The Fall

The Fall

Red and crisp

gust rustling 

through,

fallen yellow;

a reminder of warm 

hue,

of the deep blue 

sky, spotless 

new;

tell me, the orange glow,

does it ever

pass by you?

The City

The City

It's a sea
thousands of waves 
small or big
hitting against the rocks
there is something soothing about the sea
the sound of thousands of waves
small or big
hitting against the rocks
and slowly each wave engulfs you
and you are a part of the sea
and the sea is a part of you for eternity.

The Worst of all Lovers

The moon is often the worst of all

it shines to make you fall in love

it waxes and wanes, rises and falls

sudden bursts passions,

of heavenly serenity

and makes you take a long flight  above;

At times when you feel tired of watching

pointlessly for hours or waiting for it in vain

it plays hide and seek, hiding hours among the clouds

slowly peeking,

it gently wakes you up from your sleep

and make you fall for it all over again.

Then it disappears once again

within the clouds, without a sign, without a clue

lost in those dark cushions,

allowing you to feel special,

letting your imaginations run wild

and making you believe once again that it shone just for you.

I Dance With a Smile

When the moon grows brighter
my soul leaps high, I dance
and when the cold night breeze
softly moves my hair, I dance.
I flow with the rythm of the earth
I move with pure delight
I dance for the beauty of existence
I dance with a smile, I dance with a smile.

Whom am I Trying to Impress?

It's late midnight; I mean early morning, I am still on the couch, I cannot go to bed. An undefinable sense of restlessness has been growing within me since this evening. The orange street light is penetrating through my curtains. It looks beautiful on my wall.

Instead of romanticising its beauty, I am crying. Despite its beauty, the light reminds me of the orange glow on the wall of my house; the same glow that glistened over my blissful evenings with him, the same glow that stayed together with me during my hard times with him. It is that beautiful orange glow that now reminds me of him. The glow that was serenity to me before has now become an eerie recurrence, almost avoidable.

I regret.

I ruined the evening. I am a party animal; a gregarious beast. How the room had roared with laughter.Some of my jokes were really working out pretty well. All my friends were gelling in together, but I broke it, suddenly.

A dreary gloom had come upon me, and I had ruined it for everyone. I wonder now…How could I have broken it? I mean it’s possible to break glass, hearts, promises, or even silence…But how had I managed to ‘break’ a party?

I’m sure ‘break’ isn’t the right word. May be ‘interrupt’ would’ve been a better choice. But I didn’t really interrupt it either. I just sat there silent, like a rock. Ironic…not a rock exactly, let’s stay a stone. The gloomy expression on my face must have been the real kill-joy.

It wasn’t because I’d lost the poker game. Of course not! I am not a bad loser. That was just a game for me. I know it’s natural to win and lose in any game. It must’ve been the song that created the melancholy environment. No, the songs were good, but the memories attached to them…it was just that the song rustled my memories. That’s it. No, no. It must’ve been the result of that extra glass of beer that I’d gulped down, or let’s say the extra bottle. But how can anyone get drunk on beer? Well…I guess people simply can.

How can I forget? It was also because of that guy that reminded me of him.

Why did he say that? How could he have told me to not be sure of the relationship…that anything might happen? Will my boyfriend leave me just like my ex did? Of course not! He won’t ditch me. He is always nice to me. Now is that something to be worried about…a sign perhaps? Do we need to fight to ‘spice up’ our relationship? Is he getting bored? Or am I getting bored? I am not! But why did I start missing my ex all of a sudden at the party? Is it because we used to fight and that kept our relation interesting?

It still hurts; the way we broke up really does hurt. I must have carried around this hurt with me for long. No wonder I could feel the pain at that precise moment; it had finally found an outlet to flow. I have locked myself in a room in this unknown house, and am drinking wine now. I am conscious that there are people outside. A lot of them are getting wasted, many trying to impress pretty ladies, many trying to charm others with their talk, and some—those I can hear right outside the door—seem curious about why I’ve left the party and locked myself in.

Do I miss him? Of course not! I have fled a hundred miles away from him, a thousand perhaps. I don’t really know, but I’m sure I’m pretty far from his shadow. I am perfectly fine here. Wait, I know that horn. That’s my boyfriend’s car. But how can he be here? He was at a meeting, at work. Let me draw this curtain, and take a look. It is him! They must have called him. Why though..? I’m perfectly fine.

I should go outside and tell everyone I am fine, and that they must not get worried. I should make an excuse, tell them that I was a bit dizzy and wanted fresh air. Well, fresh air? In a locked room? Impossible! Maybe I should tell them I needed more space; that I needed some time by myself. But a gregarious animal like me, do I really need some time alone? Well they might think that I don’t, but I do need to be by myself at times. Everybody does. But no one will do what I did at this party. I feel stupid. I shouldn’t have rushed into this room. It was a bad idea.

I am not going out right now. Let me wait for a while. I can hear my boyfriend calling me. Poor soul, he’d be devastated if he knew whom I am missing right now. He has gone through a lot of that. Poor guy, he’s dealt with my past. Finally, things are going better with us, and I don’t want him to think that I’m still going nuts about my ex. Of course not! He’s been a real sweetheart.

He has supported me throughout, and loved me, and given me the attention I deserve. I don’t want to lose him. He knows me really well. But he knows me! He knows me too well! He probably knows why I’ve locked myself in here.

When he gets to me, he’ll get annoyed, and angry. My friends might believe my ridiculous excuses, but he won’t. He will know—he knows! What should I do? I don’t want to lose him. I love him!

Maybe I should make a sad face so that he feel’s sympathy, even pity for me. Yes, everyone will sympathise; so will he. That will do. I will just stay here a bit longer. I am still in tears though. Even after all this thinking? But what am I crying for? For my ex? Of course not! For me? But why? For my poor betrayed heart? Or for the terror I feel at the thought of me losing the person I love right now? Now just cut it off! I am not crying. I don’t feel sorrow at all! I know I’ve only been pretending; but what for? Whom am I trying to impress? My ex? My friends? My boyfriend? Or You?

Smile

because those lips slightly curved, looks lovely i agree
but the shine in the eyes, dazzles me more
the piercing sunrays through the silver cloud
the evanescent droplet that glistens on a green leaf
purity and the beauty of nature together
they are lovely i agree
but these beauties last for only a while
I don't have enough reasons, or I have no reasons at all
I choose to, so I smile

I Missed It Once Again

I saw her, right in front of me, dozing—a short nap on her way to the office. She had managed to keep herself perfectly busy all these days; marching to school early in the morning and to work right after school and then back home. She deserved this short break; she deserved this nap.

She still looked pretty, even in her sleep. The proportionately small eyes looked very peaceful, partly hidden by a thin strand of hair. I wanted to stretch out my hand and remove the hair falling over her face the way I used

to before, and wished she would

smile while I did this. But it isn’t possible now.

With the momentary bliss, came a sudden realization—the stinging truth—that she had gone forever. She is my past. Now, I wish she won’t open her eyes till the next stop—till I get off the bus. If she sees me, the same drag will continue, the same bitterness, the same pain.

How I wish that day had never come in my life. I would have lived with a fake fact, but a sacred fact forever—that she loved me and only me.

I had been a fool; a fool to have moved away and left her stranded; a fool to have assumed that she would desert me; a fool to have fallen victim to the rumours and whispers; a fool to have dishonoured my heart. I shouldn’t have left my precious pearl in order to pursue another.

I don’t like to remember that day. She told me with tears in her eyes, “I am sorry. I am with someone else; I have moved on.” I laughed and cried at the same time. I was happy for her but sad for myself. She couldn’t look into my eyes, the bitterness in her words stung me and it still does. But she

was sad. How could I make her

cry even as I promised to keep her smiling? I moved away after that, without even a word. I didn’t even say my final goodbye.

She wasn’t at fault. I kept blaming her for suspecting me of being with another girl. I put all the blame on her even when she gave me a chance of redemption. I felt the chill run down my spine when she asked, “I knew everything; you didn’t tell me the truth; I told you everything that happened in my life since you were gone, but you kept silent. Please tell me.”

I had still deliberately and carelessly cut her off then. I shouldn’t have. I should have understood the gravity of her statement; respected the truth of her heart. I should have told her that I had been with another girl just to show her, but I could not adjust with anyone other than her. After all, she still is my first love. I knew it was too late when she said, “I read all your messages; I know your password. You still don’t think it’s necessary to tell me the truth?” I lost everything at once. I tried to hide it; cover it till everything became stable once again, but lost it all instead. I knew I couldn’t even clarify myself. I had been chastised by fate once more. It was my last chance, but I lost the girl who had sincerely waited for me for years; the girl who despite knowing my disloyalty continued to love me. I must have broken her heart and her courage one more time, but she must have been used to it by then.

I could feel beads of sweat trickle down my forehead as I looked at this angel taking deep breaths; lost somewhere in her sleep. I am sure this perspiration is not just because of the harsh May sun, it is because of the guilt. I will not be able to face her again—to tell her that I am sorry—to tell her I still love her.

But I quickly rationalised it all and again shifted all the blame to her. If she had waited for me for so many years, why couldn’t she wait for me a few more months? If she always forgave me for my mistakes, why couldn’t she forgive me this time? If she really loved me, why did she choose to go with someone else? If she had tried to keep our relationship intact all these years, why did she let go of it? It is not just my fault; she is to be blamed as well. After all, the angel is not as perfect as she seems to be.

I could now feel the upsurge of anger once again—the same anger that had made me misbehave and leave her years before. I felt like shaking her from her peace for she had always persisted in my mind all those years and disturbed me throughout.

Thankfully, the bus stop arrived. I was relieved. I could easily leave the bus without her seeing me or should I put it the other way— without me rustling her memories? As I moved out, something shiny caught my eyes; something shone in her hand. For a second, I thought it was just the light reflected by the brass bell of the temple which stood erect on the other side of the road. Then, as the bus started to move, I realised that it was not just the reflection of light, it was a ring—the vow that I had given her years before at the same temple; the vow which she still treasured on her finger.

I missed it once again; one last chance of asking her if she still waited for me. I missed it again.

I don’t know when I shall meet her again. But now I promise to the goddess at this temple—the witness of our relationship— that the next time I see her, I will ask her about what has happened in her life; I will gather enough courage to listen to her no matter what might turn up; and I will truthfully tell her what has happened in mine.