bored & moving

someone recently sold tumblr to me, not literally, of course. it just seems cleaner & more suited now. and i need a change. i don't know why. sometimes things don't need to make sense. so moving here (http://songofsacredeastwind.tumblr.com/) for a bit... lets see if i last. 

bored & moving

el natural

When I miss you (wilderness)
I drive off without my shoes
With one song on repeat
And each time the song ends
I forget to breathe

-

So full of love
Brightly lit and perfumed inside
This constant rush
I'm afraid
If i was really with you (green meadow)
I'd explode

-

the day the wind sings to me

my body will rise into the sky
break into smithereens
of silver & ash
and softly fall
unto 
each part 

of this thing called 'earth'

el natural

I without You

I scream
to forget
I learn
it doesn't help
It only makes
your voice
grow louder
in my head
in my heart
in my being

I breathe
I try hard
even to smile
it all seems convoluted
strained
estranged I stand
on the edge of a long bridge
it leads nowhere
but to the deep sea
and i can't jump
into it
for
you're not there

I wonder
how I could
be so blind
so closed
so lost
as to not see
that you were too
lost
amidst a crowd
amidst fanfare
with a fake smile
fake familiarity
nothing was real

I go
deep into
the dark crevices
inside you & me
and look for
something
we never had
something
you never wanted
or needed
and I did
I imagined it
but wanted it
I did

I lose
myself again
I find
the metallic taste
in me
in my mouth
in my being
in everything
around me
everything
bereft of you
your words
your sense
your being
your familiarity

I without You

Shoebox

You are my last love song
Beyond this I don't know what lies
Too scared to finish, afraid to try
Think I'm going to end this here
And let you fly
Away

Putting my heart in a shoebox
That'll keep it safe from all the ache
You might look down upon this
You might try and talk me out
I don't care
Try

I don't want to dance no more
Dancing just makes you end up falling
Fallen I have, this time too
But I will rise, never to fall again
Its too late
Goodbye

Shoebox

Beautiful Dawn

You're the most stunning thing I've seen
You're the most wonderful feeling I've felt
You've changed me around
I'm a better me
You've turned my life
Into a summer day
And I am happy
And grateful
For your gracious presence
Your love

Yet on those rare days
I will need to leave your side
I will need to burn my own pyre
And mourn the loss of something
I'd cherished but not protected well
I didn't lose it really
But in a way I did too
And so I will mourn
And there's nothing you could do
to change that or bring it back
or make it afresh or create anew
Its something you cannot do
No one can

But trust me, my love
I will mourn on that one night
And that one night only
And once I'm done
I will return
To no one but you
I will rise from my own ashes
And start afresh
Living the happiest life
With you

Before you love me so
You must, must know
That I am a Phoenix of sorts
Someone with a dreary, dark past
And if you can
Then would you
Would you please
Take me the way I am

Beautiful Dawn

golden love

sweet saccharine you, my golden love
i paint a pretty picture with all those shades
that make a rainbow look biutiful
i don't know you, never seen you
but i know when i do
you'll look something like that

you might not be golden
you might not smile
you might not have great hair
you might even be a bit trite

but you'll be something to me
no, you'll be everything to me
and i will be all that and more
to you and only you

nobody knows that the sun shines
deep inside my heart
and this sun is spelt just like you are
warm, aglow, shiny but far

someday not too far from now
you will escape from my heart
and flow out through my veins
into my life like a shooting star

that day there'll be a hop in my step
i'll wear a soothing summer flow(y) dress
and we'll be golden together
with your warmth, aglow, shiny, no more far

golden love

in my sky, in my sky

you started first
so, you were the one to finish first
the burn in your eyes
spontaneous combustion -- tearjerker
i was looking but i didn't see
mine were full of snow

i saw you bloat, float into the night
like a blimp, my frog in the sky
and then the morning sun rose

people owned sharp objects
they were prepared
but i didn't want it, i didn't care
you looked prettier in the sky
than when you stood next to me
said 'i'm ok'

you slipped so fast
from a sloppy flyer to someone who knew
there, quite simply, to a man you grew
and me, i stood aground
waiting for the accidental notes to dissipate
waiting for the bleeding fingers to sew new key notes
into another beating fist

now, i have fish in my sky
they float unperturbed, keep a look out
and i, put colour on canvas
to drive them away
from my
blackened heart

someday, not far from now
i will keep another frog, feed it to grow
this time i will do it differently
but that sounds like the same promise i made last time.

in my sky, in my sky

you and me

i can be sneaky when i want to be,
go into the hidden crevices to find
what you have been doing with yourself
who you've been seeing and talking to
and, even though i know it so
that you don't love me no more
i can't help but feel envious of the girl
you seem to so openly be crushing on

its been all of ten days since the split
you seem on your way out from recovery too
while i'm still stuck here in pre-op
moaning and feeling handicapped
in my wheelchair where you left me
wounded, bruised, beyond repair

that's what everyone always says
when they break from someone, something
you'll be fine too, you will
your life will go on and
you will wake up, and face the sunrise

i agree
and soon, i will

but for now
can I just walk the street that i've walked since birth
as if i've never been there before
can i shut out everyone and everything
and not be judged and thought of as weak
can i please imagine that it'd be easier
to have been hit by a car coming from behind me
and my blood splattered all across its wind-shield
than to have had my heart broken by you,
you who loved me so,
who's life i was
who was so lucky to have found someone like me
who was a better man because of me.

you and me

the eye

i saw my grandmother one day
she's been dead some 20 years
so her body was rotting
but her eyes were intact
i was in a train that passed by her
with a boy i'd only just met
guess she remembered me still
even though she was dead and everything
so her eye popped out of its socket
it was a very sunny winter day
the eye moved fast
and caught up with the train
it boarded the same way I had
and it passed by me
like it was a complete stranger
then it came back
and passed by once again
i think it was watery this time

it de-boarded the train where I did
it walked along me out of the station
as we looked for a taxi
it kept a watch on my luggage
as I entered the taxi, it entered too

the taxi moved up to the hills
and the boy held my hand
for the very first time
he kissed it too
the eye looked away
gazing into the distance
it looked at the valley
we'd oft frequented
when i was a child
and my grandmother was alive
the boy let go of my hand
and the eye looked at me
it seemed to want to say something
something i couldn't understand
how could i?
i'd only known her/ it as a child
i didn't know how to read it
if only it could speak
speak my language

when we entered our room
the eye entered too
how sneaky it was

the boy closed the blinds
and began to kiss me
the eye watered and left

after we were done
the boy and i
i looked for the eye, frantically
the boy looked worried
i said i'd lost something, important
but wouldn't let him search with me

i never saw the eye again
ever.

the eye

The Sun

It took exceptionally long to appear today
but when it finally did, it was strong and mighty
it seemed to say 'no one dare flout my will today'

I lay there in the open
waiting
as the wind played gently with my open hair
I lay there
for what seemed like an eternity
and when it appeared, it found me, immediately

It shone on me with all its might
It read my heart
that today, I'll let the sun think that my body and soul are its canvases

It began slowly
to devour me
and when the crescendo built
it burnt its way through to my heart
and something got released
something beautiful
something more brightly coloured than the deepest secrets of the sea

This thing - beautiful - it began to flow
from my heart into the sky
my sun's sky
there it flew without a care
the sun beaming, the wind dancing in its wake
then it looked down
at me, where I lay
and all around chimes began to play.

The Sun

What is this?

This continuum of thoughts, of you, of you and me
The lack of equilibrium, the lack of sanity
Unsettled, unnerved by every little abandonment
Frenzied by thought of a look, of a touch

Explain this enchantment to me
Tell me how a stranger it has been
Fear, my best friend with benefits
Tells me to shake it off, to not believe

And all this because they asked me about writing
I talked of places it takes me, places beautiful
And somewhere amidst those places deep within
I chanced upon a sapling growing, of you, of you and me

Now that I have it, I know where it dwells
What do I do with it, what do I call it?
You seem to have answers to so many things,
that I can't help but look to you to help give it a name…

What is this?

This Time

Each time I say 'this time'
But this time it'll truly be
No matter it does last or not
I will cherish it, for eternity

This time is like Summer Rain
For an ageing and weary me
But who can remain unaffected
By the ever enchanting Summer Rain

This time, I'm giving in
Uncareful, unanything
I'm speaking up, going under your skin
I'm pushing myself or are you pushing me?

I do not know, nor I care
I just know that I mustn't let go
I'll hold on, I'll understand
I'll make amends, take and keep this chance

This time I will dance
Under the influence of you and me
This time, I will write on blank paper
Like never before, once again

This Time

expend

Every little devastation matters, every tear means something.
In the larger scheme of the universe, somewhere far away,
Its all adding up to a giant mountain of grief,
And all you can do is -- try to run away from it.


'You are someone to be loved', they say to you.
But they don't finish the sentence... it ends with
'...Just like everyone else'
You are not special,
No one is,
You are not extraordinary,
Why, you're not the first person on this planet.

Angry words make poetry!
Maybe they do, maybe they don't,
They're just words,
They shouldn't be taken so seriously.

He looks magnetic,
Like the first ray of the sun - its called 'Arush' in Hindi, someone by that name has told me.
Back to him - he is the most beautiful colour of skin,
The colour you cannot help but love,
He is the most beautiful thing you can ever imagine,
He is the saviour,
He will heal,
And, if he doesn't,
Then there will be no saving you or this 'meshugah' soul of yours!

There's darkness in him,
there's darkness all around him,
that attracts you, draws you in.
You don't want to take care of him,
you've had enough of that in your life.
If that's the case then why are you drawn to his darkness,
it will only destroy you - slowly but surely,
it will creep into your heart and make your blood run cold...
Until you stop breathing.

She paints,
she's angelic,
she is an old soul - a wise soul,
but she doesn't draw you in.
You just want to watch her from a distance.
Why?
Why don't you want to be a part of her?
Why don't you want her to be a part of you?


He is a snake.
You were at peace without him,
but the mountain of grief wouldn't have it.
So, it sent him your way.
He now lives in your heart,
and he talks about himself all the time.
He thinks you need him and
he needs you,
when the truth is--you don't need each other.
Why can't you just leave.

Its like molten lava inside this body,
It flows through your veins,
and its trigger is a fickle whore.
She opens her legs for just about anyone,
and there you are - caught unawares.
If only you could find a way to expend this lava,
it would set you free.
All these diseases that you have,
from not being able to express yourself creatively,
they would all be gone--once the lava is expended...
whilst the lava is being expended.

You say whilst when you're talking,
when you're typing in your "right mind" --
you say while when you're typing with your
"unright mind"

expend

You are my Faith

Today I saw ‘My Sister’s Keeper’

I remember it was just last year that I was travelling in that plane, having spent my summer with you—I was headed away from you. You thought I’d made this big sacrifice and not travelled too far away from you for too long. I wish that were true. I hadn’t done it for various other reasons, which makes me think less of myself. Will I ever correct you on that and remind you of the real reasons why I didn’t move? Perhaps not!

I did however, fly away for a little while—me with my uncomplicated queer eye, I flew away from you and the rest of my life; perhaps it was justified. I can’t tell now. Back then it felt like I did need the break. From what, I don’t know. I hadn’t done anything. I’d just spent time with you.

Anyway, as I sat in that plane I looked at the list of films that were playing on the small foggy TV screen in front of me. On that list was this film. I had no idea what the film was about. I had no idea until tonight. I find that strange. I usually know such things. How did I not know this? And yet, I was attracted towards the film. I’ve wanted to see it since the time it was released… and, I never bothered to find out what the film was about. It’s unbelievable. Maybe I am over-thinking it.

I ate my hideous airplane pre-dawn meal, and washed it down with a couple of mini bottles of red wine. I was warm and all set to watch the film(s). I’d never really slept through journeys before. That night I slept through the whole thing and woke up in the morning, in time to hop on to the next plane.

Tonight I go back and forth that night in the plane. What would have happened if I’d seen the film? I might sound overtly dramatic here, but things might have turned out differently.

I think of all those lovely emails you sent me; the beautiful messages, the tear-filled conversations. You poured. I swept them under the rug. You tried to purge. I concealed. I’d like to purge but you know that’s not me. It’s not ok to cry in front of people.

I wish I could’ve done more. I see all this and I wish I could bring you more smiles. I wish this were the one thing in my life wherein I strived harder… somehow. Its in the past now though, and everything is all right.

I guess at moments like these, I understand faith—yours, then and now; mine—then. For now, I don’t need faith—I have you. My faith is in my phone that still rings at 11:30 in the night, and you’re calling.

You are my Faith

This could be the end...

This scent – it takes me back to you and me

So quick; I’m overcome

I convulse

At the very thought of your warm, dark skin

Its not a fashionable scent this one

It’s a very comfortable, lived-in one

It’s the smell of you every day that I knew you

Every day that I thought would be the rest of our lives

This morning you walked into my dream uninvited

You were the same you, yet somehow different

You spoke about the new ‘her’ in your life

And I couldn’t take my mind off your promises

Of there being no other—besides me…

Music almost always accompanies this scent

A lovely, soulful riff

Just like you

This time around, somewhere in the background, someone is singing—‘This could be the end’

And I am surprised

For I wish it is—the end

I wish you’d leave

I wish you wouldn’t live in this scent anymore

I wish you hadn’t grown tired of me

I wish you weren’t so indiscreet

I wish for so much

That sometimes I wish I didn’t know how to wish…

This could be the end...

Accidentals

Somewhere deep inside my heart

Lies a fraction

That only lights when it hears an accidental

It glows in the warmth of all the strange notes

In all sorts of songs

Songs about love

And loss

And all that jazz

Songs about beginnings

And ends

And all the messy parts in between

Sometimes I wish this fraction

Would put together all of these accidentals

Into a set

That my heart would play on repeat

For ever and ever

So I’d never have to listen to anything less beautiful

Anything less…

And so, I could live like this forever

Forever numb, forever cold…

Accidentals

You!

You,
With your deep, deep eyes
And your childish smile
You make me laugh the warmest laugh
Each time you touch my heart

And you
With your wild, wild ways
You have got me ensnared
You make me smile the biggest smile
From somewhere deep inside

And you
I didn't think it would be this simple
I never could have dreamt of all of this
And now that I have it all, within reach
I worry that it might go... away

You!

Numb

I want to force myself to write,

I am too pacified,

too content, 

with my existence,

and with yours.

Nothing bothers me, 

irks me into the frenzied dependence on my pen as an intoxicant

Nothing forces me into taking refuge in the pages of some words, some story.

I want to, I need to, I would like to be able to...

Can this be real? Could I be too numb to write?

I am too numb.

For after deep turmoil comes numbness!

Or does it?

I cannot tell.

Can you? Tell me? How to get out of this, out of here, where I am, stuck, it seems, for an excruciating eternity?

Maybe if I hurt myself, if I thought about bad things, I would be driven into that frenzy, like actors are. Don't they go to a bad time in life to be able to cry?

I could do that.

It wouldn't be tough!

Wouldn't it?

I cannot tell.

Sitting here, unmoved, un-anything.

They say you should just start, start writing, anything, everything, just make a move at least.

That sounds fair enough.

Or does it?

I cannot tell.

But it doesn't hurt to try...

Numb

God resides within Me...

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it” – Rumi

Be it love for a soul-mate or love for God, for I seek both, this makes sense to me… Fortunately, I sometimes forget about my search for a soul-mate… helps me live for myself and also not make any mistakes anymore, for this time around, I am not settling for anything less.

I’ve been searching for God for sometime now. Without looking for him at home, I’ve given up the search here. That’s probably because everything in my life tells me that he (will call him ‘he’ for convenience’ sake) is not here, if ‘here’ is where I live. He isn’t here because here statues are worshipped, and adorned, and blindly given one’s everything to whilst the beggar on the street dies on a cold, winter morning, not too far from one’s house. Here is where your people killed people who believe in another version of God – may be a bearded one or a turbaned one. God does not live where humans kill each other in his name. For all that he might or might not be; he isn’t someone who can allow such a thing.

So, when I went to a place where they believed in peace because their god strongly recommended it, I was tempted to join them… and follow their god. Then I found out that that would need for me to read a whole lot of literature and scriptures… and my heart didn’t urge me to make that effort.

I then came back to our gods, here, where I live. Someone close to my heart was going through a period of fire. That someone didn’t find it hard to find God; so, I followed in their footsteps and tried to find God in my rosary beads, in my bedtime prayers, in my chants, and my pleading, my tears… all for that someone to not be made to suffer.

Did I find God? No.

I still can’t understand that time. How did I manage to, for that period of time, believe and pray?

Today, I find around me, answers like… God resides within me, as myself… God resides in my heart… Whatever you do, don’t break someone’s heart because God resides in every person’s heart…

I think I will continue to look for him, for an ethereal support system but until that time… I can live with this - God resides within me, as myself!

God resides within Me...

The Joys of Being Woman Friday at a Travel Cafe

My friend Aeshna Roy has recently started a fantastic blog - content to design, all great; and it ought to be, considering she is an editor and chief designer at a leading publishing house. 

She has decided to dedicate a part of this virtual space to people who have really interesting jobs and ergo enjoy their work. The first interview that she's done is with none other than yours truly. 

It goes something like this: 

 

There are just so many interesting and downright awesome things people do from 9 to 5. I love meeting people who do exciting, different things as part of their work and really enjoy what they do. 

One such person is Shruti Sharma, the self-proclaimed 'Woman Friday' at the Kunzum Travel Cafe in Hauz Khas. She manages the media presence and develops online content for Kunzum, and also helps out (read sits around, chats with guests and drinks coffee) at their hugely popular cafe. Kunzum encourages people to visit, have coffee (you pay what you like for your coffee/tea/cookie!), share travel stories, pick up travel tips from other travelers and generally unwind. Shruti is also a voice-over artist when she's not (wo)manning the ship at Kunzum. 

Read more here...

I would like to take this opportunity to thank Aeshna; I'm honoured to be the first one to have been featured in this unique space.

The Joys of Being Woman Friday at a Travel Cafe