ಬಂಡಾಯ ಮರೆತಿದ್ದೇನೆ.

ಈಗೀಗ ನಾನು

ಹೊಟ್ಟೆ ತುಂಬಾ 

ನಗುವುದಿಲ್ಲ.

ಬಿಕ್ಕಿ-ಬಿಕ್ಕಿ ಅಳುವುದಿಲ್ಲ.

ಬಂದುದನ್ನು ಎದುರಿಸಿ

ಎದೆ ಸೆಟೆದು,

ಮುನ್ನುಗ್ಗೋದಿಲ್ಲ.

ನಿಟ್ಟುಸಿರು ಬಿಟ್ಟು,

ಇರಿಯಲು ಹೋಗುತ್ತಿದ್ದ,

ಮನದ ಹೋರಿಯ 

ಹೆಡೆಮುರಿಗಟ್ಟಿ,

ಕುರ್ಚಿ ಮೇಲೆ 

ಕೂರಿಸಿ..

ಕಾಯಿಸಿ ಕೆರಳಿಸಿ,

ಸಿಡಿದು ಸೆನೆಸಾಡುವ,

ಅಂತರಾಳದ ಕಿಡಿಗೆ,

ನೀರೆರೆಚಿ, ಹೊಗೆ ಎಬ್ಬಿಸಿ,

ಕೆಮ್ಮತ್ತಾ..

ಟೀವಿ ನೋಡುತ್ತಾ,

ಫಳಾರು ತಿನ್ನುತ್ತಾ.

ಬೇಕಾಗದ, ಬೇಡಾಗಾದ,

ವಿದ್ಯಮಾನಳ,

ಅಪಹಾಸ್ಯ ಮಾಡುತ್ತ..

ಚಿಲ್ಲರೆ ಜೋಕುಗಳಿಂದ,

ಪ್ರಭಾವಿತನಾಗಿ,

ಅನ್ಯರಿಗೆ ಉಪದೇಶ

ಕೊಡುತ್ತ..

ಮಂಕು ತಲೆಯ,

ಮೊಂಡು ವಿಚಾರಗಳಿಗೆ,

ಸಾಣೆಕಲ್ಲು ತೋರಿಸದೆ,

ಕೊರಗುತ್ತಾ‌..

ಕೂತಿದ್ದೇನೆ.

ಈಗೀಗ ನಾನು

ಬಂಡಾಯ ಮರೆತಿದ್ದೇನೆ.

ಕೆಮ್ಮು

ಅದು ತೆಂಕಣ ಗಾಳಿಯ 

ಅಮಲೋ.
ಒಡಲ ಮಂಥನದ
ಕಿಡಿಯೋ.

ತಲೆ ಏರಿ, ಎದೆ ಮೀಟಿ,
ತೊಡೆ ತಟ್ಟಿ
ಅಬ್ಬರಿಸಿದಾಗ,
ಮಾತು ಮರೆತಿದ್ದ
ಮಂದಿ ಎಲ್ಲಾ
ಕೆಮ್ಮಿದರು.

ಕೆಮ್ಮು. ಕೆಮ್ಮು.
ಭಯಂಕರ ಕೆಮ್ಮು.

ನಿಂತರೂ ಕೆಮ್ಮು.
ಕುಂತರೂ ಕೆಮ್ಮು.
ಎದ್ದರೂ ಕೆಮ್ಮು.
ಬಿದ್ದರು ಕೆಮ್ಮು.

ನಗುವನ್ನು ನುಂಗಿ
ಕ್ಯಾಕರಿಸಿದ ಕೆಮ್ಮು.
ಕರುಳ ಜಗ್ಗಿ
ಅಳಿಸಿದ ಕೆಮ್ಮು.

ಮಲಗಿದವರನ್ನು
ಗಾರಿ ಉಗುಳಲು
ಎಬ್ಬಿಸಿದ ಕೆಮ್ಮು.

ಎದ್ದವರನ್ನು ಕುಗ್ಗಿ
ನಡೆಸಲು,
ತಲೆ ತಟ್ಟಿದ ಕೆಮ್ಮು.

ಬೀಗಿ, ಬೈದು,
ಗೊಳೋ ಎಂದು ಅತ್ತು.
ತಲೆ ತಿಪ್ಪೆ
ಮಾಡಿಕೊಂಡರು
ಹಲವರು.

ಬಿತ್ತಿ, ಎತ್ತಿ,
ಕೆರೆ-ಕಟ್ಟೆ ಕಟ್ಟಿ,
ತಮ್ಮ ಕೆಮ್ಮಿಗೆ
ರಾಗ ಕೊಟ್ಟು,
ಕವಿಯಾದರು ಕೆಲವರು.

ಹೇಗೆ ಕೆಮ್ಮಬೇಕೆಂದು
ಹೇಳಿ ಕೊಡಲು ತಿಳಿದ
ಬಲ್ಲವರು
ಸ್ವಾಮಿಗಳಾದರು.

ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಜೋರಾಗಿ ಕೆಮ್ಮಿ,

ಆಶ್ವಾಸನೆ ನೀಡಿ.

ಕೆಮ್ಮನ್ನೇ ಬಂಡವಾಳ

ಮಾಡಿಕೊಂಡ‌ ಧುರೀಣರು‌  

ಸರ್ಕಾರ ಕಟ್ಟಿದರು..

ಕೆಮ್ಮನ್ನು 

ಹತೋಟಿಯಲ್ಲಿಡಲು.

ಕಾಳಿ ದೇವಿಗೆ ಮೂಗುದಾನ

ಎದ್ದು ಅಂಗಳ 

ತೊಳೆಯಲಿಲ್ಲ.

ತೆಲೆ ತೊಳೆದು ಜುಟ್ಟು 

ಕಟ್ಟಲಿಲ್ಲ.

ಬೊಟ್ಟು ಇಡಲಿಲ್ಲ. 

ಹೂ ಮುಡಲಿಲ್ಲ.

ಒಲೆಗೂ ಕೂಡ ರಜೆ.

ಇವತ್ತು ಅನ್ನ ಬೇಯೊದಿಲ್ಲ.

ಕಣ್ಣಲ್ಲಿ ಸೇಡಿಲ್ಲ.

ನೋವಿಲ್ಲ, ನಗುವಿಲ್ಲ.

ಸಾವಿರಾರು ವರ್ಷಗಳ

ದಬ್ಬಾಳಿಕೆಯ ಜ್ಞಾನವಿಲ್ಲ.

ನೆಪವೂ ಇಲ್ಲ.

ಆದರೂ

ಎದೆಯಲೊಂದು

ಅಳುಕಿದೆ.

ಮನದಲ್ಲಿ ಕವಿದ ಶೂನ್ಯ

ಜಗತ್ತನ್ನೇ ತಿನ್ನೆಂದು,

ನಗುತಿದೆ..

ಉಟ್ಟ ಸೀರೆಯ

ದಾಸ್ಯವ ತೊರೆದು,

ಸರಸರನೆ ಓಣಿಯಲ್ಲಿ

ಬೆತ್ತಲೆ ಓಡಿದಳು.

ಊರಿನ ಗುಡಿ

ಅದುರಿತು.

ಕೆರೆ ಒಡೆಯಿತು.

ಭೂಮಿ ಕಂಪಿಸಿತು.

ಸೂರ್ಯನಿಗೂ ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ

ಚಳಿ ತಾಗಿತು.

ಇಣುಕಿ ನೋಡಿದವರು,

ಕುರುಡರಾದರು.

ನಿಂತು‌ ನಕ್ಕ ಕೆಲ ಲೌಡಿಗಳು‌ 

ಸುಟ್ಟು ಬೂದಿಯಾದರು.

ಎವ್ವಾ! ಮುಕಳಿಗೆ

ನೀರೆಂದು ಮಗು

ಕರೆಯಿತು.

ವಾಸ್ತವ ರಪ್ಪನೆ

ಅಪ್ಪಳಿಸಲು,

ಒಲೆ ಹೊತ್ತಿತು.

ಊರು ಉಳಿಯಿತು.

ಆಗಿದ್ದೇನೆಂದು,

ದೇವ-ದಾನವರಿಗೆ ಮಾತ್ರ

ಗೊತ್ತಿತ್ತು.

ಪುರುಷ ಪ್ರಭುತ್ವವನ್ನು

ಉಳಿಸಲು,

ಮಗುವಾಗಿ ಬಂದಿದ್ದ

ಶಿವನಿಗೆ, ಅವರು  

ಕೈ ಮುಗಿದರು.

Embargo

I try to forget you.

But I fail.

I drink all day to

Forget you.

But I fail.

I read, I write.

I sleep, I wake.

I choke on my

Helplessness.

Talk to the ceiling,

Fight with pillows.

I bask, I crack,

I whack and I 

Really, really, try

To make you go

Away.

But I fail.

You creep in 

Like a snake to

Scare me again.

You sneak in

Like rustle of

Leaves in the

Dead of night to

Haunt me again.

It's like my

Head is on fire.

Skin has turned

Dry.

Hair is a mess

With a strong urge

For an itch.

And I have

Run out of water

To take a decent

Bath.

Upon that I've 

Decided to hate 

The rains too.

Also, I've been

Avoiding

The shadow of

The moon but

He has followed

Me everywhere.

I've tried to kill

You in my stories.

Tried to burn our

Memories.

But I've badly 

Failed.

And like fumes of

Hot chai that

Elevates desires.

You creep in to

Demand a 

Reconsideration.

And I ask myself

Again.

If I want to forget

You for sure.

Do I really want

To let you go?

The answer slightly

Tilts towards a no.

Seems like I've

Grown a fondness

To this embargo.

This fondness take

Sides of a fight 

Inside my head.

To be or not be.

To be you sometimes

And to be me the other.

To stay put or

Just move on.

Maybe it's fun.

Maybe I'm not

Lonely that way.

Social media

Zhakm ke bazaar mein

Naaptol ke dard 

Becha ja raha hai.

Gaye the hum bhi,

Kamaye huye,

Kuch ghaav leke.

Kacche aam ki

Keemat shayad koi

Nai karta waha.

Shayad, achaar

Dalna padega. 

Conquest

Took a train. Then a bus. 48 hours after, found myself in Dharmashala. Five hours of trek, then on a mountain top.

The thirty rupees tea. Bread omlet, hundred each. Watched the sunset. Pegged tent and slept early.

Middle of the night, when mountains were asleep and the moon was awake. Peeped out of the tent and shivered to the cold.

The valley looked stunning. So did my insignificance. Maybe that's how it is, when you conquer yourself.

The child in me

The child in me 

Wants to go to

My grandpa's place

To be lost in his

Stories again.

Climb the trees

To eat unripe

Mangoes and

Eat all the roasted 

Cashews without

Sharing with anyone.

The child in me

Wants play with

Fire. Conjure, 

The courage to

Leap in to 

Experience things. 

Learn, unlearn

And re-learn.

Just like how

One has to be

Persistent to craft

A kite and put

It in flight.

The child in me

Wants to imitate

Shaktiman and

Also understand 

Gangadhar.

Believe I can fly.

Still be grounded.

Ignore the wounds

On my knee and

Run again like

There's no tomorrow.

The child in me

Just wants to talk

To the adult me,

To hold hands and

Shed masks.

Fill courage and

Say it's alright.

Climb mountains,

Sail across seas to

Show how to belong,

And where to 

Belong.

Anjaan

Woh kaun hai jo

Jo sapnon mein aake

Hakeekat mein

Gayab ho jate hai.

Aine mein dikh kar,

Parichayi chod jate hai. 

Woh kaun hai jo

Dimag pe sawar

Dil pe nishan

Chod jate hai.

Khule bazaar mein

Khwaab dikha ke,

Baad mein marichika 

Ho jate hai. 

Kash woh tum hote.

Ya khud hum.

Lekin ye koi

Aur hai. 

Anjaan toh hai

Jaroor..

Lekin pata nahi

Kyu.

Jaan pehechan 

Se bhi lagte hai. 

Listen

Listen to the breeze

As it passes by.

The rustle of the leaves,

The calm it assures.

Listen to the thoughts

It invokes, as it

Touches your insides.

..

Listen to the river

As it cuts through rocks.

The pebbles it 

Brushes past.

The persistence it

Inspires.

Listen to the tones

It brings you back,

As it flows soaking

Your heart.

..

Listen to the snow

As it settles on the soil.

The white that covers,

The cold that spreads.

Listen to the fire 

It can light. 

In the corner of

Your mind.

The summer that's

Still alive.

. 

Poles Apart

Of the red

And the blue.

We're the 

Uncommon dark.

Of the music 

And the noise.

We're silences

Aloud.

Of a dream

And the dread,

A realisation that

Fled the night.

And of the hope 

And despair,

A love that didn't

Last long.

Like the sea  

And the sky.

We could meet

Only as a mirage.

In reality we're,

An universe 

Apart. 

Oblivion

Life slips from

The the clutches

Of my fingers like

The loose grains 

Of sand.

Passes through

The the gap in 

My eyes like a

Forgettable perspective.

Pages turn. 

The clocks run.

Night eats the day

And light turns up.

Time has fled.

Story is gone and

Before I could remember,

Oblivion said Hi..

Void to Infinite

They say 

You kill with

Your eyes.

And I have

Already died

Twice. 

The paths

You derail with

Carve of your

Smile.

I've already

Lost myself

Thrice. 

For a glance

Of your face,

The wars 

They've waged.

I've been

Martyred a 

Few times. 

You take them

Places they 

Say.

Now, I too have  

Seen the infinite.

By first hitting 

The void.

Scream

I feel like I should

Just scream.

Rip this trails of

Stress and spread

Myself on the floor.

I just want to 

Scream till

My brain bursts.

Body gives up and

I lay shattered 

Devoid of any

Strand of greed.

The dust of rust on

My tenacit thoughts.

A layer of extra

Skin to pretend as

My will rots.

This body is a 

Prison that wants

To be freed.

From the roof of

My head 

For me to scream.

By any chance,

Can I score some

Weed?

Scripting Fantasies

Earth seems 

Crowded.

Reality feels limited.

Let's go away to

Live in reveries.

Let's find a way to

Sculpt our fantasies.

A ride of a unicorn,

To build castles of

Candy in the air.

We'll make wine

Out of starlight and

Swing in space.

In the restaurant

At the end of galaxy.

Over plate of 

Girmit-mirchi,

I will propose you 

A toast with chai.

A necklace of

Red-giants and

A tiara of moons

On your head.

I'll address you

As queen to be

Your worthy king.

Lazy Moments

We wrap ourselves

In each other.

The blue and the red

Intertwined.

We see our silence

Pass by.  

We wrap ourselves

In each other.

Nothingness and

Infinity holding hands,

We listen to an

Epoch that runs by.

We wrap ourselves

In each other.

Our fondness dictates

The rage of nature.

The winter and 

The summer are

Dialects of our 

Naked hearts.

We wrap ourselves

In each other.

The happiness and 

The sadness have 

Conspired to

Vacantly witness,

The making of

Our life.

Blues

This simmering 

Desire for

Abandoned places.

Irresistible longing 

For fading traces.

Fantasy that 

Grows for the

Falling moons.

The pull I feel 

Towards the 

Dying stars.

My heart must 

Have been cast in

A volcano that 

Refused to 

Douse itself. 

This greed to 

Live even when 

I'm dead.

Compulsion to

Make the blues

My friends.

Maybe that's why,

I am swimming in

The smoke of

The bridges I've

Burnt.

Void

There's this space.

Un-fulfilled.

Un-attained.

Soaked and left

To dry.

This space,

A blinding black.

Shattering white.

An anti gravity fall.

From here,

There's no 

Coming back.

It's a remains

Of unburnt skin.

Ruins of a sea

That's dead.

Of that hope

Only despair is

Left.

I wait here like

It's a to be

Done away scar.

A to be won war.

But you never

Look back.

And

Un-fulfilled,

Un-attained,

This space has

Become,

An unfathomable

Void.

Head and Hunger

We plough, we sow.

Against the rains

We gamble to grow.

For a roti and 

Some rice.

Firewood and

Cooking oil..

My mother toils

Against her life

To fix a dinner.

Law of conservation

Of energy doesn't

Apply in our kitchen. 

If the light were that

Discernible.

At first instance,

I would have tried to

Make a container,

To illuminate my 

Dilapidated hut.

Because when I

See a posh building

From here,

The light seemed 

Have always been 

Relative.

And wonder. 

Always have been

Wondering about Newton

And his apple.

If it would have

Fallen on me.

Maybe I would have 

Eaten it readily.

The act of head,

And hunger, you see,

Are third law of

Motion otherwise.

Maybe somewhere

There's a fission

Reaction that's

Multiplying pulses.

Some missiles with

Nuclear warheads,

In one stroke, can

Feed all the poor.

Maybe then,

Between the head

And the stomach,

Science can win 

The race. 

Khayal

Woh aaye,

Hame le jaye.

Phir se ek aur 

Khwaab dikha ke,

Chand pe hame

Kaid kar de.

Sitaro ke hawa

Ka shab 

Unke hathon se 

Pilaye aur unke 

Pyar ka izahar kare.

Aur hum yun hi

Pigal kar,

Aasman se 

Barish sa barsaye.

Haye,

Ye mehenge 

Mehenge khwahishe..

Unki yadon mein

Doob jaane ki aadatein.

Kya kare..

Kya kare..

Iss taraf hai tanhai

Ki khayi. Uss taraf,

Nachti hui, meri

Bigade kalam ki

Rang bhi rangi shahi. 

Hamare toote

Kashti ki hakeekat

Ka pata hai hume..

Phir bhi..

Phir bhi..

Dil behalane ke liye.

Khayal accha hai

Ghalib.

Cleansing

Tragidies are 

Infected with

Laugh and

They've become

Nitrous oxide.

Fantasies are

Mixed with vile

Of politics.

Anesthetics are

Now obsolete.

Sad stories,

Have cold endings.

They die easily

These days.

Amputations are

Done by building

Narratives.

Hip-hop has

Caught a cold.

Establishment,

Has whored

Rappers to tune

Their agenda.

Ideas pop-up

Strings attached.

Even psychedelics 

Are in fetters.

Rock music is

In clinical trials

To treat ethnicity.

When I was Young

Once, 

When I was young.

I would summon sunsets

And tame stars to adorn

My little sister's room.

Colors up my sleeve.

I believed in a life,

That's etched in crayons.

Once, 

When I was young.

I would make boats 

With papers to 

Chase the rain.

Dreams could fit in

Chocolate wrappers.

Expectations in

Glittery marbles.

Nights were for

Good goody sleep.

Evenings for the

Cool breeze.

Morning tea to

Shake the mind

Freeze.

A free desire within 

That would aways 

Tease.

Everything wasn't

Planned and neat.

Complaining, 

We didn't sag like 

Dead meat. 

Roads were great,

Trees were free. 

Looking at us

Even birds did glee.

Once, 

When I was young.

Moon followed me

Wherever I would go.

Grandpa lived in the

Sky, as mom claimed.

Venus was just

A good friend.

Peeing wasn't shamed.

And dreams weren't 

Confined in names.

Haste

Clocks chase 

The moments that 

Could have paused

For a while. 

Fate engulfs the

Horizons that

Questions,

Future visibility.

Sun doused the

Night that had 

Offered us a 

Possibility.

You could've 

Stayed for another 

Hour.

What was the 

Hurry?

A minute could

Have savored

Another second.

A day,

Another year.

Time wasn't the

Enemy.

Neither was fate.

I refused to look

You in the eye,

When you reluctantly

Said goodbye.

Dead Poet

Dear poet. I read your obituary in the newspaper. Didn't know how to interpret it. 

Are you really gone or is it one of the instances that you just can't write? 

Are you choking on your words or you have done away with yourself from over a fan? 

I hope it is just a series of miscarriages in your head. I would like to believe that you are in your cave, taking time to come up with something new as you always do. 

I didn't know how to comprehend the headline, "Death of a poet". As it seemed like a beautiful metaphor you would use.

Hope everything is fine. And you're working on your next piece.

I lust you

Love is a close

Relative of lust.

That judges it,

For wearing a 

Revealing dress.

While it wanders

Naked in disguise,

In the minds that 

Preach pretense.

What's wrong

In the intimacy

That grows by 

Fire of skins,

Friction of hips..

And the stroke of

Calling that's evoked

By the wake of 

Genitals? 

Purest of longing,

Should it linger

Only in heart?

Is that such an

Obvious stereotype?

Against the drapes 

That limit the

Depths of desire.

This is a poem is

A nudist's satire.

Tainting Apathy

The papers want

To be tainted.

They pray for 

Redemption from

The blinding of

The blank.

The pen is a 

Messenger of 

The god.

Rescuing the 

Damned.

Poetry is a 

Warrior knight. 

Cosmic Job

There's a strange 

Feeling that's 

Simmering on the

Tips of my fingers.

An unusual quiver

Passing beneath

My feet. 

I feel a layer of skin

Upon me and 

Someone is trying to

Break it free.

Looks like something

Is in wake. 

My pen wants me

To go on a ride.

A piece of paper

Must be praying

For its redemption

From the blank.

Cosmic forces may

Have chosen me

For the job..

To balance the

Equilibrium..

Let me write a

Line. 

Folklore

When this is 

All over.

On a sun-kissed

Month of May.

I'll meet you again.

At a road that

Outgrows all the

Bends,

I'll hold your hand

And walk you to

A place, where

I grew as a child.

Where time is

On its knees. 

Where mangoes 

Still grow in trees.

There's a house,

My Grandpa lives 

Still.

He might not be

Expecting me.

But he'll not be 

Surprised to 

See you as well.

Maybe he'll

Ask grandma to

Make you feel at home.

Cook you her

Signature cashew dish.

And tell you an

Old story that

I've forgotten.

I'm sure she'll 

Tell you about how

Her hens lay egg.

The grafts on 

Guava plants and

The thickness of

Milk her buffaloes

Offer.

She'll insist on

Giving you oil bath. 

And as she applies 

Oil to your hair. 

I'll steal your shy-gaze

To confide our love,

To that moment.

It'll be safe there.

Maybe years later,

Verge of our story

Will be heard as

Folklore.

Unveiled letters

Tiptoeing across

A warm beach.

Gazing vacantly

Into the distance.

I envy the reflection

Of the moon,

On the brink of 

My fluid will.

I think of the 

Sequence of 

Accidents that

Brought me here. 

A twinge of

Sadness.

A surge of madness.

Butterflies in stomach

That emanates from

Series of flashbacks.

This urge to squeeze

Your cuteness.

The way my feelings

Squeal upon hearing

Your footsteps.

This desire to poke

My head in the clouds.

Vain of trying to

Hold time as it passes.

I wonder if the flood

Of this reverie

Ever ends.

The array of this

Longing ever bends.

I wonder if these

Unsent letters ever

Grow wings to land

In your realm to

Come back again..

Un-opened. Un-read.

Guilty Pleasure

The wars my

Thoughts wage.

The revolts these

Emotions stage.

Why is this

Mental carnage

So imminent.

Is there no end to

This bloodshed?

This body is a

Cauldron of craving.

Mind, full of 

Thrust moralities.

Between the

Desires that poke

And the restraints

I exercise..

Everything collides

With one another..

Inevitably a conflict 

Is bound to arise..

So I hold my dagger 

Full of desire,

In a fistful of my

Hand..

And my guilt 

Awaits outside

The bathroom..

To slay me for

Failing another

Time.

Here and Now

The road with

Two curves of 

Bends.

Has no beginning

Or an end.

The birds think

It goes up and

Down.

But the passing

Packet of air,

Takes it from

Anywhere to 

Everywhere.

And the dry leaves 

Assume it goes

Nowhere.

The traveler 

Doesn't stand

And stare.

He's only concerned

About the left  

And the right.

Everyone,

Who presumes

That it goes

Somewhere,

Is in a prison.

Only the road is

Truly free.

Letting others go,

It stays there.

With no beginnings

And ends.

Only the road has

Traveled..

The destination

Is then and there.

New Year

Push your mind to

Fight that noise.

Push your boundaries,

You need to take 

A stand.

The restraints that

Have silenced your will..

Need to break away.

The reservations that

Hold your thoughts..

Be brushed away.

Let the blunt edges

Be sharpened by the

Friction as you try.

The hollowness,

Evaporate to allow 

Something of meaning,

As you sour high.

Let the decay see

A decent wash.

The confines erode,

To open a possibility

For new life.

This is just another

Day of another year.

Welcome it with

Open arms..

Give your legs

A chance.

Give your eyes

A new horizon.

Life is an act

Of moving on.

There's a lot to 

Explore around.

Women

We glorified 

Womanhood

To restrict you 

To brooms.

Celebrated 

Motherhood 

To confine you

To rooms.

We pitied you to

Hold hostage in

Soft-emotions.

Stereotyped to

Force you in 

Clothes of desire.

Ladies first we

Say,

Unequal salaries

We pay.

To force you to 

Cut onions.

Men shouldn't cry,

We declare.

You may wage wars.

Rule the world.

Mother a prophet or

Slave a demon.

Still, you gotta

Take our blame

And make our

Homes.

You're better than us.

Even stronger.

But consolation

Prizes is all you'll get..

Maybe another

Child to pet.

A saree, 

Some jwellery or

One more poem 

Like this one to

Exemplify your

Compliant behavior.

Shower Some Starlight

Shores of the sea

Are cleansed by

The touch of your

Feet.

Winds seek 

Redemption

At the behest of

Your cheeks.

The moon 

Has been jealous,

For over an 

Epoch.

The sun has been

Chasing the dark

To give meaning 

To his fondness. 

Feed this celestial 

Vacuum.

Universe has been 

Lonely all along.

I've wished for a

A glance of you a

Million times..

Pass me through 

One of your 

Thoughts and shower 

Some starlight. 

Olympic Dream

I open my zip

To take a piss.

Simultaneously,

I spit.

The spit and 

The urine collide.

My Olympic

Dream is still 

Alive. 

Song of unity

No, 

We're not afraid

Of the tainted light.

Or distracted by

The lure of

Promising nights.

This is a beginning

Of our unity,

You can't stop.

We're gonna 

Paint our fate in

White tonight.

We've buried

Our vices beneath

A rocky surface.

Cast our hearts

In a smelting furnace.

We can't be dodged

By the vanities

Of the heavens.

Or the scared by

The cold fetters

Of hell.

The rage in eyes

Is awake.

The song of the

Black flags will

Be sung to

Sooth the wounds

Of separation.

From the cold

Embers a revolution 

Will arise and

That'll be you

Elitists' demise.

Beware of the 

Thorns, you wretches.

We feed blood to

The roses,

You preach 

Discrimination.

Marriage

This shade of loneliness 

Hits you in your late 20s.

Feeds on insecurities to

Make your life compliant.

You accommodate yourself

In family trips.

Suddenly try to socialize

With strangers with

Sips of cheap drinks.

You form political opinions,

To fit in a group.

Watch cricket to blend in.

The mainstream is an

Inevitable end it seems.

All the girls you could have 

Had in college.

The moves you didn't make.

The words you couldn't say.

A feminine touch can

Only redeem you,

But your mirror 

Rejects you again.

Your only friend 

Succumbs to a girl.

And now you're really

Fucked in the head.

The loneliness sacrifices 

You to a societal mess.

And you decide to

Get married for sex.

Irrelevance

There's someone 

In the Dark..

I see,

But I don't realise.

There's someone in

The heart.

I can feel.

Can't hold on.

Time always slips

From the cusp of

Fingers.

Moments do become

Incomplete

Memoirs.

There's someone in

The dark,

I don't realise.

He or me 

Doesn't matter.

He does slip from

My fingers.

I do from time. 

Irrelevance is

Something of an

Ultimate demise. 

Dear Loneliness

You cut wings of

Doves and force 

Them to fly.

Pluck dandelions,

Only to throw them

In fire.

Give hopes to

Ailing hearts

Then feed apathy,

To cripple their life.

The prayers that

Taste you turn

Into dirge.

The things you

Touch are declared

As spoils of war.

So ingrained are

Sins in you,

That even after 

Washing your soul 

In the volcano..

The taints still glow,

The guilt still grows.

Leaving you to

Wonder if that's 

Really a curse.

Your heart hangs

In the air now, 

With no one to hold.

Dear loneliness,

I will break from

Your shackles.

I shall not live in

Vain tonight.

Dear Comrade

With the stroke of

Of your tongue,

The words you weave.

The intoxication,

Your eyes spew..

Curl of your lip,

That slays hearts

And subjugates

Minds.

Communists,

Atheists, priests.

Philosophers and

And other fanatics.

How many 

Revolutions,

You must have 

Killed. 

With just a curve

Of your smile.

Are you,

By any chance.

The incumbent

Government? 

If I'd never met you

If I'd never met you,

The food would have

Tasted the same.

The rains would have

Poured the same.

My desires wouldn't

Have taken a leap and

I'd have remained unsung,

Even in my dreams.

..

If I'd never met you,

The winds would have

Blown the same.

The sun would have

Still come up in the west.

My mind would have

Brooded on the idea of

A perfect past.

There would have been

A cacti infestation,

I'd have grown a fondness to.

..

If I'd never met you,

My heart would have

Pumped the same.

My blood would have

Rushed the same.

My room would still

Be dark. Walls be blank.

I'd have romanticized

Pain to write sad stories.

Where I'd have died

Again and again.

..

If I'd never met you.

My words wouldn't

Have flown.

Verses wouldn't have

Rhymed.

With a block in in the

Mind intact.

My throat still would

Have been a graveyard of

The songs I never sang.

..

Greenhouse

Sky is crying fire.
Winds are hurling
A storm.
Earth quivers in
Boggled awe.
As a revolution
Comes alive.

Icecaps are afraid
Of a wave of heat.
Mountains shiver out
In a cold that beats.
Seas too slosh
In scare,
To the revolution
That's in wake.

Forests have lost
Their cool.
Animals are as
Confused.
Trees do anticipate
Something bad.
The revolution in
Wake, is not
Welcome at all.

Demons are
Running for life.
Angels are confused
Taking sides.
Gods sit coughing,
For being pleased
With lit-up cigars.

And the man lauds
The smoke,
He is breathing.
Lits another cigarette,
To celebrate the next 

Revolution he wanna

Bring to life.

The Hunter

Dusk covers the sky.

Dust settles on the

Leaves of trees,

That are tired.

Claws clenched,

Unwavering sight.

A tiger sits in the shade.

In a calm composure,

The hunter is now live.

Rage simmering.

Hunger in the eyes.

Waiting is the only plan.

His patience is dangerous

Than the fangs.

Flies in the milieu

Are fried by his sigh.

Birds are stupefied,

Anticipating a storm.

Only wolves howl

In distance.

They understand

The gravity of the times.

Other biggies don't dare 

To breath a sound.

Mistakes can cost

Your life.

Even demons seek

A hiding.

No one wants to be 

A petty feast tonight.

And that's how hunger

Of a beast smells.

No-one will be spared.

Life is skeptical

Tonight. 

This too shall pass

Sharp edges 

Will fade away,

Against the grate

Of passing time.

Shades will fill 

The divide,

Between the 

Black and white.

The right and 

The wrong

Will be occupied

With IFs and WHYs. 

The splits in the

Skin will be 

Braced by touch

Of a hand. 

The distance in 

Your eyes will be

Held with an 

Incessant desire.

Your sadness is

Meaningless.

So is your happy

Face.

What's done will

Be undone..

Wounds will

Soon be dead.

Pain or pleasure.

Sharp edges will

Fall and this too

Shall pass.

Loop

I got drunk at night. 

Smirked at the moon,

Challenged the night sky,

For some more gloom.

Of many other things,

Defaced walls and

Stoned the mirrors

In my room.

Torn my diaries,

To amend the past.

Puked enough to

Pass to at last.

Then you invaded

My dreams.

To kill me in my 

Mind.

And I woke up

With a sigh,

Feeling my thing

Between the thighs.

This story of 

You and I, is a loop,

Of forgetting and

Remembering.

 I manage to escape

 You in the night.

 Only to be caught

 At the dawn.

Time is slow in Dharwad

Roosters are lazy.

Mornings are not

So early.

Time is slow in

Dharwad.

No one here is in a

Real hurry.

You wake up,

Go in search of

Breakfast with friends.

Hours simply pass,

As sipping chai 

Takes a lot of laugh.

So comes lunchtime,

Roti, curd, rice and

Sambar.

Food here is a wormhole.

Noon-nap that follows

Is a blackhole. 

You just belch, yawn.

And mysteriously you

Slip to the evening.

Sleepy eyes as the

Light fades,

Can anything get slower

Than this sombre?

Gurmit-mirchi-chai

And some more

Laughter..and 

You're back to bed

After a fat dinner.

Dreams bore fruits

Only in sleep.

Fed-up,

The monk who couldn't

Grow beard, 

Decided to leave..

Saying..

Even leaves take

Their own time 

To fall..

Time does really pass

Slowly in Dharwad. 

Uncle-hood

The number of 

T-shirts has been

Reduced to two.

The jeans in my closet,

Are disappearing too.

The themed vests 

Are being replaced,

By white banyans.

Fit full-sleeved shirts.

And well stitched,

Formal pants have

Invaded my space.

Clean shaved face,

Thick mustache.

A tuft of grey hair,

Left un-attained..

Beer belly is a

New reality.

Self-acceptance is

Now a philosophy.

Age stole my 

Ripped jeans,

Adulthood is gone..

A kid in the street

To call me uncle..

I've become

My father.

Come Again

The garden of 

Our muse,

Has lost its charm.

Come again,

To shower a bloom.

The moon flaunts

Too much,

In your absence.

Come again to

Show him,

Who rules the eve. 

I've forgotten to

Write.

I have forgotten

To feel.

From the ruins of

Our love..

Bring some thorns,

While you pass by..

I might need a 

Prick to bleed.

Come again, 

To make me breath.

Come again,

Let me feel.

Come again, darling

To show me another 

Dream. 

Dead Inside

Longing for you

Even after 

Our separation..

If its not enough

Of a devotion.

Then yes.

I'm an atheist.

If still hoping for

Your return is 

Not enough of

Optimism.

Then yes.

I'm a cynic.

In the middle of

The night.

When I wake up

Gasping your name.

The stroke of

That shock..

How can I 

Describe it?

To put it all in 

Words,

If I've not bled

Enough.

Then, yes.

I'm apathetic.

Vacuum

From deep oceanic
Trenches,
Till the vast expanse,
Of the sky.

Collapsing neutrons
In the core.
Till the doused light
In dying stars.

From a widow's
Eyes to
Sinking hopes in
Hospital corridors.

Loneliness prances
Like a
Hell sanctioned,
Demonic Avatar.

And when it
Joins hands with,
The freak of
Re-enforcing silence..
The noise it makes
Is much more quieter.

Like it's a vacuum.
Sheer Emptiness.

Dust of separation

Dust of separation
Has smothered
My verses.
Stories prematurely
Die.

Has stacked 

Pile of time.

Colors have 

Abandoned my realm.
It's pitch dark.

A veil is spread
On my eyes.
Sight is murky,
I'm almost blind.

Dust of separation
Has taken over
My mind...
Thoughts are
Misaligned.
Sense of perception
Is gone.

Has opened some
Wounds,
I scream your
Name.. but
You're not around.

The dust must
Have settled on
You as well.
Are you too

Screaming aloud?

Stories

Some stories are

Written in blood.

Deep trails and

Sharp edges.

They're too much

Of a trudge.

Some are written

On water.

Invisible.

So forgettable,

That, they almost

Don't exist.

So brief was

Our union.

Yet, so intense.

That it was etched 

On a rock and

Later fed to lava.

Dead poets must

Have painted it.

Our story is just smoke.

It doesn't really exist.

But does it?

Save a Spark

Burn a mountain

If you want.

Chase away all

The cold wolves

On summer night.

Tame the dragons,

Or tumult yourself

In a sea that

Cries fire.

But save a spark,

For the winters.

To light the 

Vulnerable nights.

To fight the blue

Of the dark.

Aid of Divine

Her face is

Moonlight.

Her heart,

The blue sky.

Eyes are wild,

Tone is mild.

Her blush is

A killer when 

She becomes

A child. 

..

As sweet as

A butterfly.

As brave as

The late night.

Down the

Alleys of my

Confused mind

She seems to be

The Answer...

To all my

If and Whys.

..

She's such

A joy.

A touch of

Desire.

A miracle,

I'm not gonna

Lie.

A reason for

My loneliness'

Demise.

An inspiration,

Who makes me 

Fly.

..

Beyond the 

Mortals,

Close to Gods.

She's a fantasy

Divised by 

The aid of divine.

..

Hello

These bruises 

And scars.

Half-cut smiles, 

And broken stars.

Little insides that 

Die daily to 

Humiliation and

Self-sabotage.

The taints we 

Nourish to grow

Colors..

A slang from you,

An Arrow from

Another.

Our palette,

Full of blame 

Is pretty much 

Borrowed.

We're poets sire,

We paint in words,

Take on nerves and

Live in shadows.

You may not 

Recognize us.

We don't reside in

Hearts that are hollow.

Come and see us,

If you've time.

We're just a 

Thought away.

If you peep in 

Your head, 

In search of aesthetics 

In the dust 

Of your mind..

Hello..!

Bday Gone Wrong

It's her birthday

And she must
Be expecting a
Gift.

And I'm all
Caught up in
My head,
Preparing a list.
..
The song I
Wanted to write
Hasn't come in
Handy.

For the train I've
Been waiting,
The signs haven't
Been so dandy.
..
My rhymes are
Still broken.
Words,
Incomplete.

The tones are
Out of sync.
I have run out
Of ink.
..
It's been three
Hours,
Sky is turning
Pink.

She must be
Waiting for
Long..
Her hopes
Shouldn't sink.
..
The train did
Reach late and
She didn't quite
Really wait.

But I did sing
A ballad on 

How they kicked me
Out of her
Hostel gate.
..

Dance

Take off the veil

In your eyes.
Brush away the shade.
Color your gaze.
Tickle your desires,
And to the off-key
Music of your
Head,
Let yourself go.

It's time for you
To dance.
..
Breakaway from
The restraints.
Tear off the
Snares you wear.
It's time to stretch
Arms, to grow wings.

To the tunes of
Euphoria that
Bounces off from
Your redemption..

It's time for you
To dance.
..
Let go of the
Bondage of
Guilt.
Wash clean the
Slate of your sins.
Look yourself in
The mirror.
Hold yourself in
A prayer.
To chimes of
Promises you wanna

Make to yourself..

It's time for you
To dance.
..

Pain

Sadness is my

Old-time homie,
We eat for breakfast,
Our misery.

We go shopping
Insecurities.
When needed,
Plan a heist to
Loot pain from
People's treasury.

Demons lend
Ears to our jokes,
Death wants with
Us a fair duel.

The cold blue
Is our fuel.
Guileful smiles
Elevate our pleasure.

We kill ourselves
In our own stories,
To listen to fancy
Eulogies.

Gods bet against
Our fate.
People distance
Themselves,
Vulnerability is
What they hate.

You seem to be
Keen though.
Hurt? or hungry?

Burnt dandelions 

Must have prepared

A feast.

Let's have dinner-

On the other side 

Of a grave.

Lonely

Embrace yourself.

They said.

Opening my arms,

I wrapped myself.

It wasn't warm.

Loneliness is cold.

In desperation,

I rubbed my hands 

Hard.

They caught fire.

Though,

I'm all burnt.

The deep blue of winter

Is not yet gone. 

Father

Went to school via

An enchanted forest.

Fought with a 

Demon which is 

Still infamous.

A plot he missed

Decades ago is

Worth crores.

Could have married 

Someone better.

But was hitched to

My mother.

Snores so loud,

Roofs can collapse.

Belches so hard,

Even Jet engines feel 

The drag.

Shameless farts,

Deep thrust toothpicks.

Hunts ear-wax with

Almost anything 

That's sharp.

Head buried deep 

In news channels,

He has defaced

Pakistan.

Won wars against 

China and has

Defeated Corona

With blessings of

A local baba. 

With holes adorned 

White vest. 

Big belly is his 

Net worth.

Lungi as his Cape.

My father is a 

Superhero, who

Always swears. 

Desert of my solitude

In the desert of 

My solitude,

Winds are strong.

I fly kites.

In the desert of

My solitude,

Water is scarce.

I dig wells.

In the desert of

My solitude,

Roses are sullen

In memory of 

Your lips.

Sparrows have

Stopped chirping.

In absence of your

Touch.

So I string and

Un-string my desires

To place them in

Desolate tunes.

But I fail.

Nothing grows here

In the desert of

My solitude.

Especially hope.

---

ft Dasht-E-Tanhai by Faiz

Conditions Apply

What if our 

Thoughts collide.

Our footprints align

While we walk.

When filled with 

Desire, what if 

Our heartbeats

Synchronize. 

Overcoming all

Our imperfections.

What if our fingers

Perfectly intertwine.

What if my verses

Rhyme to

The tone of your 

Sweet voice.

Will you love me

Then? Or

You'll wait till..

Your mother agrees,

Father approves.

And the family dog

Sniffs out suspicion

For everyone in home?

Pain

Thousand nails pierce

Through roof of my

House.

It rains fire shortly,

Everything is charred.

Oh! Pain is an

Old friend.

He has a stylish entry.

You should see him 

Leave though.

Like an exit wound

Of a high caliber gun.

He snatches a pound of 

Flesh for his dinner.

He cooks it fine.

But the amount of

Salt he puts is extra hurt.

For which I'm not

That prepared.

I love shade

I love shade. 

Things with some

Degree of fade.

Worn out here 

And there.

Bruised, blemished,

Still their 

Entirety Intact,

Oozing life somehow 

From around 

Somewhere.

Like setting sun's 

Red on blue inlay. 

a memory on rampage..

Sometimes a pain,

Sometimes sweet

As rain.

On a stormy night, 

The ship that

Went on a sail.

Trails of longing,

On faded pic.

A lost love that

Sneaks past mid-night

To evade sleep.

Like the tunes of 

A song on tip of

My tongue,

That I fail to

Recall.

The days of

Childhood that

That seems to be

Escaping from

The clutches

Of my mind.

Blessing in 

One way,

From the other, 

A disgrace.

I love shade.

Things with some

Degree of fade.

In your town

The longing

That fleets in
These words.

The loneliness
That hangs in
My thoughts.

The insecurity
I often talk
About and

The sadness
I always
Reflect has

Shades of
Missing you.

A feeling of
Being lost..
Always clung
To the past..

Perception of
Reality is lost,
My reflection in
The mirror
Has started
Wearing masks.

I have been

Waiting on the

Park bench

For years now.

Can you come

And meet me
This time?

The seed of
The apple I ate
Yesterday, 

Is a tree now.

Prison of Perception

There's nowhere to go

But everywhere.

The moon and the sky

Seem dope but

The cosiness of this room

Is also fine.

There's nothing to 

Think about,

But everything.

Our nothingness in

The universe.

Death is inevitable.

But this material urge

Is beautiful too.

There's nothing to eat

But everything looks

Pliable.

Veg, non-veg and

The way I want to eat you,

Even cannibalism seems

Like an option.

This, that,

Either, or.

Neither, nor.

To the sway of mind,

Everything to nothing..

What's right and

What's wrong?

Upside down, even

Sea is an open sky.

All of you

No I don't want a 

Part of you.

Not the face,

Cheeks, hands or

Just thighs.

I want you in your 

Entirety.

All the shades from

Red to gray.

Sweet to cold.

Colourful to bland.

The smiling, sad,

Loving and horny.

Lift you at red lights

Kind of love. 

Miss you in bathroom

Kind of love.

Forehead kiss and

Unconditional kind

Of love to

Tounge grazing

All over you..

Savoury of your moan

Kind of love.

Crying when you're

Sad kind of love.

And loving you when

High kind of love.

Head on my shoulder 

Kind of love.

Steady caress kind

Of love.

Reason for your laugh

And wiping clean

Your sins kind of

Love.

Cuddles and hugs

And lots of hickies.

Finger up your clit,

Taste your sweat

Kind of love.

Either it's all or

None of it.

Sunsets, starlight

And muse of the

Moon, against

Blank stare at

My wall..

All against one,

One against all

Kind of love. 

Wake of Revolution

Termite infestation

In my heart.

Creeping everywhere,

These dusty burrows

Tell me that they're

A piece of art.

Leaches feeding

On my soul.

Purge of my mind,

The Holi I'm part of

Is a bloody war. 

Gag on my mouth,

Flies in my head.

Blood has turned

Thick, 

A nuclear fission

In wake.

These words,

Crawling inside.

Before they 

Burst open and

Write a revolution..

Give me my pen.

We're United by Pain

Masons laying bricks,

Miners in dark pits.

Mothers in kitchen.

Farmers in a field or

Workers in a factory.

All sweat the same.

We're united by pain.

..

Down and dusted.

Sad and lonely.

Smothered by the

Dread of darkness.

All the tear stains

On pillows stink 

The same.

We're united by pain.

..

Viscous fluid of

Crimson red with,

Ashy metallic taste. 

Under the hide of

White, Black, Albion

And brown..

When hurt, oozes,

All the same.

We're united by pain.

.. 

Thirst in Alaska,

Hunger in Africa.

Siberian cold to

Desperate Asians

Seeking an identity.

We all bleed the same.

We're united by pain.

..

Reflection

When I looked in 

The mirror and 

Stared into my eyes.

Not far away from

The back of my head,

A stranger I did find.

I asked him questions

He ripped me apart.

To his queries 

Silence is all I had.

An eye for an eye.

Arm for an arm.

The duel turned

Into a bloody war.

I'm on run now.

I can't face myself

In the mirror.

There's nowhere to go.

Can you do me

A favor?

Can you place me in

A thought and hide

Me your mind?

Tag me with an

Unsual moment

And stash me

In your memory?

Give me a refuge

And save me 

From myself..

Till I can look you 

In the eye and find

A home in myself. 

Tea Boy

The high castle

Of central vista.

Hosted a meeting

To shape country's 

Futures.

Ministers, 

Bureaucrats,

Business tycoons

And diplomats.

Missiles to 

Nuclear heads.

To power plants to

Mission to moon.

Winning wars to

Invading oceans.

Reclaiming deserts

To colonising Mars.

All plans laid out.

Argued, discussed,

Consensus reached

And concluded.

A little boy in 

Chaddi and vest,

Brought tea for

Everyone present.

Some ignored him,

Some felt pitied.

Anyway the chairman

Called the day...

Mission 2024,

Hailed everyone,

To not look back

Again.

I'm Half a Poem Old

As the darkness

Chased whatever

Seemed to shine.

I took a refuge

In whatever that

Would glow.

A child of desires.

Student of reveries.

A protege of 

Whatever hits the 

Roof of my mind.

I was born three 

Nights ago.

Two rains and 

Half a poem old. 

I'm learning to

Survive a game,

That's rigged in

Favour of adults,

Who have forgotten

To laugh.

I wish

I wish I could

Hold you now.

I wish I could

Smell you.

I wish I could

Let these fingers,

Savor the fire of

Your skin.

I wish I could

Tickle your cheeks,

Kiss your forehead

And Surrender

My sanity to 

Your entirety. 

I wish I could

Recline on our

Comfortable silence,

As your slimy hair

Slip through my 

Fingers.

I wish I could have

A peck on my neck

As you grab me to

Embrace me in 

Your arms.

I wish you wouldn't

Have gone.

I wish I could have

Stopped you.

Bidding adieu was

Your choice.

But letting you go

Was my mistake. 

Gone Missing

Did it slip off 

My pocket or

Jumped out of

My wallet.

Did someone

Steal it or

It has gone in

Hiding.

I've searched

Everywhere.

Ransacked my

Room and 

Grazed up my

Insides. 

In my home,

Around the village.

Under the ground

And over the clouds.

I don't know who

Stole my smile..

Maybe the hefty 

Loan in the bank or 

This abject pain in

My intestine. 

Tired, I reached

My home.

Wife opened the door.

And now I know.

Paint of Penury

You say you're an artist who
Fancies to paint my penury.
Would like to put on a screen to
Capture my dilapidated luxury.
But I assure you, the portrait
Won't be clear or colorful.

All you'll have is my hazy face
Shredded by my helplessness.
Dust-stricken hair and sunburnt skin.
Clench of my look and the doused
Hope in my laughter.

The misaligned, tainted teeth and
Beetel juice that oozes from
The sides of my lips.
The hesitant eyelids flapping from
My sunken eyes-- they demand
Too much, don't they?
Might fall heavy on your paintbrush.

You may gauge skin tone of my
Belly, it still looks human.
But do you have enough in your
Palette to portray my hunger?

The weight of my empty pockets,
That droop my shoulders and
These creases that run restlessly
On my hand, do you how much
Blood they want?

Butterflies in the stomach are
Overrated sire. For some hunger is
Not that colorful.

Democracy

Somewhere,

A little cat 

Shredded a library 

After reading 

String theory.

Angels got drunk

And were wasted.

Dogs leaped to

Heaven, to boost

Its morale.

A throat-less goat,

Scared a faceless

Man elsewhere.

Somehow, it felt

Relatable and 

The idiotic audience

Laughed.

Sea turned thirsty

And gulped the

Beach.

Tourists lost their

Minds,

Trashed the place

To amend the 

Their deeds.

Demons and gods

Played a game of

Carrom.

Fought over the

Queen in the end.

Dispute was resolved

Over a rap battle.

Music was bad anyway.

But whoever lost,

Blamed the EVMs.

Goodbye

As the calendar on

The wall turns to 

December.

You decide to bid me

A goodbye.

I wait scratching

My old scars..

To remind myself..

Of my fresh thirst. 

That only you could

Have thawed.

The fresh etch of

Yearning that only

You were worthy of.

And how through

The groove carved

By the fate itself,

You came in like

The wish granted

By a shooting star.

My soul can go

Adrift now as 

You'll soon be gone.

Might need something

To hold on.

Give me a moment

I can tag it with.

Maybe a kiss to

Leave a mark.

Or you would like to

Stab again?

A scar has a bit more

Shelf-life.

Reveries

To have glistened

Daily in your

Elegant shades.

Like a canvas,

I wish I were

The evening sky.

Woven in the blues

Dim, dusky and

Yet, pleasant.

..

To have embraced

You in my arms,

Like a lover lost in

Fondest reveries.

I wish I were

Close to you. 

To be curled up, 

Entangled.

Intimately messy.

..

To have experienced

A life with you.

I wish we were together.

If not here, somewhere.

If not in this timeline,

In another.

Wrapped in each other.

We could have 

Warped realities.

Stopped time. 

..

Desire

You're eyes are 

Oceans.

Cheeks, fleeting

Feathery clouds.

Nose a distant mountain. 

Lips, abode of

Flooding desires.

Arms are such

A comfort.

A refuge in 

Your bosom is a 

Craving hard to pass.

Your back is point

Where my longing,

Turns restless.

Your navel is 

The reason I fight

My demons.

Trails on your skin

Take me places..

Such a feast for

My hands.

The stardust is

Less appealing.

And the sky

Is a bore tonight.

The revelations

Realized in the

Wrap of your thighs.

Have made my

World insignificant

And the cosmos

Smaller tonight. 

ರಾತ್ರಿ

ನಾನು ಕಣ್ಣು ಮುಚ್ಚಿದಾಗ,

ಕತ್ತಲಾಗುವದಿಲ್ಲಾ.

ನಿದ್ದೆ ಬರುವುದಿಲ್ಲ.

ಸೋತು ಶರಣಾಗಬೇಕಾದ,

ದೇಹ ಮಲುಗುವದಿಲ್ಲ.

ಮನೆಯ ಮಾಳಿಗೆ

ನನ್ನ ವೈಫಲ್ಯ ಮುಖಕ್ಕೆ,

ಕನ್ನಡಿಯಾಗುತ್ತದೆ.

ಅಂತರಾಳವ ಕೆರಳಿಸಲು,

ಗೋಡೆಗಳು ಪಿತೂರಿ

ಹೂಡುದುತ್ತವೆ.

ಕತ್ತಲಾಚೆಗೆ ಕರೆದೊಯ್ಯುವ

ಮಹದಾಷೆ ಆ ಫ್ಯಾನಿಗೆ..

ಕೈಮಾಡಿ ಕರೆಯುತ್ತದೆ.

ಮಂದ ಬುದ್ದಿಯ ಮನಸ್ಸಿನ,

ಕೈಗೆ ಹೂವಾದರೇನು?

ಕೊರಳಿಗೆ ನೂಲಾದರೇನು?

ರಾತ್ರಿಯಿಡೀ ಸಾಂತ್ವನ

ಹೇಳಬೇಕಾಗುತ್ತದೆ.

ಕಾಡ ಕತ್ತಲಿನ ನೀರವ 

ಮೌನದಲಿ, ಕೆಲವೊಮ್ಮೆ,

ಚಂದ್ರ, ನಕ್ಷತ್ರಗಳ 

ಮಿನುಗುವ ಕನಸುಗಳಿಗಿಂತ..

ಅತ್ತ ಇತ್ತ ಹೊರಳಾಡುತ್ತ,

ನಾನೇಕೆ ಉಸಿರಾಡಬೇಕೆಂಬ

ವಾಸ್ತವಿಕ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗೆ ಉತ್ತರ

ಹುಡುಕುವುದೇ ದೊಡ್ಡ 

ಸಾಹಸವಾಗುತ್ತದೆ.

Love can Happen Twice

She'll pass by you

As the wind blows.

And the ache in your 

Heart will be 

Just enough to

Infect you with

Her smile again.

Ground would slip 

From your 

Resolute mind to 

Make you afloat.

A song from around

The time will be

Hooked to all your

Desires.

New perspectives

Will be painted.

With different horizons,

At her behest,

You'll be a fool with

Feelings again.

Love happens twice.

Yes! It can happen

Several times.

It's just a fresh wound 

On an old scar.

Old roots giving way

To a new plant.

Love is a perpetual

Itch of the heart,

That always wants 

To be scratched.

A Personified Fantasy

She has the cheeks of 

My niece. The nose of 

An evening breeze.

Eyes of a Storm and

Lips of someone 

I knew in the past.

The radiance of the girl 

I had a crush in class five.

A lingering smile of 

A lady who passed by.

She's the dew drops, 

And the starry nights.

The warmth of the summer

As the winter grows tight.

Decades of longing 

Hidden in Bollywood songs.

A slow-burn-mystery

Of Alfred Hitchcock's. 

A euphoria. 

A melodrama.

She's an array of 

Fleeting thoughts.

An idea beyond 

Mortal demands..

A perpetual reverie.

An enigmatic melody.

Beyond words, 

Beyond definitions.

Of everything I say and

Everything I don't.

Sometimes mighty. 

Sometimes mellow..

She is simply a SHE.

A personified fantasy.

Artistic Paranoia

For a 

Half baked soul 

In a fully grown

Body.

An overcooked

Poem,

For this night

Feels heavy.

The Ill lit humour,

This sweet 

Dessert carries..

Can subsume

A galaxy..

Can't take it

I'm really sorry.

Those compositions

Are musical

Diarrhoea..

Your paintings,

Artistic malaria.

Is this the way

World's gonna end?

Apocalypse will

Just be an artistic 

Paranoia?

I don't know,

You tell me.

Starting with mine.

You're putting all

The lives at risk.

Tourist

As we danced to 

A slow song,

My hands creeped

Over the chimes of

Your navel.

The sky lit up

While you breathe

Passionately over

My neck.

The evening was of

Possibilities. 

I got a little drunk.

You did a lot and

Passed out.

I sat watching you 

All night.

Morning did break

With high hopes.

But you were gone,

Without any sign.

I wrote a 

Little something to

Lock you in a metaphor,

And preserve you in

My diary.

Of the promising eyes

And enchanted smile.

Hope you're not

Another tourist..

Who hitchhikes with

Thoughts,

Trashes hearts,

To be forever gone. 

Myths of Snowfall

Uncle says

Gods plough

The clouds

To grow cotton

In the sky.

Winter is their

Harvest time.

Hence the snowfall.

..

Mom opines that

All the cats in

Heaven caught a cold.

To allergic pollens,

They sneezed their

Furs out.

Hence the snowfall.

..

My grandma tells

Me otherwise.

Angels tried a

Mortal recipe,

To satiate a kid's 

Demand.

A snowfall hence is 

A Cotton-candy

Gone wrong. 

..

My lover is a

Science grad.

She talks about

Inversion of 

Temperature and

Thermodynamic

Laws.

I believe she's

Not right...

..

Maybe the sky is a

Romantic flirt who 

Desperately wants 

To impress Earth..

Snowfall hence

Is a Patronus spell

Awkwardly cast.

.. 

Unloving Demands Blood

Falling for her
Would have needed
No reason,
Her smile was enough.

Like the slide of knife
On butter.
Slip of tongue as
You stutter.
Love pretty much
Is a work of gravity. 

But un-loving..
Demands blood.
A work of iron with
Deliberate thumps.

You may have to
Chop your tongue,
Vomit your guts.
Stab your heart to
Suppress thoughts.

Kill your mind
With sanity,
Slap your fantasies
With a purpose,
To hold onto reality.

Nights become a
Graveyard and of
Obsolete souvenirs,
You become a dump-yard.

Un-loving is like
Digging a well
In the desert to
Forget thirst..
Heat takes a toll later.
But hope will
Kill you first.

Tear Stains

I'm midnight of 

Forgotten memories.

Abode of redundant

Reveries. 

A purposeless beast.

An incomplete dream.

On any given day,

I'm a bird that has lost

Its way in the Tear-stains

That scream.

Atonement

The pain you've stashed in that box. The dark shades on the walls. The nightmares you've grown fondness to. Buried in contemplation, the way you count the ticks of the clock...

The pillows you fight. The way you think about right and wrong. The times you made shapes with your fingers wishing they were a loaded gun... 

The tear stains, blood thump and the labyrinth you traverse full of regrets. The emptiness you bask in and sadness you romanticize.

Everything needs an atonement.

Don't stare at the fan. It's not worth it. Don't try your wrists. It's not worth it. Here, have a hug. Let everything melt away for good. Here, have some warmth. You don't deserve cold floors.

The sky is yours, so are dreams. So is pinch of happiness against the load of hopelessness. May you carve a smile on your bed and have a happy sleep. May you liberate yourself from your own embrace. 

An Oblivious Day

This is a good day. A normal day. A content day. Also a very very insignificant day. No politician has died today. No major war or a tragedy to tag it with a name.

To be attached to a ritual..No demon was slayed or a god was crucified on this day. Neither I was born nor did she. And everyone in my family did fine I guess..no one has to mourn.

Pretty much no one will remember this day. Down in the history, this will be day written in water on glass. An oblivious day. A forgettable day. A day dreaded by everyone.

Gods, because they're not needed. Demons because they're forgotten. And humans, because of sheer boredom. They've to deal with their individual selves today.

This is a most insignificant day because on this day, time is truly dominant. It doesn't let anyone steal any souvenirs, any memories. It has just swept everything in the abyss of oblivion. A job well done. 

Heart Shaped Mistake

Maybe one day. In a far a away place. I will randomly see you. Like I see you daily in million other faces. This one time, fortunately, I suppose it will be really you.

Maybe you'll greet me as a familiar stranger. Like the fading traces on an old paper, you faintly recall my name. Or maybe you'll remember just more than that. 

I might fantasize for a while. Those strands of hair that run beside your brows. The eyes that knock down the shyness in mine. And the faint carve of your lips that bruise my senses.

And in that moment. While it lasts. While the nostalgia rushes cutting all the walls. While the sanity takes a back seat to believe what's infront of me is actually you.. 

A car would honk to invite me back to the actual reality. And I would realise again, about my heart shaped mistake of seeing you everywhere. 

Dream

Places and people

Are fused.

Twisted timelines,

Mixed up realities.

I punch someone

In the face to

Feel the same pain

In my gut.

Corner kick of 

Mine gets caught

By the goalkeeper

In me. 

The junkie I am

Is chased down

By the charade

Of a cop.

I drown in a 

Bucket of water.

But the coast-guards 

Fail to save.

I become a ghost

But no one is afraid. 

My fleeting soul too

Is a classic fail.

Einstein sentenced

Me to Auschwitz

For violating,

Newton's third law. 

The hangman 

Tightened the noose..

And I wake up in

My room. 

Rehab

The letters you had written. Black trails etched on light blue paper. I've stashed them in a box upstairs. Maybe they're dusted. Possibly decomposed. But they're there.

The greeting cards. Flowers that I've dried and preserved between the pages of diary. Your aroma as scars on my skin and your caress in my humility.

I have preserved your smile too. On a shabby sketch on the wall of my room. There's a photo hung around to poke me in the night. Then lot of bits and pieces in the cupboard.

Sometimes, altogether they simmer. Go top, bottom and sideways and take a toll at what's normal and mundane. I get elevated or go down in an abyss. But I don't complain.

My days are long stretched fights with you in my head. They start with you and end with you. I don't like it. But I'm addicted. And I write about it daily. My diary is a rehab centre I guess. At least that's what I believe. 

Freedom

Freedom is a bird

That hasn't seen

The sea.

From behind the

Cage it learnt

To sing instead.

Freedom is an animal

That hasn't seen

The wild.

From behind a fence

In the zoo, 

It made a kid laugh.

Freedom is my granny

Who hasn't been

Beyond the limits

Of a village.

From her own world,

The stories she told

Are best I've ever heard. 

The wings you flap

When you're fallen.

The dreams you 

Hold on even when

You're broken. 

Silence where words

Are not needed. 

The fight you put up

With bleeding gums

And broken wrists..

Freedom is not 

What you're or

Where are you from.

It's what you do

With what you've.

Laugh it out

I was down and

Dusted.

In a hundred feet

Deep trench.

Dark and gloom

With broken jaw

And a concocted

Head.

I was a miserable

Failure when I

Learnt to laugh.

And good god

I laughed my 

Way through.

Been battered,

Blown.

Thrown to wolves.

Been fed lies

And feasted on

My vulnerability.

But I fixed my face,

Straightens my hair.

Summoned all

Courage and

Laughed my way. 

I laughed till

I cracked my

Bones.

I laughed till my

Stomach gave up.

I laughed till my

Legs took me away 

From the abyss of

Past.

I laughed till

My hands faced

The pain in eyes. 

Now it's a habit.

Happy, sad, angry

Or just fine.

Arrogant, sorry,

Guilty or just

Lying around.

I laugh it out. 

I laugh it all out

To live.

I laugh it all away

To pick myself

To hold on.

I laugh it out

Even to move on. 

I've Found You

When I looked 

In the mirror

And looked in 

My own eyes.

Not far down 

From the best of 

Life's realizations.

Not far away from 

The best of my 

Experiences.

I've found you. 

..

At the stroke 

Of midnight.

When the roof

Of my room threw

My past on my face.

I held a faded pic

Between my guilt

And prayers. 

In the clutches of

My humiliations..

I've found you.

..

Down in a 

Dungeon when 

I was lost.

Demons pranced

Over my chest 

And I had to hold

On to something.

Often as a final 

Ray of hope.

I've found you.

..

From the ticks of

The wall clock to

Folds of my bed.

The late night

Rumbling in my 

Head to the 

Post nut clarity..

You're not really

Gone.

..

Like the rustle

Of dry leaves,

And the feable 

Ramble of my pen.

The steady kisses

Of the wind and

The ubiquitous

Strokes of emptiness..

I thought that love

Would last for ever..

But even in that 

Disappointment..

I've found you.

..

Age

Time creeps like

Weeds in my backyard.

For no good.

Eats lots of space.

Last year.

Yester year and

Even before that..

I breathed fine.

There was room 

For sighs and 

Extra gasps.

Now the age thumps

On my chest, like

An elephant made

Of responsibilities.

Making me lonely

And breathless.

Is choking innate

To adulthood?

Shoul I be carrying

A ventilator and

Incubator?

Or just marry to 

Make my copies

Because there's 

No hope on 

The adult me? 

Main Hoon Na

I know you've

Built walls.

Thick skin.

Sharp eyes.

Iron-clad heart.

The glances 

You hide.

The words you

Hesitantly

Give away..

Pics you refuse 

To send and

The songs you've

Stopped talking

About.

If ever, from,

Over your roof,

The moon falls

And gets you

Soaked in starlight.

The cosmic 

Loneliness creeps

To your bed and

You turn vulnerable..

If you just wanna 

Cry it all away and 

Be real for a night.

Don't hold back..

Call me.

I am there.

Russian roulette

 And when the bluebird rides your thoughts and there is no way out. You take your pen and paper and scribble everything down like you wanna bleed it all out. But It's just a trail of mental diarrhea on paper. Nothing redeeming.

Then the bluebird pokes, chokes, and churns you to find a way out. Hours, days, weeks at the cost of coffee; you just waste ink, mocking, the trees lie in front of you as paper.

From morning to evening. You hang to the shades of despair. Hoping for some Redemption, but it's all just buying time to bottle up more frustration, but the bluebird demands and you have to obey.

So you decide to play Russian roulette. You have to. You against the bird. You put in a bullet, roll the cylinder and hold it to your head. A pen in one hand and in the left, the gun, to keep you at the edge. 

Then the pen moves.. some winds...some stars. moon rain. Fuck. Same Loop, and there is nothing new. The other hand takes and clicks. It's a blank. Deep breathe.. The right one goes again.. scribble.. scribble.

The dark the light and insecure nights...Then. What? Wait, wait what. That's all the bluebird demands. Then another click. Fucking Deer Hunter flashbacks, and then the right-hand moves without even waiting for a gasp. 

The lonely. The only... then what? Christiana Perry to George Clooney? you fucker, don't bring clichés curses the bird. Before you ride another thought, it's over. But not really. Three down and still not a proper sentence?

Writer's block, writer's block, I feel like a stopped clock. Hahaha. Let me complete that for you says the left one.

 Writer's block, writer's block. If not, by claustrophobia. You shall be killed by... There... No word. Click. Game over.

Laid back

I imagine myself rolling from over a hill. Down over the slopes then to a flower laden valley. Just like a rhyme-less melody of a budding guitarist.

I imagine myself diving in the sea. Feel the cold and brush of the liberation. Everything washed away to come up clean.

I imagine myself living in a well. Walls collapsing, bringing upon me, all my fears. Then just flapping my wings to escape the demons.

I imagine myself in the sky like a kite. Wind at the helm and birds as companions. The clouds shower rains and thunderbolts applause. 

One of those days of June noons. When I'm confident enough catch moons. I imagine myself not doing anything and just watch the pouring rain.

Brought to life by my mom's chai. Thanking life for its vanities. I imagine myself, laid back, full of gratitude. Trying to find happiness in little things of life.

New Home

Without any;

Twist and turn.

Devoid of any;

Warmth or cold.

My days rolled by 

Aimlessly.

Like a refugee 

From the past.

To seek an asylum 

In the future.

I was in a 

Perpetual exile.

While time dictated

My expatriation.

I had nowhere to 

Belong. 

Then you came

Along...

Hands clasped.

Fingers intertwined.

Head on shoulder.

You've warped time

To hold me 

In this moment.

And right now,

I'm not a refugee.

My exile has ended.

I've found a home..

In you.

No Glory in Suffering

I blew my mind

And broke my

Bones.

Spent sleepless

Nights to fix

My tone.

Cracked my 

Knuckles,

A thousand times.

To show fate

A middle finger.

Even in a storm

I learnt to laugh.

..

Lying dead in 

Your room,

Collecting dust

As you brood..

There is no

Glory in suffering.

The light at the

End of the tunnel

Is just an unlit 

Lamp.

You just have

Forgotten,

The matchstick

You've already got.

Time doesn't heal..

Darling,

You need to put on

A mask or shed one,

To move on.

..