Free

Free as a bird - finally.
From the trappings of the past
Or the makings of the future.
Lighter than a feather-
My heart flies carefree now.
The black pools have not yet vanished-
Yet there is hope once more.
I have finally found me-
Amidst the chaos and the uncertainty.
You left my life with scars and pettiness -
Turned me into someone I am not-
Till I forgot-
Who or what was me.
Maybe its not yet over -
Maybe the times are yet to
Foretell more misery.
Yet placid and placated be I,
Thinking about my sanity now-
To love me and not look at being loved. 

A New Day..

I haven’t ever believed much

In deception.

Nor shall I ever try.

Sugar coated words are not

For me.

Neither are people

Who are too soft

To bear the sting

At times.

I move away.

Distancing myself from all

Who cramp up my space.

A certain sense of

Arrogance.

Raises its ugly head.

They’re not worth me,

I feel.

Scornfully- I appear judgemental.

Rightly so-

For the right and wrong

Shines out stark-

Black and white to me.

I dream about your hand,

Someday- leading me-

Out of this quicksand.

Saving me,

From my own quagmire.

Yet, a cynic in me,

Perhaps, chooses not to believe

In that too.

Coz the distance is what,

That binds us always.

I cant trust myself,

To be dangling anywhere.

The colour grey,

Is not for me.

I rather would lose

Friends- who are nothing but sham

Unto themselves.

Than always bow my head,

To their ignorance.

Praying, that the days would pass

By quickly.

Giving me no time-

To think or feel much.

I hate the stench-

Of mediocrity-

That this place has

Impressioned on me.

Expressive- yet again,

I cannot be.

I’ve lost my voice-

Unwillingly.

Dying to break out of this,

Pigeon hole.

Can’t bear this cooped up feeling much.

Dreaming of another

Start afresh.

With the right people.

The right music,

Always playing.

A new life-

Where the roads are

Walked carefree.

Days traversed through,

Happily.

Soon…that day too..

Shall come..

Streetlight

I had always imagined
A conversation with You,
Like this.
Sitting on a bench-
Far away from the eyes of omniscience.
In another city ,
In another time.
I had always thought of talking,
Out loud-
Voicing the thoughts of the Coward,
Mostly escaped from.
I had always wanted to show you,
The New Me,
That Time has framed -
And the ways of Life has sculpted.
So far.
See the changing expressions in your eyes,
As you digest them all.
Would I be seeking your approval still?
Child-like parts of me would ,
Obviate the grudged affirmation.
I had always wished for a careless meet,
As old friends,
With traces of the past,
Lingering benign,
As a happy after glow.
We shall talk and laugh,
All that we must-
Without any fire or ire-
That had besieged us for so long.
Free from certain shackles of social rigors,
That choose to settle on us-
That we choose to abide by.
Mostly - at times.
Yet there always would remain,
The zest to know more-
From afar.
The careful watchful eyes,
Shadowed.
Somewhere, the essence created long back,
Gets deepened without touch.
We don't need that.
We are wiser now.
As the novelty of the moment,
Bestows on me ;
Myriad images of the endless hand-held walks,
Our foot prints, through the sands of Time;
Flash across-
As my brown eyes,
Seek yours in the street light.
The green in yours-
Liquid Pools of Empathy.
Soft and Mellow-
As you look at me-
The look the same,
That had been 'mine'.
There is peace in companionship-still.
A chord effervescent,
Neither ever catalyzing the flow.

Drapetomania

Did you see that ashen face?
With the smile turned to smoke?
Did you ever stop to think about,
The glassy eyes -
That stood out like opaque dots.
Black pearls -
All seeing yet not so.
The cheek bones strike out -
Jaunty yet haughty.
The touch of grief
Hangs loose-
On the skeletal frame.
The clothes seem to be crisp-
Newly washed. Freshly ironed.
A facade?
One may wonder
Seeing the frail frame-
If love had ever touched it.
Withering flower -
Burnt, spurned and churned,
Yet standing upright.
The scrawny neck sinewy-
Stretched afar to focus on the yonder.
Drapetomania -
The mind cried out silently.