Ides of March

Walking in loops and circles
With ear-phones on-
The song that moves,
Doing rounds,
You think back to the year
And the series of What-Ifs or Never-Hads.
A quixotic year,
Chaotic supreme,
And a drudgery through
The wafer thin rays of sunshine.
Music plays on,
Trying to evoke the submerged emotions,
You pull the hood low-
Cover eyes.
You want the tears to fall,
But they remain numb too.
You meet childhood faces of joy,
And realize that it's a long forgotten word,
Indeed.
You look up at the twinkling lights,
Adorning the street of dreams-
Park Street comes alive in all it's glory-
And besotted you are touched by the magical realism
Of the moment.
Long to escape,
Run away to regain life
And another shot at happiness.
You look back at the childhood face again -
It looked resigned and disinterested.
The happiness around,
Didn't seem to touch either.
The two faces have lost their route to innocence,
Or the truth in it's meaning !
In fact, the merry revelry,
Seemed distant and fake-
Artificial in it's rancor.
It augured ugly in it's smirk.
The music in the head droned on-
Urging the insane to laugh at the own debacle.
Looking at the inane then,
From the parental eyes,
It's a spectacle surely !
The charade holds together,
By weak stitches sewn in dread.
Unable to meet the wise eyes,
The chameleon resorts to the cover of hood.
Yearning for Ides of March,
To mark the flight to freedom,
And charting the course,
Along the mind map,
The sheathed eyes,
Scorch the azure blue above.
Spring time,
Must then bring a step and a rhythm,
To the jump,
As the rabbitty prints scurry far away-
For shelter,
In an unknown wood.
Maybe with the dying notes,
And gilded embers-
That wreathe the joyless, hapless and loveless
Will peace come too,
As also the end.

Eyes

There's a certain one,
In my borrowed world-
Who makes my skin crawl.
The sight irks me,
Day in and day out.
The obnoxious vox,
Oozes artificiality-
As it sugar-coats all hidden intent.
I despise slyness,
I dislike under handedness-
A fair player,
I reward me with silence mostly.
I encourage a halo of peace all around me,
For I cease to exist in the moment-
But snap back to reality as soon.
Despite, a wandering mind,
I do have capacity for details-
Where I don't want the fox to trot on!
Therein lies my ire-
Of hearing tangible fakeness-
Reminders set as hungry ring-tones.
Given the holes in my world at present,
Or rather the lack of it-
I'd hoped for the human contact to be minimum-
Yet ironical be my prayers.
Dreams and life bear an inverse relation, indeed.
So the mule,
Prances about-
With honeyed words
As it's lances.
Untying the laces of my control.
Goosebumped, I shiver-
In silent anger at the parsimony of space.
Run my fingers through now,
My almost waist touching hair-
To breathe and calm down.
The fight rages on,
Behind shut eyes-
And when I open them-
I am greeted by more of the syrupy smile.
I seethe inwardly,
Praying for a magic carpet.
Yet once when cooled-
I look at my object of consternation,
With awe and fascination-
To evoke so much in the otherwise wooden me.
I see the loose clothes,
Draping the scrawny self-
And the uncombed hair,
Untamed and uncared for.
I see a fierce determination,
Behind the yellow frames-
Which otherwise I term 'sly'.
I see the deftness and tenacious perseverance,
Exhibited at multi-tasking,
In the crunched space that
Time affords.
And as I let my eyes,
Take in the little things,
I find myself, quite humbled-
With a cry,
I realize,
That was it not me
A couple of years back-
Just like this, maybe.
I have changed-
Yes, I know.
Colder, angrier and more warring-
I know my own warren by now.
Loveless, I share little joy with most-
Callous and hard,
I stare as I absorb.
But as I gaze into the wide eyes,
Do I see a streak of vulnerability lurking within?
I step back,
Analyze my own thoughts-
Question my own feelings-
Past my constant numbed state.
Is it that,
I am scared to see the soul stripped bare?
Maybe, cynicism has earmarked the darkened me now-
Insouciance pervades into my cellular being.
I define my space as absolute-
Not to be trodden by anyone.
I care in my acre-
For some close-
Knowing fully well,
That none is reciprocated anyway.
Yet as I look at the bewildered brown eyes,
In front me-
Do I feel compassion well up?
Or is it solidarity,
To have sensed one of my own?

The Countdown

Counting the days off to the end,
Wonder what stopped me from my own end.
Slitting veins and seeing the blood pour?
Surely not cowardice-
Maybe a certain text message from the soul sister,
Jarring me back to reality.
Or maybe the thought of my parents-
Without me,
There'll be nothing for them to live for.
But, if I am the only one-
Then most certainly,
That's their doing.
Not mine-
Not a mistake, I shall bear.
At my darkest pit,
I find peace,
A requiem for solace-
Maybe, I may too savor a piece of me.
I think of the bitch face,
I troll at-
The she-male might be reading  this now-
Ah, not my doing.
How I wish to dig the knife's edge through
Cracks of the crack that shapes part of my world now.
Walrussy the looks,
The fangs almost grimace into a menacing smile!
Pity floods over me-
At the sordid existence of such a waste.
I even laugh,
At the cause of it all-
Quite a comic sense of relief,
That thought alone.
Of laugh and love-
Or laugh in love-
Or laughing love!
Nah ! I shan't-
I respect thy shadow.
So, taking my mind off to a merrier territory-
I see that
Bitch face too smiles,
I think-
Sadistic the soul,
The sagging body derives joy,
Quite Scrooge-like.
Well, that set of people,
Have their own ends to meet.
Last laugh, they cannot have.
Darkness invades their pores.
It's the final countdown,
In my mind-
As I berate the heart too to
Reign in tantrums.
The soles of my feet,
Itch, as they inch towards,
A certain sense of salvation.
Maybe self-love,
Ought to win.
Let the wonder prevail-
Beseech as I forsake.
Maybe smoke up and stay up
Through the night-
With the wild and the random-
Living the 'Hollywood' life-
Would you care?
I think not.
For bitch face barks as it harks out-
Expletives in it's broken chord-
At the sexy back turned on me.

Onus

This is a conversation with my Sonu,
And things I need to say-
To re-strengthen certain unsaid vows-
And re-affirm our faith.
Love supreme,
Does rule all five senses,
But where we stand today,
Is a path-
To deeper woods-
Maybe a way through all
Malice and Wanderland-
To a certain Tomorrow Land.
It's difficult to trod over,
The thorns in search of a throne-
But together,
Nothing seems impossible to conquer.
By you,
I stand strong-
Let you be tall for me too.
Let your hands,
That I know so well-
Guide both of us through.
What I am in your eyes,
Is a matter of utmost concern-
The magic never fails to startle me-
As also the force to change to the silent urge,
Of being your image.
But not a mirage-
I disagree,
My identity now,
Maybe capped by you-
And willingly shall I submit to the hold.
Yet, firm I must stand,
In my own conviction of my own claim.
I look into your eyes-
Lovingly caressing the velvet depth-
I see eons stretched-
Writ as our holy grail.
I see the frames that silence engulfs,
As maybe you struggle with words,
You have to express.
As you should,
For I must hear you out too-
As it's my lifeline to live.
Your halo sheathes me-
I bask in it's glow-
Do you feel my warmth too,Sonu,
As our shadows cross unseen?
I kiss your hands,
In the dark-
Feeling the quiet strength reside
In the veins.
Trace patterns across the face
Much loved-
Yes, I must hear you out loud
And in full.
In our search for peace,
Questions war against solitude-
Not as daggers that draw blood,
But alchemic stones,
That enhance our golden sheen.
You shimmer as you stand strong,
Never let the shine dampen-
For me too,
As I stare in awe at your magnitude,
Of being and seeing.
I promise silently,
Unto myself as I pray for your happiness-
To always reach out to your core,
And soothe storms
As I stretch against limits,
To know and feel you better.
Understand you more,
And be closer than before.
Love the mind that lies behind,
The sharp eyes that miss nothing.
No matter the pain points
Or complaints-
They're minor after all-
The wholesome feeling that you bring to me-
By being you,
Is irreplaceable a crescendo!
I love the nurturer in you,
Reap along with you,
The seeds of wonder.
Yes, our love may raise eyebrows-
But we shall fight out the odds of it too-
As long unity lies in concurrence-
For I cannot not,
Give you all that you desire.
In you, I find my completion,
Unknowingly, I had stumbled upon my soulmate-
And now, it's too late to retrace the precious steps,
To reclaim a weary living of a facade-
Or perhaps a dumb charade.

Unanchored

Channels of thoughts,
Like concentric orbits-
Rage on - muted,
Like a systemic collision.
Curled up,
I mark the degenerated,with austerity,
As progress remains quite banal,
And the finale set in regress.
If the nerve center, be on a spoke.
Then life seems to be in 24 different directions-
All at once.
Mayhaps, all this,
All at once-
Is a wake-up call.
To brush my present with sanity,
And come back to life.
Hit the pause button - rewind.
Maybe the hour long conversation
Which ensconced 100:1 ratio of words minced-
By you and me-
Did have an effect.
Pontificated absoluteness,
Presaged me.
As the two worlds,
Came sharply in focus.
Perhaps, I am really not
Meant for the severity that numbers impose,
On me.
It's a drudgery, then -
This trajectory.
Linearity, is not me.
Yet, that's where,more so often,
I find myself wandering.
Trying to choose the right path,
From all 24 different directions.
I should live for me-
Give up all folly.
All dogmatic foolhardy ways,
And irrational hopes.
Dreams kill.
Kill dreams.
Be an active, to my passive.
Be self-reliant,
Than a reluctant pliant.
You tell me to hold on,
Keep the faith alive.
But all I see,
Is the clock ticking away-
To glory?
I wonder,
How can I,
And how long-
When we're fast diminishing proximity-
And drift to far-away nothingness.
Nothing shared-
Nothing gained.
You slowly become,
Just another face-
Just another abstract foothold.
It matters,
Who I am in your eyes.
Careful, thence,
I re-think most actions-
Keeping your vox in perspective.
I wish not to perturb the disturbed,
But increasingly,
The after-effect is a weakening,
Of self-identity.
At times,
You seem like a stranger-
I know not what brings
The many creases alive.
I think about ,
What truly gives the flotsam,
Some relief and joy.
But the answer now lies
In oblivion.
As all traces of old innocence,
Seems to have evaporated.
Maybe, there's an expiry date,
To self too-
Like a snake,
We exfoliate too.
Dissolve
Absolve
Resolve
- yet flow on-
Un-anchored.

Wooden

I wake up alarmed,
The groan of pain seems unsettling-
It's new for me,
To hear the discomfort.
The seething pain seems searing,
Burning a bright hole in the lung.
Breathing seems difficult-
Yet as an observer, I wonder,
The relevance of the irony.
In the middle of the night,
As I sit up,
Cradling the hot steaming mug,
I think about the strange phone conversation-
How it happened out of the blue almost-
A wake up call?
Could be.
I am supposed to feel weird-
To know the progress in your life,
But I hardly feel much.
Care and concern-
Yes, somewhat.
But nothing more-hence I abstain-
From reaching out to you to even talk.
Could be fake from my side-
May deride or denounce your emotions.
I respect them.
I stay away.
What persists,
Is a strange line of thought-
As I try capture the meaninglessness of it all.
The point of the story being
That nothing so far-
Had any point, after all.
Dreams dreamt-
Shatter in a millisecond-
As hearts change-
And course lives too- in a heartbeat!
Thoughts turn to the ever present reality-
Which borders on surreal.
I smile,
Again, I may ask -
What's the point of it all?
My time is running out on me.
I feel strangely wooden-
With most lyrics and reactions frozen.
I wish you well-
Bid you peace.
In my mind,
In my heart-
You have brought nothing but that.
I have not. I cannot.
An innocent face,
Flashes up.
Do I feel love for it?
Could be.
I cannot define what love is-
Or any reason for it.
I would wish to protect it-
Even from me-
As also it's father-
Much away from me.
Not sure at about the whole gamut of all that I feel -
Just old and strained.
Mostly, I believe that I have lost all my emotions-
With passive eyes thus-
I watch most-
See through it all-
The farce-
The upholstery that holds all gilded edges.
I cannot not want happiness,
For all those around me.
Even for the one,
Who seems strangely calm and lost now-
Unsure of where life is- so drifting through his escapism.
The sojourn was an eye-opener-
Comfort barrier breaker,
As I could sense you  more.
But not react much to anything.
Yet, I would wish,
That you mend it all-
In your own time-
For I sense a strange cynicism lurking close by-
That scares me if it sets fire to your future.
But all these,
Seem to happen from a distance-
As I feel rudderless and motionless-
Waiting for time to race by me.