Rain

It was a day taken out of the movies- the rain, coffee and us. We had to get back to work and on an impulse, we walked in the rain. There was a couple ahead of us, with the woman covering the man’s head with the pallu of her sari. This made us laugh and I think what I thought was that my flimsy dupatta was not enough to cover you. 

I don’t think there was a magical day like that one and I couldn’t sleep a wink that night because of my new-found knowledge that I had fallen in love with you.I tried talking to you but the words did not come out and I couldn’t say anything meaningful to you. Now, looking back what I feel is that this would have ended that day had I taken some courage to say what I wanted. 

But what always happened was that I knew that we came from two different worlds of understanding and spoke in a common language only when it was necessary. The rest was all my making, an imaginary world where I was rejected and where I wrote words after words about you. What remains of a walk in the summer rain are some memories and so many words scattered across endless pages. Though these sound so immature and childish, these words were my way to get out of a habit of worshipping you like a God.

Forgetfulness

We have sang so many songs of silence
Though all our hopes were lost and gone,
While time has erased whatever we sang
With new memories and quiet forgetfulness. 

Like the earth that celebrates the monsoon
With fresh green sprouts of pulsating life
That peek through the tiny little spaces
Found on walls, chinks, floors and ground. 

You are like the monsoon that fed the earth,
With plenty of positive thoughts and beliefs,
With rare dreams and fantasies of being alive,
Though they were never said aloud or revealed. 

May be it's the meeting of the earth and rain,
That retrieves an era erased by forgetfulness.

Yellow song bird

She was born on a rainy afternoon. People came to see her cursing their bad luck. Rain brought good yield and was a blessing for the soil, but wasn't it unlucky for a child to be born during day? The Little yellow bird smiled never guessing how the bird clan welcomed her. Even her mother thought she was unlucky for the very knowledge of her being was a pain to her mother. One day the baby would grow up and ask her mother, "If I were a pain to you, why didn't you kill me?"

But she knew her father would never kill her. He loved her fondly and named her a lucky name selected with care. Her mother believed that the name was unlucky too and screamed at her father. She was proved right when within an year he died. He came home one day complaining of body ache and died within a few days. May be he died on a rainy day too, the baby thought. She never heard of him except on rare occasions and that made her cry.

The bird clan always treated her as different. She was unlucky, they said. "Killed her father", they would whisper to their children. So one day she was taken home by her grandparents who belonged to another clan. Her roots remained there but she had to go. So she took with her the only heirloom, a feather belonging to her father.

The new life in the new clan wasn't very exciting. Everyday people would pass by and remark, "oh, this is the little unlucky bird" and she would stare at them with her big eyes. But as she grew up she learnt how to be happy but no one liked her being happy. "She's so happy; let's take away from her happiness". So her precious toys were given to poor children, her beautiful clothes to those who had none, her books to those who could not afford books. For a while she cried and protested but then giving became her nature. She held on to nothing- the past she frittered away, her books she gave away, her jewels and gifts she shared.

The bird clan expected only giving from her because one day like her father she would die too. They expected her to exist for them and then die. Whatever she did was treated with contempt and disdain. Others praised their children before her. Fathers sang praises of their children's small achievements and she had none to say anything good about her. Everyone talked about how ugly she looked and how she would sit still without saying anything.

Then one day a traveller came who heard her singing to herself and wondered at the softness of her voice and her flair for music. He took her with him and taught her music. The others in the clan stood and said " Now what bad luck will she bring him?". After a month he went away but the fire he had stirred in her heart remained. So she learnt how to fly just to be alone and practise her music. Never did she sang before those in her clan. Yet the trees, the night and the stars became her friends, who listened and praised her songs.

Soon other birds listened too and praised her flair for music but her own clan would say with certainty that it was all nonsense. So one day when a great musician praised her, the clan leader put her in a cage and kept two birds to guard her. She asked herself, "what have I done in my life to deserve so much of torment , contempt from other people and sadness?" She sat and cried. Why didn't my mother kill me? why? why? She sat in the cold rain, who tried to soothe her with its icy fingers. She would sit and shudder as the warmth in her decreased day by day.

One day the traveller saw her in his dreams and thought "Let me go and see what she do with the music that I taught her". When he reached the cage, he saw her sitting still with her eyes closed. When he called her by her name, there was no response. By the time he had opened the cage and touched her wings, her wings were frozen and dead. It was still raining as if she was in the realm of clouds singing along with them another melody.

Struggle

A silence, a longing, a struggle, 
To get back my balance, 
Lost and found, lost and found, 
Like my love for you
Hiding in my own heart
Surprising and attacking me,
Attacking my reason, 
To follow your steps
Like a faithful disciple
Which my heart is, 
But my reason isnt.
Whom should I heed?

The Wanderer

Your memory comes to me at the strangest of moments. I pause in the midst of things and smile as your thought passes my mind. Though it happened a summer long ago and I know that I am a fool to think that I lost you when I never had you in the first place. I cannot croon love-songs liked I used to nor can I waste my life wandering around searching for you in every crowd. But to get back my words, I know that I have to cure my funny little heart that has loved you with all its mighty silences of years.

Summer Rains

You came with the summer rains

With thunder and lightning,

An explosion in the big silence 

And left an upturned life,

But with a huge difference-

Your absence and memories.

You brought with came with the rains,

When the roses bloomed you 

When the earth danced 

To the rhythm of raindrops,

On the rooftop, dum dum dum,

In that house with a leaky roof,

While I’d lie awake and listen,

Watch out for the merciless rain,

Toss and turn on my bed,

Snuggle against the pillow,

Get up and move the furniture,

Come back and dream of you.

I’d look at those lovely roses,

And imagine a few incidents,

Run and rerun your smile,

Every word and every laugh,

Our cryptic mutual messages  

And your funny way with words.

I’d go over how that mighty rain,

Peltered on our brown skins,

Tanned as you’d say,

Natural as I’d say,

Brown, plain and dark skins,

In that heavy sudden outburst,

There was nothing left to say,

Yet all that was left unsaid,

Was everything that we couldn’t

Speak, dream or create-

A language we couldn’t speak.

I’d remember how I could sing,

Stand, dream, sit, talk, laugh,

Everything except cry

Be myself beside you, 

For you were never another,

Only my own self, my mirror.

The smell of wet earth 

Dancing under the touch, 

Caress of raindrops.

With thunder and lightning 

Like in summer rain, 

And left a big silence 

After you left.

Your words, your smile, 

Every gesture, every moment, 

Became my treasures, 

Of a miserly heart. 

I’d gather all these moments,

Treasure them in my mind,

For you are no longer here,

For you are no longer mine,

Only a story to remember,

Only a memory to erase.

This crying idiot you never saw,

Who hid behind all clownishness,

A love that searched ways to erase,

All barriers of words between us,

But never could utter a word

Or dream a glimpse of you.

For I can see you in my dream,

For your left reminders on my path,

Your voice, words and a model,

Which I unconsciously imitate

And respect to my own surprise;

It was not that long you know to judge,

Only a summer of well-repressed words,

Dreams and an unlived life together.

As I move on with new strength,

After troughs and crests of longing,

A few words to celebrate an absence,

A few songs that an clown offers

To kill a love that stopped this life,

To make you smile with remembrance

For being so big (not fat) in my eyes,

For you these Songs of Silence

A City Glimpse

In the morning light the city lies silent,
Slowly it awakes with the rising sun,
And life moves along its streets,
Children walking to school,
Joggers on the run to keep fit,
Vehicles roaring to arrive first.
I walk with you by my side,
Through the lanes and roads,
Turning once in a while to smile,
Laugh or reply to something you,
Just told me with the wonder,
Of a child shining in your eyes.
I love the city in the morning light,
Only when you walk with me.

Your Memory

Primitive, strong and wild,
This love flickers and burns,
In your eyes, near my beating heart.

Your name is my treasure,
I would never utter aloud,
And spoil it with too much use.

Your name brings blushes,
Your memory smiles as I walk,
Through the same paths.

Your smile, so innocent and fleeting,
Your face buried in my bosom,
In a season of silence.

Your face

Your face flashes in my mind, my love,
When I try hard day and night to erase
Erase its impression and give me
Freedom from your haunting thoughts
Yet you come back in the rain
And in the bright sunshine
In the soft peach light of the sunset
Your voice, trailing across the miles,
The distance and forgotten times
To find a chink in my coldness
Built strong to keep you out,
Out of my life to keep me free.
Yet I am a slave to your thoughts
And bound than really free.

Love

I never say I bring you only bouquets of joy,
Yellow flowers of sunshine and love.
Hidden beneath them may be flaws in me
Which may wound you and pierce your heart
Yet with the broken, tattered, torn, scarred flowers , 
Which call my soul, I bring you dreams
From the unknown land, where in the grass,
Little toes will step towards you with delight.

Rose for you!

A faded rose is not a worthy gift;
Yet playfully I offered you one.
A broken heart is not ready to love;
I waited for time to heal its wounds.

With the rain, my heart danced,  
The earth blossomed into petals of joy.
But you were no longer around,
One for whom the roses bloomed.

Words in silence

I was just a child
When roots of a tree
Ancient and mighty
Came to my silences.

With a thousand limbs
Words embraced me.
Ripples in still water,
Words moved life.

This untutored heart
Without knowledge
Of rhyme or rhythm
Learned a new music.

The universe whispered,
My heart listened,
And my hand wrote
In the silence of night.

Time gifted more words
Till love came as silence
And danced in your eyes,
Leaving me without words.

Love unveiled drapes of time
To reveal and to relive
An innocence, the heart had
Before it knew words.

Rose

The Sea and you

You jolt me suddenly,
Into whirlpools of desire,
Where I drown and lose
Everything that I have.

Again your eyes sing 
Melodious songs
That lure mermaids,
In every known land,

Pulling me into you,
Making me drown,
Then tossing me back,
Innocently ashore.

The ebbs and the tides flow,
At times dashing against rocks,
Till I sit on the shore, lovingly,
Watching you sleep...

Murder, Slow and Steady

You were fast and wild,
And I was slow and steady,
The two worlds never met.

Yet one rainy morning,
Saddened by your absence,
I took up my pen and wrote.

In every word I wrote,
You cast your shadow,
Flowing with the ink.

The ink splattered on pages,
But the grief of your loss stayed,
Like dried ink on pages.

In the early morning dreams,
You come with a smile,
A kiss or an embrace.

Waking, raged at my folly,
I turn to tearing page after page,
Killing you slow and steady.

A Request

Come back with the summer rain,
Come back to me, in the summer rain.
With your hair wet and eyes tender,
Come home to me in the summer rain.

In the rain, stand near to me, 
As the earth dances with the sky, 
In the rain, come back, my love, 
As the fond touch of raindrops.

Waiting at Twilight

What is love? Many answers, at the same time. 
As the twilight meets the dark and the light, 
Just as one rainy afternoon you bid farewell,
Talking of matters I did not understand.

Why did it have to rain on days we met and parted?
Why did a walk in the rain bring such love?
And a concealed set of desperate symptoms,
Which I'd never known was of true love.

Now another mirage, another dream choked by logic,
Gives me vision to see clearly what I have lost. 
"My love" on the afternoon you left, my heart whispered, 
Though my voice choked it with a farewell,

I still remember how tears had fallen, 
How sobs had broken for words that didnt come,
Twilight has come again and I meet you everyday,
In every face, in every word, everywhere.

Foolish heart scared of what it didnt know, 
Killed love so mercilessly without letting it live.
Nothing, nothing but you in my heart, 
Today I witness twilight and my own life.

Playing in the Rain

I want to play in the rain
Till my soul is wet with love.
I want to play in the rain
Till I hold your soul in my hands.
Through the same life spirit
That binds all beings
That brings us close
I touch your hand
And you touch mine
In silence.

Silence

On that rainy day,
A couple walked past us,
Huddled together.

You and I, we walked
Hurriedly, drenched
In the rain and silent.

Your shy eyes lingered
Now and then on me,
Happy like a child.

With throbbing heart
With hungry eyes
I stowed away your magic.

You never said a word
I never said a word,
Only silence and the rain spoke.

When we spoke at last
It was with indifference
To the magic between us.

So we threw away the words
And the magic between us
What is left now is only silence.

Epitaph for love

Here lies the dreams
Of a long lost love,
Better not touch,
You might wound
The heart or even
Release old ghosts.