The Epitome

A life in rewind

“Babe, I don’t mean to tell you what you already know, but maybe you need some more nutrition, hai na? I know you’re more than capable of eating for two on a good day, but you know you have to do that every day, right now na?”

She rolled her eyes at him, but obediently pulled the plate closer again. “But this is boring food! There’s no taste to this!”

“Haan na, baby, itna teekha tum kha sakti ho, baby thodi khaayegi…”

“Why? I’m sure she’ll love some achaar… Let’s try na?”

He dropped his head into his palm and laughed, “We’ll try tomorrow. For now, eat.”

She grumbled and picked up the spoon, turning towards him for another complaint, but he was too quick.

“Mmm, now you can take your time with your food, and I’ll get a nice nap” he settled comfortably on her extended legs, a pillow between her thigh and his head, “Go on, take your time.”

She sighed, sniggering to herself, and got down to finishing her food.

***

‘The mornings came too quickly these days’ she thought to herself, as she stretched and heard him already putting on his belt. The unmistakable clink of the buckle told her she’d missed the morning banter.

“You’re not coming back in, to bed?”

 He glanced at her in the mirror and smiled at the routine they’d carried on for years “No, sweets, it’s late today. Gym mein thoda zyaada time lag gaya. But I’ll come home early, and we’ll do coffee and Bournvita”

“Can I have beer?”

“Can I first have my baby?”

“Take her now only, she’s a bore, just like you. She wants to go to work.”

“Just like me, or just like you?”

“I’m a lazy ass, you’re the one who won’t come back to bed.”

“Mommy darling, you’re dying to get back to work, and you know it. You’re probably already drafting an intro mail for your daughter and setting her task list up. Okay, I’m off. Kiss?”

“Ew, no! I need to brush.”

He leaned down and kissed her belly, then grinned up at her “I wasn’t asking you.”

She began to laugh.

***

The door opened and his perfume drifted in to her before his voice did. He was on the phone.

“Hunjee, abhi ghar aaya hoon. Just got in.”

She mumbled into her pillow “You can get off the phone now, at least.”

His voice smiled out from her earpiece, and his breath tickled her shoulder “But then I won’t hear your pretty voice say ‘I love you’ over the phone na?”

She growled in response “I love you”

“Okaayy bye…”

His hand was rubbing her back now “What happened, bad day?”

“No. I’m just surrounded by idiots who don’t know their hands from their feet.”

“So, bad day.”

He was making noises with glasses and all.

“No, no! Wait! I’ve made you filter coffee. Thandi hai, bas thodi garam kar do.”

He paused, and turned to her with a frown “Why are you making me coffee at night? Don’t tell me you have work to do yaar…”

She grimaced. He wasn’t going to be happy “Not much… Just a little…”

“Yaar toh din mein kar lete na, why would you leave it for after I get home?”

“Arre abhi shaam ko aaya…”

“So, we’ve talked about this na, why would you take up a project at night?”

“It was important…”

“No yaar, you do your project, then I’m going to sleep. I’m tired.”

He walked off, cup of coffee left on the table, a plate of food in his hand.

“Scoot.”

He looked up at her “Jaldi kaam khatam karo, and sleep. Don’t waste time. Again, you’ll stay up late, and be tired tomorrow.”

“No, I’m done.”

“Done with work?”

“No, work is there, I’ve pushed delivery time to tomorrow evening.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to spend time with my husband. He’s quite sexy, you know.”

***

“Pastels look gorgeous on you”

She stole a side-glance at her almost-husband “You know what a pastel is?”

He nodded, under pretence of straightening his glasses “Like the signal is a green, the pista ice cream is a pastel green; I remember.”

She stifled her laughter as her father gave her a look from across the mandap. Probably not the best time to get in touch with her sense of humour.

“Babe, suno na…”

“Hmm?”

“Aapko mujhe prompt karna padega. I have no idea what anyone is saying. Thoda distracted hoon na. Those pastels and all.”

“Damn it, I was hoping the fam would do that bit. Mujhe ghanta pata hai, what to do…”

They both stopped laughing as the pandit gave them a dirty look this time.

***

“Listen.”

“Hunjee?”

“If I quit my job, pick up my Rani of Jhansi sword and come off to your city, and convince your family, would you seriously consider spending the rest of your life with me?”

“Sure. But where would you get the sword from? And who would pay your rent?”

“Arre that I’ll manage. And rent maane, I’ll take over your business, siphon off funds as expenses, and make it vastly successful within the financial year, so you’ll never find the money taken out.”

“Oh, accha. But market down hai, and regulations are against us.”

“Haan, but I’ll probably pull a Richard Gere from Pretty Woman. Have you seen Pretty Woman?”

“What is the Richard Gere reference, but?”

“You’ve not seen Pretty Woman?”

“I HAVE, I don’t get the Richard Gere reference.”

“Oh. He basically buys big companies that are floundering and sells them off bit by bit.”

“So, you’re buying me out and selling me off?”

“Not you ya. Your company. And I’m not buying, I’m going to seduce you to sign it off to me.”

“You know it’s not really MY company to sign over to you.”

“Older people love me. That’s my concern, not yours.”

“Aight. Let’s see. My signature will come last, if you succeed in the rest.”

“Haan, but then you’ll spend na, rest of life with me? Even if I dissolve the company?”

“Kyun nahi? Raja ban ke jeeyenge.”

“I’m serious.”

“Huh?”

“I’m serious.”

“About?”

“Will you consider marrying me?”

“Babe, we talked about this…”

“I don’t give a fuck. Do you want to?”

“Yes”

“BRB, getting my sword.”

***

 

She packed up his shirt, and his t-shirt. And the note he had sent her when she’d won her major milestone. And the box from the chocolates. And put them all the corner of the cupboard.

The house still resonated with his voice. The city still threw scents of his presence at her. Her phone was strangely lighter now, and her inbox strangely empty. The ding of texts wasn’t as fun to hear anymore.

Maybe it was a coincidence that the rains had started when the final page of their storybook had been turned. Perhaps some lucky little girl in the future would read the child-friendly, happily-ever-after version of their story. Their original story was more like the German old wives’ tale version, with a gruesome ending. At least, it was gruesome for her.

‘It’s not like you’re a mermaid or a secret princess, really, what did you expect?’

She shook her head at her momentary lapse of practicality, and mentally put away the silly flights of fancy away with the clothes and the past few mementos she couldn’t bear to throw away.

Scents fade away faster than people do. But they hurt more. Scents remind you about love in a weird, integral way that kicks you in the gut and lifts you up, at the same time.

The collar, crook of the arm, and mid-torso of the shirt in her hands no longer smelled of him. It no longer reminded her of being engulfed in the protective bubble of their fairy-tale.

***

“Suno na.”

“Hmm…?”

“I think we need to talk…”

#AboutLastNight

Liquid courage, they call it;
A swig is all you need
To take life by the balls
And to chase your dreams.

One swig
And you'll stop being scared
Stop wishing you'd dared
That one time
When you ran away.

It's fight distilled from adrenaline

It's the balls to say what you mean.

Liquid courage
One swig and you're super human;

You're doing stuff they said you can't
You're breaking rules
You never believed in
You're saying words
You rehearsed
A hundred times in front of a mirror.

A sip to remember
That you're the boss
That it's your job
To take charge
Send that mail
And goddammit, ask for that raise!

Your best friend
Leading you to the dance floor
That lying bastard
Who says you're a bomb
When you're probably more a nunchuk
And that REALLY shouldn't be
Your song.

Your wingman
Who hates to see you crash and burn
But knows she's so damn far
Out of your league
That you probably shouldn't even dream of her.
A swig is all it takes

For "Hi, what're you drinking?"

That idiot
Who told you "You have a dream""
"You have a gift
Damn, you should perform your poetry
It really speaks to me"
Except they've been swigging
Pretty damn hard themselves.

Aged for years
With wisdom imbibed from
Oak casks, and brewing tanks
Microscopic bubbles of yeast-fuelled logic
Pushing their way into your mind
Telling you what you already know
Just don't have the impetus to go for.

Liquid fucking courage.
Because for some reason
Without one swig
You have a duty to suppress it
You know what you want
But you're denied it
Flight fights back
Flight comes in first place
While you cower in the back
"Bhai daaru lao..."

Almost There

I’m not perfect and I don’t expect
To really ever be
I have endless flaws but that’s just how
I know to be me
I’m a fighter, undercover
As a quiet soul
Perfection bides away its time
Till it's unleashed upon the world.

I’m not perfect, not even close yet
And I’ll never be
I’m a warrior, undercover
Till something deserves me
It won’t be perfect, I can’t expect
Anything to be
But I’ll fight if I’m convinced I should
And that this fight, I fight for me.

I’m flawed for sure, I can’t deny it
But I’m almost there
The flaws are mine to hold for life
Not something I despair
I’ll find a flaw I can complement
And then things will be perfect
But till then I’m almost there
I’m not perfect yet.

How to Meet New People After Half Your Life is Done

As a product, you're a problem
A long-term investment
No guarantee
Prone to short circuits
And hell for maintenance.

But even the battered defects you own
Have been accepted by some
But when you grow, you meet many more folks
With whom you have to make things work.

Of course, you come with an instruction manual
But that's buried deep in packaging
Which nobody will try to open
Unless you're doing some tagda marketing.

So let's try to make sense
It's an easy enough process;
Just a few steps.

Step one.

Get out of your corner

And try, na, once, to talk?

You’re fun sometimes, you also acknowledge,

So, can a tentative introduction go too wrong?

Step two.

No, don’t run away just yet

You’re human, not on a final shoot for Seinfeld

Don’t let the raised eyebrows daunt you

You’re a star, your new friends should flaunt you

Step three.

Okay maybe that was a lie

Human beings never grew out of the playground

We were annoying little shitheads as kids

And there’s still enough of us around.

Step four.

But remember, you have some friends

And you’re fairly certain they’re going to stay

So maybe take some courage from that

And make the stage fright go away?

Step five.

FYI, they’re really not worth it

You’re not fighting the playground mafia here

You won’t get bullied now, if you don’t find a group

You won’t find that you’re out of the social loop.

Step six.

Who am I kidding?

No, this isn’t a commentary

Imagine, me?

Confident, stage-smart, street-smart, will-talk-to-clients-at-a-meeting

Me?

Commenting on introvert society?

What is this pseudo-sympathy?

So what if my ears are red right now

And my palms are sweatier than the last time?

But honestly

Have you seen those photo-series?

Behind the scenes of perfection?

The background to every airbrushed video?

The “seedy underbelly” of the show?

Did you wonder if that could be true

For people walking all around you?

Because here’s step seven, from behind the scenes.

Weigh your idiosyncrasies

Find which are okay with society

And if you play your cards right

You’re not weird, but quirky.

Which brings us to step eight

Wherein all you can do is wait

To either be found by, or to find

Someone who is of like mind

But this isn’t cause for celebration

Because then things hit new escalations

With step nine, you tread with care

You’re worried just how much to share

You’re mentally flipping through 25+ years

Of complexities, oddities and fears

And as you introduce each one

You’re fully prepped to see them run

Because you’ve watched these oddities take shape

And even you know you’re a little strange.

Step ten is for those lucky ones

From whom the audience didn’t run

Because now you can finally rest

You’re in the presence of one of the best

And you’re free to embark

On the next monumental task.

Step eleven is what we call sustenance.

It’s what forms the basis for everything else

Piece by piece, you build up on

Each step which has come and gone

So your marketing strategy is now in place
You're ready to launch; complete, with game-face...

But did anyone ever bother to ask...

Why do I need to strategize to ensure I get to socialize?
What even, are you offering as a prize?
The right to interact?

Where did it begin to go wrong?
How are we letting this go on?
Who gets to decide
Which person fits, and who is better off on the outside?

May I hazard a step twelve?
I've been using it, and it's treating me well.
Don't bother.
Really, stop.
Why should you market yourself at all?
Especially to just MAKE a friend
Because that's a beginning, and not the end.

Don’t bother with making a case for you.

You’ll find your niche, like back in school

You’ll find that one other little girl

Who finds it fascinating to be in your world

And you in hers, and that’s all you need

Don’t  bother to bring her up to speed.

You’ll find each others’ oddities

Before you find the normalcy

Ideally, one day, we can all move on

And leave the marketing wars to Flipkart & Amazon

Because we're all broken

We're all oddities

Without a return policy

And why shouldn't we be?

Nobody cares what happens to perfection

It will be fine, it's programmed to be

We're all looking at the flawed

Because that is where there will be magic to see.

Narrative

You see & I see
Almost exactly the same things
What could be, or may be
But we’re never in sync
You’re half full, I’m empty
And neither of us wins
You say & I say
We see such different things.

What you saw, I missed out
I looked the other way
And by the time you turned around
My frame had already changed.
But this was your world and mine
Not a worldwide release
That you & I saw differently
Was an issue for you and me.
Your truth & mine
No longer what we meant it for
A connection for two
Not a skype call with the world

The world knows what they see
A unit despite disparity
You & I separated
From the common story.
What they read into me
And what they read into you
So different from what we know
So different from our truth.

But who can keep the world away
When they’ve picked their sides?
Now it’s about who saw it right
And picked the winning guy
You saw what I saw
For the first time, aligned
What absolutely could not be
No two ways around this time.
Both glasses half empty
A part empties away
As the world counts their winnings
And our story fades away.

Beating Retreat - An Empty Apology

Do me a favour & let go
Not of the love
Not the love, ever
Let go of the fight
The constant ceasefire
The battle scars,
The lost men,
The open wounds,
Let go!

The constant reminders
Of how we could be better
The recaps, reviews
Let's put it behind us.
The armies are tired
Weary & worn
Battered, bruised
Beaten & torn.

So let the wounds heal
Though the scars remain
Let every heart beat
Wash away the fresh pain
Let the skin stitch
Where we broke it
Let things go back to the flow
Stay away, heartbreak.
Please, just let go.

Take Flight

Steps.
Rhythmic, periodic
Like pendulums ruled by formulae
Hypnotized, hypnotic
They never question; on they sway

It doesn't matter what time of day

You'll take off and land anyway

Just follow what the uniforms say

And if you'll please step this way..

Step by step like they are told
Isolated crowds though they fly alone
A social parody, a dark comedy,

Run without a flaw
Check in, security, the final boarding call

Willingly strapped
Into a place not of your choice
Hushed & Muted
Scared to make a noise
And break the sound barriers set in place
Unspoken rules of airplanes.

Someone else's flight plans
And some other man's rules
Veiled do's & don't's
That you "Choose" to don't & do

Step by step
Filling into stiff packaging
Conveyor belt compliance
Disguised as travelling

Or travel reminding you of airplane-discipline-life
Where pretty faces & authority guide you through the skies

A prisoner of pseudo independence
As you fly & feel "Free"
Periodically strapped back in
In the interest of your safety
Suggestions politely made
Cannot, do not, I'd suggest you don't
Of course you have a say!
The final 'choice' is all your own

Only do remember
If you fail to comply
The tinfoil prison you're in
Could combust mid-flight
And God-forbid the structural hit
And the sheer volume of loss
All because you failed to listen 
And pay attention to us

As you subside into your seat
In willing submission
The slow lethargy steps in
The stagnation of oppression
Fly by night and close your eyes
Dream of when you'll be free
One day you'll close your eyes like this
And head to an epiphany

Structure & Rules work for a start
But once you're in the air
Fixed, unmoving guidelines
Are better off not there

Once the doors close & you're wished a safe flight
Just how you land

Is in your hand
A perfect 10 
Or a blaze of light

Borders

Borders
Don't matter
When you're two beers down.

Borders
Stop existing
When you walk in & sit down

A drink or two
A smoke to share
And you're on your way

To a fleeting conversation
That's here to stay.

Share a light
A fry or two
And there's tales to tell
Borders
Will stop existing
And nations as well.

Borders
Don't exist
When you're two beers down.

Borders
Lose their meanings
Where there's real meaning to be found.

*Disclaimer:
This has nothing to do with political conflict. This is about the IDEA of borders.

#PartOfAWhole

"Shuttered against storms
Holed up in the dark
Removed, Forbidding
Nothing would pass"

...

They warned her
As she set out alone
Told her
It could not be done
The elusive, the flighty
What she tried to find
Didn’t really exist
It was all in her mind

But on she went
Undaunted
She knew what she’d seen
What she wanted
The flashes of light & the shutter removed
That’s what she aimed for
What she wanted to do



*This poem was originally about something very different.
But it could so easily be something more.

Asleep

I wonder who's watching when we sleep
When we curl up to block in the heat
When arms touch arms and chest to cheek
New rhythms awaken as we breathe.

I wonder who listens to that new beat
Lungs expanding & contracting peacefully
Fitting into crevices like they were made for me
Arms tightening around you more securely

I wonder who reads my mind just then
And knows what hasn't been spoken
I wonder who slows down time a bit
Without either of us realizing it

I wonder who's watching when we sleep
Who sees me struggle to keep
My eyes shut tight a little longer
Determined that morning will not conquer

I wonder if there's a way that they
They could find a way for us to stay
Undisturbed a little bit
Curled up together just like this.

The Tulsi

The gloom had descended before lunchtime.

Everyone around, adept at reading the signs of their world, started moving that much faster, in a hurry to reach shelter. He fought every urge to crawl into bed as the assault began.

The rain would stop, it would slacken and slow, at the very least, he was sure of it. 6 hours later, he was still chanting the same mantra... It will stop, it will stop...

Around him, there were rickshaws stalled, their drivers pushing them out of the traffic, drenched to the bone and losing money by the second. He knew he should be thankful that he hadn't met the same fate, but part of him wanted the excuse to stop.

Tired, exhausted and in the middle of a fight with his previous customer, at 8pm, he met her. Spurred on by habit, he responded with a "Haanji." when she asked him if he would take her where she wanted to go.

She got in, waiting patiently while he waited impatiently for his money. "Kya hua?"

That distracted him. Nobody usually cared... Who was this girl?

She was nice looking. Looked tired, but nodded in understanding as he told her his problem. Taking his money from the previous customer, he kickstarted his vehicle and they started their ride. "Ek kaam karoge?"

She wanted to go further, but wanted him to bring her back. She asked him if he minded. The unexpected kindness made him say yes.

It was a long ride. There was a mini flood. There was traffic. But she chatted with him... About his auto, about the tulsi plant he had bought that morning, about the traffic, about the rain... She spoke with him, not at him...

He looked back at her as he replied, once, and saw that she was looking right at him, interested in his answers, not looking at her phone or outside.

His vehicle had never felt like a chariot before. As he battled the waves of the monsoon, he felt like a warrior, taking precious cargo into a warzone. It made the day better; at 9.30pm, his day seemed brighter than it had at 2pm.

Dropping her home, he felt exhausted as he felt the vehicle get lighter, as she got out. With a light "Yeh lo bhaiyya, thank you!" she left, walking off, shaking her arms to get rid of the water.

He unfolded the notes she'd given him & stared at his meter. She'd overpaid.

He looked down at his tulsi plant, swaying in the momentum of the ride.

"Maante ho?" she'd asked him... If he didn't before, he did now.

Long Distance

Have you met love?
Love is mankind’s hero
It defeats all evil
Transcends all barriers
Brings people closer
And charts the quickest paths from A to B

Love takes two buses
Dives into rush hour traffic
Then hides until the coast is clear
 
Love travels to wintry, rainy, cold, uncomfortable places
But love… Poor thing
Is no match for distance

Nobody likes distance
Distance is love’s worst nightmare
Only pretends to make the heart grow fonder
And all the while making love’s job harder
With every trip
With every mode of transport
Love never gets closer, only further away
Because distance is winning today

Love isn’t about togetherness
Not anymore
Love is stuck with a phone call
Or a text message
Today, a voice note
Or a wall post
Love is a bunch of words on virtual paper
And a very, very long distance

Love fights a constant battle
A cartographer’s worst nightmare
Charting maps on demand
Building bridge after bridge
Spanning countries and cities and area codes
And career choices and homes and walls

And continuous business
To internet service providers
Because love is shared sunsets
Over skype calls
And a rousing discussion about movies
Watched separately

How can love catch up with us?
We’re not making things easy
Because we won’t stand still
We move on and on and on…
Your life, my life, different lives
You wouldn’t understand
You don’t get it
You had the be there…

But here’s the thing.
Sure there’s a story you’re not watching live
But every voice note lets you in on someone’s life
That wall post, the social media updates
That’s not compensation, that’s information

Your auto ride & OLA cab bills
Aren’t money, they’re investments

Love is standing on this stage
Walking into a room
Smiling like your jaw will split
Love is the hug and the dimly lit nights
Love is savoring every moment before the next goodbye
Heightening the feeling of each other’s arms
Love is laughing about sharing a beer in person
And forgetting the pain of drinking it alone
Love is the bus-ticket, train ticket, empty bank account
Love is a paper napkin in the back of your book
A memory card full of photos you had to laugh about together
A joke you had to be there to understand
But you get it anyway
Because you can see it happen in your head

Love is a vague notion
Every time something goes wrong
That you know who can make it right
It’s not having to be there to make you smile
It’s a cat video shared on your wall
A text wishing you happy birthday
Love is the last dance…
Late night conversations under streetlamps
Because who knows when you’ll talk like this again?
It’s talking like that again
And again
And again…

The empty space next to you isn’t taunting you
It’s giving you strength
Because there are people out there filling it
Right now
With their presence
You just can’t see them

The space doesn’t defeat love
The space reinforces love
Reminds you every day
That there’s love out there
That empty space is your catalyst
Pushing you for that weekend trip away,
Every new map of A to B
That’s love.

Love trumps distance
Because Love is not just the goodbye
Love is the welcome back.

Happy Old Year

There's nothing new about a New Year

Same messages, different number

Same resolutions to be broken later

Different settings on New Year's Eve

Same condition in which you'll leave

The year has gone, it's throwback time

To what you did with yours & I with mine

Did plans, resolutions & reality align

Different people, different friends

But it's the same. Every year ends.

It's not about the future at all

The turn of the year is nostalgia's call

To think of the past while you're enthralled

By the shining light of an unknown tomorrow

Your mind looks back on joys & sorrows

There's no other time for you to turn back

Once 1st Jan begins, you'll be back on track

Not that you don't want to, it's time you'll lack

So 31st at midnight, you look up to the sky

And think back to the year that went by

As cheers of Happy New Year ring out

It's a toast to all you thought about

A salute to the old, without a doubt

Because you would not be where you are now

Without the 365 you lived through somehow.

Inked

You'll be safe here
A memory. And a reminder.
Pencil fades, ink washes off paper
Ballpens... Seem to go on forever...

But soon we'll run out of ink
Papers will wear out, will rip
But you'll be safe, I know this
Because I can make your memory stick

I can't trust pen & paper to keep you safe
For years I tried, but always failed
Memories inevitably fade away
So I'll keep you safe in my own way.

This won't wash off, this will stay

Losing you now would mean
Ripping part of my skin away.

Why Didn't You Call?

"You know the bald dude? Gandhi? Father of our Nation and whatnot..."
She looked at him, upside down, sitting in the sky next to her, as he sniggered and nodded "Yeah, the bald dude..."
She ignored him "Yeah, him. Did you know he tried all the shit they warn us away from? He ate meat, drank and all, had women, and bro... BRO! He and a friend tried suicide once, too!"
She sat upright, in her excitement, looking at him through the haze and the hair falling into her eyes. He seemed to be tripping on something else completely.
"Hello?"
His eyes snapped back to her, looking at her silently for a second. "They should teach us that shit in schools and all. They teach us that we should be perfect like these people. Discipline, dedication, perseverance, blah, blah... We're programmed to fail and hate ourselves for it."
She stared at his face for a minute, trying to quell the rising urge to tell him things she shouldn't be telling him at all. Her brain wasn't as sharp as it should be, the haze was making it hard to think straight. She shook the cobwebs out, slightly and pulled the easy grimace back to her face. "You're just scared. Not like you haven't taken a chance na..."
He shook his head at her "That's not what I'm saying. Failing is not an option. You can't try and not succeed otherwise the bald dude will be disappointed."
She flopped onto her back, looking at the dim ceiling. "But we know he wasn't a saint. So we're good na? We know the inside story."
She blinked at a sudden shadow over her face "Why're you blocking my light, bro?"
"Move off, shorty, your tiny legs can handle sitting on the ground now. I'm getting cramped."
She squawked as he tipped her off the bed and took her place "You just shook the buzz out of me, you idiot!"
He sniggered at her, enjoying the indignation on her face.


I never expected to be standing here. I'm not sure if not knowing was a good thing or a bad one. I knew myself enough to know that if I'd known it was coming, I would have avoided it like everything else I avoided. One little lie, one quick exit and another evening alone.
Sometimes being alone was a good break, although the social side of me rebelled against it with everything she had. Sometimes I worried that there were too many conflicting parts of me and some day they would pull me into different halves. Today, I stood there, wondering whether I would've canned in this case too. There was more than people and society at stake here... And my brain was too occupied with flashbacks and other disturbing creatures. That night stood out... That was the last time we had chilled like that before life came along and made me this recluse & took him all over the country for things that caught his fancy. He'd made so many points that night which stuck with me, that my aim of staying away from him was basically moot. I ran as far from him as I could, but always ended up returning to that night. I ran through all life's failures keeping that night & its hazy life lessons in mind.
Now, as I snapped between past and present, I couldn't believe where I stood. His six foot something frame used to tower over me, and he took particular pleasure in leaning on his 'minuscule table'...
My mind couldn't imagine how that frame had let him fly like they said he had. How had one measly fitting taken the weight of his height?
How could all that laughter, all that intellect, all that sheer life have been reduced to this? One urn, a handful of dust, and empty space...


Thinking back, if they'd told me that they were bringing me here, I would have made the same old excuses and stayed in my corner. Because in my corner, there was no murderous fan, no tightening curtain, no empty spaces. In my mind, there was that night, and the one moment I let slip. There was a scared girl telling her oldest friend how she felt, and not one with a hollow space echoing with the fateful "What if".

Sepia

She could close her eyes and it was all right there in HD.
His voice took her back to days she had wished would never end.
The tree with those trailing tendrils in one corner, the cats running in and out of view, the uneven feel of the stone seating. She could feel herself back in those magical moments as sunshine faded to cool poetry. It was like they were back there, meeting awkwardly for the second or third time, and she could see the clear browns of his eyes.
The breezes kicked up as she heard him telling her about his night. He ran his hand through his hair, unconsciously, maybe, as he relived his memory. She saw him close his eyes and touch his forehead with three fingers as he spoke of the emotion that had taken his by surprise.
The lights came on, then, and shadows flew around the space they shared... His voice fluctuated from laden with memory to brisk and practical. His surprise laughs were like stray winds that rushed to catch up with the breeze that had passed by. His clear eyes has a disconcerting habit of looking at her, and then sprinting around, wanting to catch as much as they could, finding more stories to tell, more hearts to touch... Till Silence began descending, slowly, softly, and she knew it was nearing the end of her flash to sepia. He began to fade, concluding their conversation much before she was ready to let it go.
She frantically tried to go back; she closed her eyes, fervently hoping that this was a dream, and that in reality, there were really back there, talking about coding and social media. She wanted another chance to meet him for the first time, the second time, the 50th time... Not like this, not virtually. Work was virtual, this was life, this was poetry, this was potent...
And it deserved more than a WhatsApp voicenote in return.

Space & Time

Millions of hearts flew to Pluto today
A journey of 9 years covered in a moment.
What better way to avoid Heartbreak?
They'll be far away when things end.
It's far enough away to keep them safe
So many Clark Kents to populate
Hopefully they'll return one day
Super-hearts that just love and never break
For now, there's a sinking emptiness
A feeling of approaching doom
I can see my world coming to an end
I can feel the pull away from you
The room stretches and morphs around us
The few feet are now so much more
Memories don't fade, your voice echoes
My heart's better off sent to Pluto

Respite

Days come, and go away
Every day, that's how it stays
The monotonous expanse of
Day after day,
Today, tomorrow and possibly yesterday
But there's a difference, a little change
Between today and yesterday

When the sun sets on the monotony
And lights go on in the city
Suddenly, there's life
Where monotony used to be.

No longer lost in the glaring
The staring light of the nearest star
Dreams shimmer in the dusk
Shake off the day's dust
Beckoning to you, and you must
Respond

Because what else can you do?
When the promise of distraction
The brief respite of delusion
The break from the everyday
Calls you towards it?

The nights are the real deal
Where else lies the appeal of a world
Away from the drudgery
Of monotony?

My nights are mine to revel in
They're for imagining and  dreaming
They're stripped of logical reasoning
My nights are for me
To hope that I'm the dream that he
Goes to bed to see.

Hop, Skip and Jump

Out of all the women he saw on a daily basis, she stood out.

“Which is odd on so many levels…” he mused, lying in bed, looking out into the dark, “Because not only are they hotter, they’re also taller. And more insistent…”

But she had managed to catch his attention; and keep it, which was a bigger miracle. He’d seen so many people walk off that stage, but she had been the only person he’d been actively looking for. He didn’t know when his interest in poetry suddenly spiked, but now he was watching videos online, some, coincidentally, featuring her… Actually, all of them were featuring her; he still didn’t really give a rat’s ass about poetry.

His phone buzzed, surprising him out of his reverie. “Who’s still awake? It’s like 2am!”

He checked his phone and his heart skipped a beat… It was a text from her. “You’re awake?”

Ding

“I’m usually up at this time. And inclined to reply, coz the daft WhatsAppers are asleep.”

He sniggered. Sounded like an insane person. “But damnit, I like her insanity.”

He couldn’t wait to meet her; to talk to her outside of work, to play with that hair of hers… She was so alluring in so many ways, he couldn’t think of her without thinking of that first glimpse he got of her, shrugging off the jacket he now knew she always wore. He’d made a mental note to make sure he saw what she was like on stage, and when she’d stepped up, he had made a mental note to ensure he didn’t miss a single minute of her being up there.

Her eyes mesmerised him. And her hands, her hair, her grin, and oh holy God, all those expressions!

He smiled into nothingness now, as he thought of her inhumanly animated face. She was something else.

And he was going to meet her tomorrow. “Or, today, actually… It’s almost time…”

The thought gave him goosebumps. He’d be able to talk to her without work interrupting them, without friends watching, without that guy… She was always with some guy… Was she dating him? Anyway… He’d find out tomorrow, when they’d finally get to talk without a million pointless things annoying them.

***

The hands of his watch told him that their date had begun an hour ago, and here he was, still sitting in traffic. He’d called her, told her that he was running late, and had known from her response that she didn’t really expect him to make it. He couldn’t really blame her; he’d been planning to meet her every Monday for the last two months, and had to cancel. Even this meeting had been postponed, and he’d be damned if he let that happen again.

He heaved a sigh of relief as he reached, hearing her incredulity over the phone lines with a grimace. The next few minutes were the worst torture he’d been through. Suddenly, all he could think about was how annoyed she’d be, the surety that she was dating that guy, or that other guy, or maybe someone he hadn’t met yet, and it was insane.

“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself, “You’re the party-starter, you know how to get people talking. Get her a drink or so, and you’re in the clear.”

He sighed in relief as he saw her walking towards him. He’d been sure that this was never going to happen.

She was smiling, she was obviously not too mad “Oh my God, it’s really… You have a Royal Enfield?”

“Hi…”

Wow, that was an inane greeting… “Arre ya, I always wanted to buy an Enfield, they’re awesome bikes. Hop on.”

He twisted around at a slightly painful angle, just so he could see her as she hopped on. He grinned at her as she looked around absent mindedly for a place to hold on. “Shall we?”

She looked up at him, eyes grinning right back “What’s so funny? Never seen a short person on a bike before?”

He turned around with a snort, starting the bike with a sigh of relief. This was going to be fun.

***

‘She’s having a good time!’ his brain was screaming the joyous news at him as he looked at her excitedly talking at him. ‘At’ because he wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. She looked so enthusiastic, so happy, that he couldn’t do anything but look.

“So… I should leave…”

He snapped out of his reverie as she sighed and looked up at him, already moving herself away from the bike.

“DO SOMETHING!” his brain screeched. He couldn’t let this end so soon, it had only been… Four hours. He wanted more of her time, he wanted to see her like this, without a thousand people vying for her attention and pulling him away. He wanted to get her to stay back, not leave, give him more Mondays.

He reached out, hugged her and decided never to let go. Her hands wound around his waist, feeling perfect in the cool night. “Don’t let her go…” his brain told him.

“Don’t leave me… Stay here.” He told her.

She pulled back and looked up at him, eyes shining in the streetlamp “I would… But Bombay…”

He sighed “I know, I know… You do what you have to do.”

But he couldn’t let her go without letting her know that she was more than ‘those chicks you meet everyday’ that she kept talking about. He had seen her eyes shut down every time she said that, and now he knew she’d been freaking out about how many women he saw. She needed to know that she was different.

So he pulled her close, cupped her head in his hand and kissed her. He knew he’d done the right thing the second he felt her relax. This had been what she’d been waiting for… The sign she hadn’t expected. He loved how she felt in his arms, she was perfect, seemed to melt into his hug, he wanted never to have to stop kissing her.

***

He walked in to work that day and felt lonelier than he ever had before. She’d been here the week before. He could still see her with that amazing energy and that stupid sock on her hand. Everywhere he turned, he saw her absence, and all these women… But not the bundle of magic that she had been, every curl of her hair alive with her presence, every place a little brighter because she was there…

He heaved a sigh and went to work, unsure of when the bar would be fun again.

LHS =/= RHS

When the LHS and RHS disagree
There's a problem where it shouldn't be
In school, that was the issue
The only thing that bothered you
Math sums that didn't add up
Equations that refused to be solved
Marks that never came in
An enmity with math you never resolved

But that was then
And this is now
When people die
When equations
Don't add up

The sign
That defines
Equality
...is a pair of lines
Carbon copies
Mirror images
A pair of lines
Both the same

But that
That's math
And math?
It's about fact
It's about school
It's not reality
It's a tool
On your way
To adulthood

Unless the calculation
Needs revision
Because somewhere
Someone decides
That you exist
To prove a point.
You're the LHS that the RHS can't stand
You're the means to an end
You're the pivotal part of their plan

To rebel against math
To take revenge against someone
You don't even know
It's about authority
It's not school
It's a tool
To prove a point.
You never cared about anyway