Harsh

Do you miss me at all,
Now that I am gone-
Without a whisper-
Without a trace.
Do you feel any charred void-
In your chagrin-
Or just a sordid indifference-
Of my absence.
Do you feel whole again-now-
With your eyes alight in relief-
A zealous guardian of your space and time?
How deep do the wounds run?
How far are we scarred?
Every time ours paths criss-cross,
We mar each other-
Our words of pain and agony,
In their trail,
A bitter aftertaste.
Push and pull-
Erode and corrode,
The fast diminishing breathing space.
In the place of love,
Animosity digs in its ugly roots.
As our love bites dust,
Grinds to the ground,
Do you smile your twisted smile?
You have moved on-
I am stuck in my same.
How far ahead are you?
Wont you look back at me-
A downtrodden self-
Fallen fast from,
That mantle you had placed me,
High on.
What made you so heartless,
What defined the harshness of your actions?
Veiled contempt-
Barely hidden in your eyes-
You had looked at me then-
Cold eyes marking out your own-
Solitary territory.
Your hand never reached out
For mine.
Your eyes were not the caress,
That were mine before.
Feelingless- you kicked me out-
Expecting me to find my own,
Hunted way back.
Regain strength in my faded glory.
Maybe I shall.
When I stop my need of you.

Fallen Glory

Night brings the loneliness,
Solitude resplendent-
Fallen glory,
My thoughts turn to you.
Past merges with the Present,
As Future looks grim and bleak.
Faded dreams,
In tatters-
Hopes in blue rings of ash-
Settle all around me.
The butts pile up-
As the shots reach a fever pitch.
I try to wipe off the image of you,
From my brain-
Your scent- lingers in my blood.
Passively pensive,
 I watch in my mind's eye-
The happy past streaming by.
All that remains-
Are broken smiles.
You may have been the victor,
In this battle against Fate.
Yet do you feel the sticky sweetness
Of your ugly joy tonight?
Do you at all-
Turn back to watch me-
Or have you really been so heartless-
To turn your back to me-
And watch me die slowly?
An ache- a void- consumes me-
My palate is bitter.
Devoid and barren-
I feel distant from my own self-
As my self-belief is left shaken.
The core of me is repelled-
Appalled- at the inevitable.
Yet I force myself to live on-
Exist ceaselessly in insouciance-
Living in pain-
Living in the past.

Cold

The lines of real and unreal,
Fade away into oblivion-
Cold fingers grip my heart,
As the numb finger tips cradle
A cold coffee cup.
The hard eyes- devoid of emotions,
Stare across the miles,
Turning the pages of HIStory.
Wondering - Pondering-
Wandering.
Amazed at the mazes,
That had been woven for so long.
Questions linger-
The more comprehension
I seek,
The more entrenched I get in the selfish muddle.
Lips pursed- in a blue line.
Code red flashes in my brain.
Logic and Love act at loggerheads-
To believe or not to believe.
Cold winds rustle my mind-
Yet refreshing nothing-
But throwing me deeper in thoughts.
I wish I could turn back time.
'Coz despite the confounding twists and turns
Of an empty fate-
My happiness remains tied with You.
The 5 years,
Seem nothing but fake and hollow today-
Yet a chunk of me,
Reasons against reasons-
To be still in love with it all.
No hope- all say-
I want to believe-
That the man I had believed above All,
Would still love me deep in his heart.
But he acted like his biological self-
And gave it away- to someone else.
My sorrow- knows no bounds-
Just now settled in a cold slumber.
My eyes, search for his face-
In the crowd.
But hopes despair-
What I cherish - now must perish.
'Coz he had killed it all.
He killed me with him too.
Killed my belief in me-
As my faith in faith itself.
I wish It were not so-
And he could be a man
Cold- dumbs my senses.
I am still in love with him.

Opprobrium

Tearless, I close my eyes.

As numbness besets my mind.

Weakness corrodes my senses,

As the shambles of all,

That I held dear-once-

Jar all around me.

The breaking pieces-

A crescendo of the wailing banshee.

Silent screams reverberate -

They echo around my hollow inner being.

No longer, can I feel, 

The bright fake spark of Optimism,

Ignite in me.

No longer, 

Can any facade 

Spur me on.

Broken, I back-trace my pace,

Knowing all roads lead to that dead end.

The kohl runs free now.

Devoid of its obloquy.

Chained to my solitude,

Remorse-struck,

I blame me,

For this grief-

That holds me a prisoner-

In its ignominy.

There could not be a last goodbye-

Nor even a last glimpse-

Of that smiling face,

That had instilled so much faith.

There could not be 

The last gun salute-

Of a man fiercely worshiped-

And a grandfather endeared.

The growing up years,

Of the many hues,

Illumined by His presence-

Wizened by his strength.

His words fill me now.

Take me in - down under.

The passage of years,

Crash by over me- 

Breaking and Shattering,

Into a million pieces-

All brittle- the cherished memories.

In my mind,

I refuse to disbelieve my childish belief,

In his existence still,

On that chair and desk-

Spreading knowledge all around.

The trophies that  adorn the walls,

The books that line the shelves-

Gather rust-

They miss the touch too,

Like his many disciples tonight.

My angst runs down in endless rivulets,

As I brood silently- 

Ruing the distance.

That separates Time, Space and Agony.

Stigmatized, I await the unwinding,

Of the second's hands-

Into more of its nefarious mysteries.

Lamenting the Loss,

I am no longer Me.

I am a bereaved mourner in Black-

An effigy of self-reproachment.

Disoriented.

Its no longer the green notes,
Nor the pocket  tones -
Its no longer the thrill of freedom,
Nor the peace with solitude.
Every day- is a disturbed reality.
Where the line between reel and real-
Seems to have merged solidly.
There's a chunk of me-
Amiss.
Not really sure of what
Or who-
Every day is a stretch of the monotony.
In itself- a minor agony.
Things I dream of,
With eyes wide open,
Places I see-
In my mind's eye.
None fictional.
All lived and laughed through.
I miss the greens and the rains-
Idle times over the coffee steam.
With smiles of the people,
I lovingly call friends.
I miss the music,
Your company could create.
The way the violin,
Would tug my heart.
The way your voice reverberated,
With all that you felt,
As the words uttered
Had the sharp sting of incision-
That could free the chains,
That shackled our emotions.
Crazy were those times,
When I pillion-ed on your bike-
Listening to revelations,
Letting the 'sleeping pill'
Take its effect on me-
Watching old sagging aunties hooting,
At your good looks.
The way we loved music and  lassi,
Fountainhead and  the fish family-
Riding on and on,
Unbeknownst of the hour-
Watching the moon sparkle
In the night sky.
Times I sit and think back-
To those conversations under the moonshine.
Where we exchanged dreams,
And traded paths of filter.
How your glasses would gleam-
With the zeal you could share with me.
The gravity of the words-
Tempered with your well-known humour.
Letting the waves caress  my feet,
I watched you with her.
And knew all that you felt.
Amidst so many,
I knew you felt so lonely.
I had let my gaze linger,
Wishing that the thoughts would
Somehow magically transform
 Into words which only she could hear.
Many a times,
I had known when you had
Let silence close the distance.
Yet among us all,
You had been the gem-
By far.
In my mind flashes,
The first day you walked into class,
With the ponytail and shining specs.
A nerd , I thought-
Happy to be proven wrong.
Time and again,
You've been there,
As my solitary pillar of,
Strength, belief and support-
When the umbra of the tides,
Had been too much to tackle-
All alone.
With gratitude, I look your way-
As my anchor- keeping me rooted.
This bond, strengthens,
With each day-
As a part of me-
Etched, ingrained-
Vintage- in its essence.
I let my thoughts remain,
In your direction.
At the memories of
You and Me.
The way we could
Always feel at one-
Despite the distance.
I could never feel more alive,
Than when with you-
When you would always lead the way-
With my hand in yours.
Or laugh into my eyes,
Mostly at me.
The way you set the floor on fire,
With all eyes your way.
The way we would
Dare to dream-
And craft the divergence
To converge,
At a time and space-
Suitable to our pace.
So long had we,
Encrypted our own brand of humour-
That even with others-
I yearn for  that sly spark and sheer wit.
Our knowledge of each other,
Runs deep-
With which we choose to love and hurt-
Yet treasure it all-
As a seamless part of Us.
Disorientation thus mocks me,
At every hour-
When I think back,
To my missing pieces.
My jigsaw puzzle thus,
Remains incomplete.

For my Ol' Man.

So long had I,
Associated that,
With the scent of you.
Back in those innocent days,
When that smell-
Would symbolize your proximity.
Each night at nine,
Would run to greet you-
To embrace that smell-
That drew me to you.
Heralded your resonance-
In me.
Acceptance without questioning-
Was the inevitable part in me-
Unconditionally.
My 'id' would drive my need.
As I hunted all over-
For the smell of you,
In your absence.
As wisdom came with age,
And I knew the source of it-
I had never stopped you-
As the sadistic part in me-
Would continue its search-
Repulsively-Compulsively.
Not intoxication-
Not even an addiction-with its serrated edge.
Its just  my re-connection  with my roots.
As I stayed away-
Strayed farther-
I would still be reliving the smell,
That would often linger on your fingertips-
When you chose to be close to me.
Its all etched in my mind-
A picture of the past-
Kept away callously-
In that ash-tray.
The smoke's the ghost that keeps you close.
An efficacy of the effigy-
That-though tainted- refuses to be sordid.
I smell it all about me now-
As I stir the ashes myself-
This time.
While the thoughts continue,
To haunt with its taunt.

Amour.

Somewhere, as the road forks,
Over to the shadow lands
And the blinding turns,
I still travel the cobbled stones-
Up turned- bare-feet.
My arrhythmic steps,
Crafting their own pace-
Marching on- with their own beat-
No matter the jagged edges
And the jaded footfalls.
There seems to be
No beginning,
No end-
Of this path that I traverse now.
Uncontrolled-unhurried foot steps,
Race along with time-
The clock stands- as my solitary witness of accord.
Amour.
Its my zeal.
A new found, newly created identity.
Amour-
My only home-the address unchanged.
It beckons out to me-
To strive harder-
For that patience in its perfection,
Previously amiss.
It draws me to it,
Like a moth to fire,
As I watch with sinful pleasure-
The embers burning my fingertips.
Scars- seem mysteriously meaningless-
Now,
I watch the marks appear in their distorted forms-
As they spread their spidery scatter plots-
All across my mind space.
My red eyes,
Search for the dark pools,
Of the familiar brown,
That guide me to my freedom.
Chained- bound- till then,
Willing and able,
Lost in this curious contradiction,
Of black and white.
Grey- colors my reasons now.
I seek no form-
No definition.
No concrete abstracts.
Metamorphosis- catalyzes my motion now.
My thought buds,
Nascent- in their matured bloom.
Evolution- tinged with yellow.
Amour in my red.
I feel it,
Coursing in through me,
Its pulsating drum beats of disharmony,
Suddenly my joy.
Regression- seems sweeter,
Correlation - still stronger yet.
Mutuality- a defence.
Amour.
My shelter.
Still.
Against all odds.