Last Night

Why do you think the clouds cried last night?

Why did the firefly cringe back in fright?

Why did all of it go dark at once?

Why did the raindrops refuse to dance?

 

Was it only me last night?

Or, were you there, too?

Did only I wish to curl up and die?

Or, did you too wish it ends soon?

 

It’s a new day now,

Bright sunbeams have erased the clouds.

But, it’s just an illusion-the sky so clear,

The clouds will cry again, their silent tears.

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It

What is it that whispers in the silence?

In the soundless night, what is it that I sense?

What is it that turns off the lights?

And makes daylight cringe back in fright?

What is it that makes musings dance-

Dance in glee’s melancholic trance?

Bizarre I know it is, perpetually,

But, what it really is, is still a query.

It comes and goes, amidst ‘yes’ and ‘no’s;

It builds and breaks; stagnates and flows;

Dark and light; and low and high-

I wish I could drown it in the ocean,

And bid it an everlasting good bye.

Not poetry

A thickening mist of melancholy,

Blurs my vision,

An army of deafening cacophony

Subdue my reasons,

I dwindle back as a canon ball hits me

Harder than ever, it defeats me,

The notes don’t sound right,

None of the scales fit,

Words don’t fall into place,

Someone’s bribing solace.

Someone’s trying to snatch away

All the colours of the day,

Someone’s fantasizing darkness,

He is welcoming mess,

Well, what can I do to him?

What can I say?

Sitting up tonight, I write not poems

But lament over this pitiful disarray.

To Lie

Difficult it is to find sense

In a labyrinthine jungle dense,

 

How hard it is to take back words spoken,

Harder still to mend promises broken,

 

Garrulous mouths are hard to quieten,

Imbecile brains are hard to enlighten,

 

Difficult it is to make morose souls smile,

Utterly impossible to make the dead rise,

 

Painstaking it is to make minutes pass

When life treats you like a futile mass,

 

Gruesome it is to live the infinite night,

Have a chat with the darkness and combat your fright,

 

It is formidably tough to apologize,

It is but perilously easy to lie.

 

Reflections on a Reflection

The afternoon sun burst into the room. Passing through the light pink curtains, it gave the entire room a dreamy appearance. The house was empty. The silence of the usually chirpy birds gave her a feeling of insecurity. Yet, shrugging off the dread, she removed the towel that wrapped her, and got dressed. She then applied a lotion delicately over her entire body, gliding her fingers smoothly over the moist of her skin.

 

She walked up to the mirror.

 

There she stood, angelically beautiful, devoutly pious yet, blasphemously sinful. Her graceful frame seemed to tell a thousand stories, a little at a time. The roundness of her physique, the child-like innocence radiating from her face and yet, a melancholic tinge in her eyes, made her all the more attractive.

 

She looked her reflection into the eye. All at once, raced a million reflections through her mind-of the past, the present and… let it be. She looked at herself, rather, watched herself. She’d watched herself since a long while, from her very childhood. She’d watched herself grow; grow from a little kid to what they call a lady, a full grown lady. She had watched her own self transcend through the many seasons-the flowers of spring, the snow of winter, the sweat of summer and the bliss of monsoon. She’d watched the many tears, the many pains she had endured. All of them were like messengers from some far away land. They had messages to convey, lessons to teach.  

 

She smiled. The reflection smiled back. But, would it last? The smile? Maybe yes, if she tried. And she did. She did try. Holding on to the smile, she raced her thoughts back to all the lovely presents offered to her, the presents that made her being worth it-the rainbows whose colours were difficult to distinguish but the fact that they were there, gave her solace; the tinkling of anklets as her mother rushed from one corner of the house to another; the sound of her father turning the pages of the newspaper and finally the contented feeling when he’d place it on the table, for now he’d come to her; her younger brother’s monotonous tantrums over the same little things. And just how there’s no end to counting the stars, there seemed no end to counting her blessings. The reflection seemed to be able to fathom that, and naturally, the smile broadened.

 

She looked at her lips and remembered him, the dreams she dreamt about him. She remembered her heart racing every time he would come closer. How desperately she hoped he would be hers, but alas! Yet, she had never let her dreams be shattered. There’s nothing wrong in dreaming, is there? Her reflection grinned, like a child, at being offered her favourite chocolate.

 

How blissful it all is! How marvelous! She carried within her a wonder, a fairytale- some of it revealed, some held back. She wasn’t at all times what she appeared to be. Not always that epitome of strength she was believed to be, was strong enough. Neither were the smiles always smiling. Like a rollercoaster, she had hurled herself to different directions, high and low, yet at all times, like the rollercoaster ride, it was joyous. She smiled all the more.

 

But.

 

But, bless the Devil that lurked in the shadows. Well, can he tolerate smiles? No. Never.

 

Like the harrowing thunder that disrupts the tranquility of the night, there barged into her thoughts the echoes of his voice – the doctor’s voice, kind yet ruthless, “Actually, it’s too late, maybe a year more.”

 

And, probably that explained the silence of the usually chirpy birds.

 

Echoes from a Labyrinth

This is mine
And that is yours.
She is his
And he is hers.
All the smiles
And all the tears,
Are now in the grips
Of an evil curse.

——————

It’s your fault
So the blow is yours.
Your own dilemma
You got to cure.
You got to pick yourself up
Each time that you fall.
That friend, and this foe
Were never yours at all.

——————

Strains of wrath,
Eyes of lust;
Love snatched,
And shattered trust-
The fools you’ll meet
While passing this labyrinth.
But, you better move on.
For this ain’t what you were born for.

The First Time

Angels at my doorstep
And music in my heart;
A sweet gaily smile
A feeling purely divine;

Forsaking the pains,
Shaking off the hurt;
Singing a joyous tune,
I’m off to start anew.

Now that the dried leaves
Have finally fallen to the ground,
I’ll brighten up the tree,
I won’t fear the eerie clouds above.
Won’t fear what’s written in the stars.
For once, I’ll make the ‘first time’ last.