Thursday, 28 May 2015

The shitballs life throws...

Like a pendulum life keeps swaying.... the highs and the lows... leaving you wondering at the surge of emotions your mind is capable of feeling... Sometime it makes you feel like someone dead and buried thousand feet under and sometime you are alive, alive with a thousand volt electricity running cruising through your veins... from the serpentine sleeping kundalini to the exploding sahasradhar... Life takes you on a roller coaster ride till you are capable of feeling no more... and then you stand outside yourself watching numb... the game life is playing within you... 

The Art of Losing...
The art of losing is so easy as Elizabeth Bishop said,
Started with a bunch of keys, papers and soon grew staid.
At times a spectacle case, a book or two,
Some other time it was just an old shoe.
Stress followed...
And shouts and wild flurry of activities,
Following a realization that mother is reaching infirmities.

Two great cities I have lost too,
Smells of home and shades of roof;
Lost my way in catacombs of life,
Lanes and bylanes... 
Twisting serpents.
Filter coffee or chai matters no more,
As I move on...
Across boundaries and create new lores. 

But now it is time to lose you,
Your smell, your memories, laughter galore,
The conversations, the kisses and maybe some more.
Today there is no more stress or drops of tears,
As I have mastered the art of loss,
But never the fear.

Shall keep on losing till I lose myself,
In the arms of life and sleep.
Meet me there never to go away,
Across the place where time stops,
Lost is found and..
Emotions hold sway.

Friday, 15 May 2015

And finally arrival... at a time when the comfort of anonymity suits one better... how does one begin? From which random page...
Maybe with this...
Tonight...
Tonight is a night for the past
For you and for me
Spilled coffee, stained lace covers
Lipstick marks, lost faces and memories,
Ones that do last...

Tears have dried up in their channels
After having run due course and 
Anger has died too...
What remains in this stale game of note matching...
Act by act
As we sit
Face to facts.

Aging lovers... 
Both you and me...
Buried thousand feet under memories
Trying to clench our way out
Searching for similar old smell and taste 
In each others bodies.

But that time was a witch...
Trapping our mind in magic mirrors forever...
Younger we were and lovers,
Careless, enchanting and debonair.

All spent...
We recline with smoky eyes 
And memories galore
Will the time return?
We wait, counting hours...

Maybe yes, but never the magic...
Mind whispers.
maybe yes, but never the madness...
Heart whispers.
Maybe yes...
The wait whispers.

Yes, tonight is the night for past, my love...
For you and me!