Young

 I remember reading storybooks with their nice endings and pretty imagery, sometimes it struck me odd why the opposite was rarely discussed, just the fear built about it fenced the plot. I realize now that stories like those were an escape from reality; a world with perfection is not real, and the real world does not always care for the disproportionate shareholders of love. It is not just, but it is an equalizer for the suffering and joy that comes with the pain of being unable to love someone. I wrote this when I began thinking of real world love, a perfection that is unable to happen because time & space dictate against it. It is called "2 lucky souls": Isn't it sweet, isn't it sweet Two lucky souls who never get to meet One falters with love, the other repeats Divided by distance, united defeat In the same line of sight is this poem, called "These streets": Sipping, talking about nothing; whistling, nodding wondering things, what if we belonged tog...

This is for dadi (1935-2021).  Sometimes I can't reach you Like sun rays filtered by layers of small rivulets, unable to touch the bed I am unable to reach you Beside your bed I find my eyes marveling at the beauty of time, how it sinks and rises like ravines on your skin Reddening your flesh from within Inhaling life and exhaling your living Inside your eyes however, grey circles circumfere the brown of your youth It reminds me you were sweet and small once Surely a little tinier, mind full of thoughts and words like whispers You whisper now, with great effort Experiences have shown you humankind  You tried to show me, only  kind humans You were kind I see in myself what you tried to show me all this while A soul of my own finding it's way Your own soul seems to be achieving it's purpose I believe in God only in times like such When I think and I think without saying much Tell me stories, make them never end I don't like endings I don't like them

I was thinking about what motivation really means to me, and I realized that whenever someone tries to be encouraging, they say something along the lines of "You can do it" or "Try harder" It is not enough...they should say "now" "You can do it, do it now" "Try harder, now" "Don't give up, now" It prompted me to write something silly, it feels a little incomplete but I want it to be that way. This one is called "Confident Loser" Confident loser, keep doing your thing It hardly matters what they are thinking When you fall, you won’t be a winner winner You do your best, be a confident loser loser When you say “I’m okay”, there is diffidence In your eyes, a slight misery, it’s evident You’ve never been the bread winner winner And now you want the throne, shimmer shimmer At least you have goals, they shouldn’t laugh It’s obvious you’ll struggle, it’ll pass But you need to move a little quicker quicker Co...

He is no more than 4, but no one can tell That amongst all the fanciest, he owns the costliest cell And from the look of things, there is no shame on her face- The mother just smiles, though somehow out of place Stares and admiration, as she struts down to work Two layers of makeup add to her quirk And from the look of things, there is no shame on his face- The man who secretly likes her, always out of place He tips his hat as she passes by And returns as a butler in the mansion of a rich guy And from the look of things, there is no kindness in her eye- The widow of the billionaire out of place inside- She cries in satin tissues; could never become a mother As servants tend to her desires, she realizes she has no one to love her And from the look of things, there is gratitude on his face- The man who is her lawyer, wants only to take her place He wishes cruel curses and waits for time to turn But at home, the cheeks of his wife let teardrops burn She mistook him for a lover, but on the...

I wrote this a few years ago, maybe it makes a lot of sense today too. Faces Grow up, people change their face Their styles differ from previous days Their manner of laugh and walk is graced By what their peers had grimaced Some people change from time to time Like colors of autumn so sublime Like distractions of their youth at prime Its different now; in-different times The mask falls off, sometimes in awe Ignorance casts it off as flaw But the true cards begin to draw Like the poker face sucked through a straw It does not matter how long it takes The friendship seems to slowly break And once the diamonds shine like fake You come to realize your own mistakes It bites, it stings, it is heat on flesh The desire to somehow start afresh But the clock ticks on and memories fade: Blurred warm winds of murky jade, The poison works, you get the hint When you see the same face in another wint -But the lessons learnt of yesterday Will get ...

Dada Grandfather was the best example   Grandfather was the best example. So I wrote his name neatly on my exam sheet. The hall was abuzz; pencils scribbling and paper scraping against each other as the examination time neared the final bell to submit. “I have a handsome grandfather”. I wrote in my best cursive. With two minutes to go, I was done with my examination answers. The teacher quickly found my hitherto bobbing hand raised meekly above the heads of surrounding students. The smell of fresh paper brushed against my nose as ma’am picked up my answer sheet without looking at my desk. My pencil was knocked to the floor. The question paper crashed silently at the feet of ma’am herself. She apologized quickly and threw a glance at the last question, circled by my very own pencil as I had prodded a lot before answering that one. “Q4. Make a sentence with the word ‘ grand’ ”. Ma’am let her eyes rest on my face before returning me the paper. Then she turned and allowed me ...