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.

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.

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.

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.

Last Dance

Save the last dance for me
The one where the band
Recycles all the old beats
The one you'll debate sitting out
The night is almost over, you admit defeat
Lose that argument
Get off your seat
Because you're dancing that one with me.
That waltz where the floor's almost empty
Where by now, it's only alcohol, not energy
And it will be just you & me
And a dance we'll share for eternity.
Not the first, with the awkward moves
Nor later, the beats pulsing through the room
We'll wait for it, there's no hurry
As long as you promise to dance with me.
We'll hum quietly along to the tune they play
A mellow, sepia end to the day
It won't matter who you danced with in between
The last one, you will reserve for me.
So at the end of the day, at the end of it all
I know it will be me you'll call
Together, you & I, we'll fall
Into a rhythm that will play on
And it will happen so naturally
I'll hold you & you'll hold me
Nobody, nothing else left to see
Because you're dancing your last dance
With me.

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

One Second, Three Haikus

1.
As time stops tonight
And the world tries to catch up
Heartache lasts longer

2.
Everything halts
Two hands hesitate in place
And the clock ticks on

3.
She moves on ahead
Seemingly unaffected
Midnight hour rings

Climax

She fell back against her pillow, exhausted.
She had to take a few deep breaths to calm her rapidly beating heart, each breath escaping her lungs as a sigh. Lying in the comfort of her sheets, she closed her eyes, reliving the past hour or so, smiling at the memories, revelling in the complete satisfaction engulfing her.
"What a workout..." She whispered, her eyes still closed, "nobody prepares you for this stuff."
He had really pushed her to her limits, taking her to heights she didn't know she could reach. It had all escalated so fast, she still couldn't believe it. When her phone had buzzed, she had no idea it was the start of something so... "Phenomenal..."
She grinned to herself, aware that she was shamelessly boosting his ego, but she knew it was equally her contribution.
They had both been giver and taker, alternating seamlessly, supporting each other without needing to say anything. Like he'd read her mind, he had responded to every cue in fairytale fashion. And she'd loved having a hand in his responses, knowing that the increasingly intense reactions, the new responses, the involuntary reactions they had both experienced were what they had created together.
She replayed their conversation in her head, from the first message to the last, laughing at all the bad jokes, heart-rate increasing at every new level of intellectual stimulation and marvelling at his skill with words.
"Who knew a random conversation about nothing could be this intense an experience?" She murmured to herself, unlocking her phone to read the chat again.
He had the disconcerting skill of taking a simple chat conversation to dizzying heights. Which was why she was so hooked to him. It was a rush so much more potent than flirting, so much more real than sex; talking to him made her brain work on overdrive. It wore her out like no physical encounter could, nobody had made her feel this alive before, nothing had ever made verbal sparring this... Memorable.
"And the best part? It's all virtual... No expectations from this... No 'will he, won't he'..."
Chat over, end of story...
She flopped back into bed, smiled at the chat window once again before keeping her phone away, turning the lights off and sleeping an unparalleled sleep.

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.

Borders

I drew a line.
For trespassers,
Prosecution
You drew a line.
A layer,
Semipermeable.
Everyone has lines
Different lines, different rules
Boxing them in.
You hold them at a line's length
A box away.
But the world grew smaller
And smaller
And smaller still
Till there was no line's length
No boxes
Till we knew all our neighbours
We saw each other
Unrefracted
Through personal bubbles.

Story-Teller

He held the power to weave spells.
He didn't look like much, on the get-go, in fact, seemed like a mousy nerd-type.
But it was when he began to speak that I met her. She's the spell he creates, every time the same one.
She's got piercing eyes that look right into your soul, they build bridges from his soul to yours, actually. She laughs a lot, a sound that makes you wonder why his words are so sad.
Her hair, that's what gives her away. She looks like the girl next door, until you notice her hair. Her hair is shiny and straight, bobbed just under her left ear, and extending in gradually increasing lengths till it nearly touches her right shoulder.
That's her personality, the surprise of an offbeat haircut.
It's the lurking danger of a forest fire on a calm summer afternoon.
That's the reason he's got volumes of emotion to convey.
She's brilliant, as is he. And together, they were as much a perfect fit as they were mutually poisonous.
He knows she exists. I know I'm not the only once who can see her.
She floats around him, chuckling softly at his funnier lines, leaning against him when it gets emotional, and once, when he performed a poem I'll never forget, she stood next to him, holding his hand, all through.
He talks to her, and this is why; even though I've never met her, even though I suspect I'm smitten just hearing about her through his verbal assault on my senses, seeing how he is because of her, I hate her.
He weaves spells for us to get swept along with, so that nobody notices that this is the time he spends only with her.
He'll walk away, thunderous applause following him, oblivious to everything as she leads him, fading a little with every step.
He knows she's not really there, she's walked out of his life a long time back. He knows that it's his heartache to bear. He knows that she's living her life somewhere, laughing that laugh, hiding her volatility better, with a new haircut, new people in her life, with a new life.
He needs to write, needs to feel, needs to be there, on that stage, because if he fails to, she'll never return.
And so he'll be back.
Grinning at us all, making us ache for reasons unknown to us.
Because she'll be back, then. She'll hold his hand.

Pi

I always identified with you as a kid
A burden far too heavy to lift
It was more than thrice your value
But if anyone could do it, it was you

Whenever you came up, I was torn
Between options I'd to pick all on my own
But decimal or fraction,
You were a good distraction
From the host of calculations
Still to come.

Capable of being a part of many lives
Math or science, as you'd decide
Jack of all, integral to calculation
A multitasking force of existence
With a finger in many pies
Once in a while, a gastronomic surprise
The world would not survive
Without three point one four one five

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.

Out Of Sight

Not a shirt on my back, the song runs
It's like a cruelly worded pun
Now that I'm out of sight.

You had said it's not the end
Said we'd meet again
Said this was not what we began for
Said our road would run on longer.
I believed in your poetry
Had no doubts about sincerity
Till you showed me that out of sight was truly
A mark less to tally...