Listen!

I do want to talk to you. Only you would understand. I say thus in a fervent hope that you do, because if even you don't, It would confirm I am living in a vacuum, nay, a sceptic vacuum. Not even a single sound returning to my ears. I want the echo, I want it to come hit me again and again and again, even if it is hard to bear. I want some air to fill my lungs every now and then. Sometimes I tire of giving answers. I may tire, but I am relentless. Is that good or bad?

It's foolish what people take from this School or any school for that matter or brandish as if they have learned anything. It's foolish its people, it's also foolish what all these people here have learned. They need no learning. It's unlearning that signifies. Wash the sins of their bigoted thinking and then perhaps learn to read and write. Perhaps then learn how to take up the pen again and begin afresh with the alphabet.


Pardon me my misdemeanor and lack of propriety or even calm. But I must write or I just won't, yet again.

I will come back. Perhaps explain what's going on.

nada!

life shows you much when you are single and have been for some time now - out of choice you may say, or lack of options. 

be the girl. be the 'other' girl. be the ex. be the probable. be the most probable. be the new younger one. be the new elder one. be the muse. be the derelict. be the envious. be the envied. be the recluse. you on top. the other on top. wanted. wanting. a hundred no's and a single yes.

nada!

the two of me

There's two of me

and I can see both

so distinctly

entwined yet estranged

they are from one another.

At times

my eyes falter

and mist befalls

but there, right there

before me - this once

there's no mistaking me

stand

the two of me

One lives by the

rush of day

and the other enlivens

at the hush of night

a cloak worn

and a cloak worn off

concomitantly

in the knowledge of all

and in ignorance too

there, right there

before me

breathe

the two of me

extracts

"The journey is my own but you give it momentum, you give me a push and I take off. Soaring high, breathing in life till I hunger like a child and quietly land by your side. As if to be with you is all I have known. With you I learn and surmise, I sit, drink, eat and play with my words and make love, yes."

"You wanted it once, you want it no more, you might or might never feel it again. Your calling is something else and the rest must be a distraction for you. As life unfolds I might be standing nowhere for miles around. I like you for all that as much as I would like you to come to me. Because I like you taking decisions. And I realise that nothing is for ever. I'd like to witness your journey - back and forth - in ideas and forms, if it is meant to be."

"My love finds peace when you actualise your self. Each moment that you live for your self I feel you're freeing me. If you are an extension of me then how can I begrudge you your freedom? How can I ever resent your decision?"

truth and the shadow of it

It makes me smile. The fine lines that demarcate and alienate truth from the shadow of truth. Most of us, most of the time weave our lives with utmost care and precision around what is but the shadow of truth. We take the shadow to be real, beautiful even in the pain it can cause, somewhat liberating too. And in that knowledge we feel the glory of being truthful, righteous even. But more often than not it is an imitation that we so love and hold close to our chest. Not that the shadow is untruth. But the truth lies elsewhere even as we love the shadow most profoundly. And the truth - we'll be surprised - is even more beautiful if only we have the nerve for it.

It's not often that you meet someone with whom you can see the fine lines magnifying, enhancing in contours. Unmindful of any fear or reproach. Bereft of all censure. It's freedom you feel then, because you can see. The world is always trying to make the lines blurred for you, to fool you further - and to fool you as a matter of its wont. No motive is of import. If you cannot see the lines, you are not to blame - you're absolved ab initio. Those who choose to see must to go through a stricter scrutiny at every step. It is an imprecation for their possessing the faculty of sight. A curse for which they must pay. If you can see Thestrals, you would have witnessed death.

The truth is fantastically simple, so simple that it takes ages for our shadow-fed mind to identify. The shadow of truth is pleasing to the heart, more pleasing than the truth. The shadow makes you feel free, makes you feel good even as you embrace your pain bravely, believing (?) that you've been truthful. It makes you feel you have matured in that you now embrace such pain. Tired with your unending fantasy, smiling at your misplaced enchantment for it, Truth stands there. Looking helplessly at you two dilapidated lovers.