Tense Past Tense

There is silence
And there is tolerance,
There is patience
And a past that is tense;

Rattling, clanging,
Shaking and quaking,
Behind the doors
Shut forever and more;

The ghosts are flying,
Pulling and quivering,
For the taste of blood - screaming,
For the great release - teeming;

It can stay there
Where one pretends nonexistence,
It can stay there
Where one thinks far from the fence;

Things no one knows the truth of,
Things that will die with you,
Things that one wonders about,
Things one wishes were never true.

Everything I Wanted

Eyes clear with earthful strength,
Scarred face of battles lost and won,
Body of a man, new and ripe,
Hands that carry without effort, my type.

An arrogant rascal, smoking and drinking,
A beard and moustache as if its everything,
A caring fool that never forgets to give
Flowers everyday, a rose that still lives.

Brilliant at what he wants, playing to win,
Enjoying the game, making singing a sin
To my ears which are seduced by that voice
That reveberates in my soul, a calling for more.

No questions asked,
A past left behind,
Skeletons left buried,
Only present in mind.

Love unspoken,
Expressed in every way,
Arguments daily
To make up everyday.

No language in common,
As foreign as each can be,
But feelings coincide in total,
Everything I wanted is with me.

The Mistress

The usual and only question, why?
Was I not enough or is it about you?
I see you find her more seductive
But can't you see her killing you?

Her slenders fingers wrap around,
Curling wistfully and fading :
A hope to become real.
I see this in front of me.

My heart breaks, I reject all,
For I can't bear this sight of you and her!
How can I? She is like your mistress,
A quick fix, a small light in the dark.

A bittersweet alliance I wish you'd leave
Because I am starting to wonder
If it's I who is the mistress or she,
Since you met her long before me.

A Drooping Wallflower

They are just going and going. I wonder where. Homes? Offices? Simply a trip? I'd like to do that. Take the keys, open the car, sit inside, close the door, start the engine, get out on the road and just drive. I don't know to where and for how long I'll drive. But this is what I'll do -

Get on the highway and hope for a heavy crushing thunderstorm. Drive and keep driving straight and let the road take me where it will. Let down my hair and open my windows. Let the cold wind and rain rush in. Pull over at a cliffside or next to a ditch. Cut the engines and get out. Stand in the rain. And scream. Scream. And scream.

For everything that went wrong. For everything that is going wrong. For being a worthless friend. For being a bad granddaughter. For being a bad daughter. For being a hopeless and selfish person. For being unlikable and frigid. For not having any feelings or opinions that won't hurt others. For being me. But not for being here... More selfishness but this feels like I can be free and breathe. Even if I am sitting on the roadside alone at 9.12pm watching a full moon... The only source of my light other than headlights of the various vehicles rushing somewhere on the Sunday night before Holi.

The festival of colours. Happiness. I should be sharing a drink with my friends and enjoying some food. But I'm not. I'm here and brooding in hunger and darkness and wishing for rain from a hot, clear night. What a pessimist. This is the author of this blog. It has turned into my diary. Everything written in here is a reflection of my life, I admit. But how interesting it is, I don't know.

It's 9.16pm now. Just 4minutes have passed. I am contemplating taking a drink of water out of my bottle and walking on to the road. Contemplating why two men have stopped their bike near me. Hm, they left. Now I can be alone in my thoughts again.

This isn't much of a post, is it? I don't want to bore you. But then I'm one of the wallflowers who watch everyone and go nowhere. Right now, I just don't feel like watching anymore. I just feel empty.

To fill that is going to be a tough task. Somehow... Today I can't. No one can. My favourite songs are playing on my phone as I type this. Even that is not helping me. I just feel more and more drained. Alone yet not. Here but not. Where am I?

If I find that out, I'll let you know. For now let me see if fate has decided that I can find the Grim Reaper on this road. Adieu.

Tough Love

Movies, books and stories : out to deceive,
Somewhere the pages lie unwritten
Waiting for something, (love : give, receive)
In pages complete, yet unspoken.

Why do they make it look so easy?
Happily ever after is the desired :
But maybe what you get is sleazy,
Or maybe what you get is tired.

Now throwing open windows and doors,
Throwing out what once was close,
Embracing life which is thought easy
But once in love, it's difficult, not cheesy.

Seduced by Greyness

Eventually to burn a hole in my chest.

I see the grey fumes
Curling around you,
Smoke rings and what else?
I don't know. Never tried.

Never got curious enough.
Scared? Yes. Completely,
Enough to know I won't. Why?
Because I see marks of death.

A grey death seducing you,
That drug isn't a drug. How?
It's not the thing it seems to be.
How are you? High on a smoky cloud.

Somewhere I can't see,
Somewhere I can't reach,
And everyday I wish that
You won't go any further from me.

But I feel you drifting
High, floating, somewhere far.
Far from me.
So very far from me.

The Social Experiment

Too quiet and lost somewhere
In the stillness of the heart
And mind behaving like a lake
Dark and deep, not a ripple seen.

Eyes wide open and taking in
Everything that is seen and unseen
And making notes and inferences
Of what is and what might be.

A clear sky overhead is noted
And distracts from the social
Experiment that it is to fly
Like a bird to the stars.

Holding hands and stolen kisses
Are all seen and wondered about
Even as own experience thrills
And bewilders the experimenter.

Social norms of behaviour behave
Like scales to measure the height
Of one's perceived character and more
But the social experiment says no.

The experimenter will break the rules
And set new methods to follow on self
Just to see the reaction and the response
Of the good white sheep to the black.

Paris de mes rêves

Si je pourrais visiter une ville
Comme je penserai de Paradis,
Cette ville où je ferai ma vie,
Où je trouverai mon amour : Paris.

Si c'était possible,
Je m' y perdrais.
Si c'était possible,
J' y resterais perdue.

Car Paris avec ses lumières,
Paris avec ses histoires,
Paris avec son amour,
Paris qui est pour tous...

Dans Paris, je serai renaître
Comme une autre qui tu ne connais :
"Pourquoi pas?" Je te demande quand
"Pourquoi?" est que tu me demandes.

Parce que je peux.
Je peux et je dois.
Et un jour... Je verrai.

Confusions

The loner in you
Longs to be free,
The fear still haunts you -
That you are committed and seen,

The she-wolf in you hungers
And craves the security it brings,
She is the predator -
The thrill of kill rings,

Loud and quiet,
Hidden in the deep,
The mother in you frets
While the child in you sleeps,

Is this forever? you ask -
There is no answer
But the silent, unaccepted truth
That forever doesn't exist,

Is this now true? you question,
And an answer there is :
You accept the love you think you deserve,
If you make each other happy, it serves.

See with eyes unclouded

There is beauty everywhere,
Further than you can see,
Even if things don't seem right,
Your love is never lost to me.

I can find in you now,
The man you're to be,
Maybe you don't believe me,
But the reality is such I see.

Curiousity drives me forward
So I may quote some more,
But he listens to everyone
And speaks naught of self.