Now it means being silent when it rains

More because it is impossible to talk,

And may be it disturbs the lovelorn dreams

That flit across so many dreamy eyes.

The rain takes them away somewhere

An my voice drags them here back again. 

Perfect Match

How long have we belonged to only to each other?
That day since we took a quiet walk of togetherness,
Though it is as though we have always belonged
To each other across the ages in a sacred sense.

Coffee kisses, pasta lunches, candlelit dinners,
Shared moments of togetherness well-cherished
The perfect wine that we tasted last and so deep,
Not first love nor the first riot of purple passions.

There might have been others before you and me
Countless love-stories that taught us heartbreaks;
The many roles that you and I played across lives,
The sense of having known each other all along.

But I do remember us walking around the holy fire
Quietly chanting mantras of eternal togetherness.

#deepveer

Good Fortune

There was no good luck on my cards today
For you were not there to cheer up my day, 
For the days have made you so special
That I don't have words to tell you how. 

Not that I am what you want me to be
Not that I do what you really want me to
For I evade your eyes and your smile 
Flitting across like a mirage with you. 

Yet without your smile no day is perfect, 
Your sunshine that radiates joy for me, 
My eyes roam around your empty space 
As if you are seated where you do normally. 

The memory of your smile flashes to me 
And a stupid grin spreads across my face. 

Soul Friend

I haven’t had a true friend in years, one that listened and criticized and encouraged and beat the shit out of my foggy two-mind. But you are that wonderful find, one in a million, who looks at things in the eye, takes the best and ignores the rest. I feel the difference when I speak to the rest who speak twisted truths and create stories out of nothingness. I have been bearing this cross of life for years but it feels lighter when your hands support me and your prayers encourage me.  You are my best wine, mellowed and intact that keeps me chin up during the toughest of these times. 

Lovestories

I wonder all the time
How one could write
A love story without
Adding a cliche or two.

What about hearts beating
Words that are unspoken
Warm eyes that tell stories
Or silences that speak.

Nor could you ignore
A heart as good as gold,
Or a broken or weary one
Or sad partings or ends.

One could add kisses
That last an eternity
Or smiles that set
Hearts on fire, always.

Or add no endings
Except happily ever after
Or of coming in dreams
Or the tests of true love.

Despite all the cliches,
That you and I created,
It's them who live them,
Others to the fullest. 

With or without it
All the cliches don't say-
Of a life with you in real
Or the life without you.

whyuseclichesinlovestories

Purple Riot

 

You were the little that I gave away once,

In a season, that I’ve never ever forgotten.

Dear, you were mine from the first time,

Your eyes locked mine in a tender gaze.

The purple riot began and took root slowly

Who would've thought, who would've known

With us, it looks like spring all of the time,

To snow in the dawn and to melt by evening.

The sunshine that returns or the many songs,

One day sitting nearby feeling the full riot, 

The deep desire in your eyes that sang to me

The whole night when you held me close.

You were the knight whose arms held me,

While I sang the songs of this purple riot.

 

Angst

Your words fill my heart with a strange emotion; it’s like seeing me in a mirror, a million crossroads ago. The words bring new possibilities that I had lost and may be with a sleight of hand, with a sudden twist, I want a victory in life, not beautiful words in multiple colours strewn across pages and pages of separation and absence.

The bondages don’t matter anymore nor the daily actions that need so many juggling roles; one to another switching lines and changing masks. Your angst matches mine and tears rise up in my eyes when I realise that what matters really is flying out of mazes, free and wild, without ever getting burnt in the riot of ecstatic freedom.

Time freezes and I always go back to the day we spoke; more or less clueless as to emotions; yet in a strange way feeling the way how words do not make sense any longer with the baggage that I carry and the familiar way in which my eyes longed to see what I saw till the magic was broken and the moment gone.

Many seconds passed before I felt what it is to come back before you and get back the same lovelorn gaze; many days, months, years may pass with the moment gone; while the writer’s words say it all, wasting away lives and crossroads all in the name of a love that never found a way to the lips, all in the name of a love that is so you and so me; and so perfect  

A cup of coffee

When I drink you in like my cup of coffee;
With a little milk to bring in the right colour,
Strong flavoured robusta with sugar added,
In my large brown mug, with a tome in hand.

When I drink you in like my cup of coffee;
With slices of brown bread slightly toasted,
A little marmalade and butter thinly spread,
As I read the current tome that I’m reading.

When I drink you in like my cup of coffee;
I dream of your eyes that drank my desire,
My eyes stay on the page and the storyline
But my heart falls back on our little fantasy.

For another day, when I drink you like coffee,
When you sip my desire your eyes only on me.

A fairy tale

Your thoughts fill me with a strange emotion;
I wonder how the crossroads would have been
Had we been together from a lost point in life,
That with a sleight of your hand you destroyed.

For me, the world looks the same like before,
Except the angst of your absence is never gone,
The fear of losing you that had happened once,
That grips me and finds solace in many words.

But this heart still yearns the story to be true,
This love of years that you never openly show,
While my pages of separation and absence grow
Into thick books that need no real explanations.

Had you said a few words right, my dear friend,
This would have been a life of true devotion.

Writing

A blank page listens in silence at this midnight hour,
To capture whatever is left behind from humdrum days;
A few words in black ink are scattered on these pages,
When I think of the fire in your brazen quick eyes.

The words that are scattered on scores of white paper,
Tell a tale of what would have if, had we given a try,
To the loads of fairytales that were possible in life-
Just a shot to what might have been probable earlier.

Yet you need no words from me; your life has closure,
While mine remains centred around the memory of a gaze,
One that unsettled some promises from another millenium,
Some unwritten ellipses of memory and my fond melodies.

Two spheres in their orbits, we are two true fools in life,
Too bad to be on a big colourshow in identical colours. 

Humdrum

The days have been so humdrum,

With blue sleepless hazy midnights

Words in blank ink scattered across

Scores of white scraps of paper.

You needed a few words from me,

Just to chase away the wild blues;

May be I was at a loss for words

With boundaries drawn around;

Now the colours are out on show,

In purple, indigo, green and white;
The shades of blue and black
Ink scattered on these blank pages.

Two spheres in  their orbits are

Two fools who can’t be fooled.

Sublimation

The dust in the hourglass falls down rhythmically,
While you and I negotiate on this slow-moving life,
Like the ancient master of absurdity had once wrote,
None comes, none goes, nothing happens- uneventful.

You and I have reached a point where we need to part,
You have miles to go to reach your true destination,
While I decide to stay behind hiding my hurt heart,
Nursing the wounds with a half-woven dream in words.

You and I lived together in a make-believe world,
You with your ready-made ideas of time-travelling,
While I went on weaving dreams of having a family,
All centred around your strong arms around mine.

For there is no going back, this absurd heart knows
For some solids shed no tears, those who sublimate.

Silence

There is no perfect life around;

Once there were limbs, dark

That should have been entwined

In embraces and songs to be sung

To cheer up our spirits low,

And fights that ended in kisses.

It was a perfect life that went by,

But these eyes mirror falsely

What once was so true for us,

Smiles for smiles, tears for tears

Not these shadows on the faces

That sense the imperfect us.

If it were that simple to set right

All the imperfections in me,

All the imperfections in you

No words are good enough;

For it all began with a smile;

And ended in perfect silence.