One day,
You'll go away my love.
Tomorrow or day after.
The clouds will no longer
Come up to usher rains
But to just spread gloom.
A part will be ripped off.
Songs will be unsung.
Stories will be unwritten.
And there will be
A void left. That can
Only be filled by you.
That will always
Await for you.
Night's fantasy
Blown away by
The bright daylight.
Her winter's embrace,
Threatened by
A warm sunshine.
A dead door nail,
I'm in her life.
Transient me,
A transient life.
I've questions
I don't wanna ask.
Answers she might
Not wanna know.
So I sit here locking
Things in metaphors.
Knitting wings to
My words.
So that they can
Linger around and
Can never be
Unsaid or unheard.
If you see beyond
Your pompous 'I'.
Before the horizon
Of your ego.
There's a place that
Holds your attitude.
To the left
Make a diversion.
Don't take the bend
Beside the prejudice.
Or the one that's
Opposite to gratitude.
That one leads to an
Island of arrogance.
Take the one that's
Left of hate and to
The right of envy.
And just beside love-
If you find yourself
At a place called 'us'
Let me know.
I'll see you there.
Sealed the mouths.
Pens snatched.
Papers seized.
All the poets were
Surrounded and
Burnt to death.
A metaphor was
Born out of the
Ashes.
It radiated poems.
Like it was a
Radioactive decay.
Gags removed,
Chains melted.
Free thoughts
Survived.
The rest couldn't
Breath the clean air.
It was too toxic.
Eleventh class in Navodaya, during our times was just a long struggle from class to computer lab. "You owe yourself lots of computer lab" that was the philosophy. And on a lighter note it was acceptable by everyone, even teachers. At that age of wide awakened adolescence, only hormones lead one's way through the computer.
The year was 2009 and by then internet was a thing. Though the connection was not profuse in the campus, it had made its presence to the extent that its absence was felt. And this absence was rampant in computer lab. Fortunately the Vice Principal's chamber had a good connection. But that place had become point of everyone's aspirations. From teachers to students, everyone wanted poke their nose in there. And at any given time a teacher was present, specially the then PGT chemistry Mr. Pulin Nath.
Amidst this silent fray of students and teachers, it was one such morning which wanted to give chance to teenagers. At that right stroke of the clock, two guys got that opportunity. Or should I say they grabbed it. Somya and Satya when they found out VP's son Aravind was sitting in front of the computer, Somya knew what to do. Well, any other guy wouldn't have dared but he was a good bully. He knew how get at the nerves of people. And it was nothing of an effort for him to sway a sixth class kid like Aravind back to the classroom.
Tech support Satya caught hold of the computer and the muscle power monitored for the potential human threat that might enter the VP room. Satya browsed through some videos. Hit the download, selected the autoplay option and waited for the process to get over. But well, well, well, guess who kicked a surprise. Pulin Nath sir made an royal entry and took a seat as if he was rightful heir of the throne.
The damned autoplay option while downloading had put both of our guys into a life and death situation. Thanking the slow internet for buying some time, Somya rushed to the classroom and explained the gravity of the situation. Then, few guys who understood chemistry and few audience like me who had no interest in chemistry made our presence in VP room.
The plan was to ask doubts and divert attention of the teacher. Satya would ambush from the other side and cancel the download. So this went on for a while. Guys would poke doubts one after one. Sir hesitantly would look at them and say something then on to his business. He wouldn't give up the mouse. This happened over and over his bloody right hand was all attached to the mouse. Right at that moment someone came up with a problem that involved some calculations and formula. Well, this time he had to. He looked at it, seems he also found it intriguing. Right hand made it's move, took a pen and Satya cancelled it.
Seemed like the doubts of the whole class for then whole year were cleared at once. Just another day, another mess up and another escape. All hail eleventh class.
Through the darkness,
I stare at the ceiling.
It can't get any emptier.
And the silence spreads.
Smothers my mind
With a blank paper.
A blinding white.
A lonely echo from
Around the corner says,
Darling, you don't need
A pen to carve
Your words tonight.
I'll just make you bleed.
And this carnage
Goes on very night.
And you my friend,
If you ever fall short
Of words, come. Collect.
There's enough
Bloodshed.
You fix my wings,
I will fix yours.
And one day,
We will fly away.
Just like that, we'll
Go away my love.
Somewhere far.
Beyond the horizon.
Beyond the clouds.
Beyond the
Shackes of logic.
Beyond the
Ironclad morals of
Right and wrong.
Let's fly away.
And we'll ride a
Shooting star to
A place in eternity.
We'll camp there.
Let's bleed pain,
Let's drink love.
And smoke time
To breed
Some memories.
We will fly away
My love.
One day
We will fly away
And live.
By the time summer was set in Delhi, in 2016. I was in a bad shape. Because of the isolation, I was lonely and to some extent home sick. But the goal was to keep aside everything and concentrate on the classes and the exams. And as the days rolled by the condition worsened.
My emotional state was bad, that was one thing, upon that Delhi's scorching heat was really getting on my nerves. Imagine, riding a bicycle in 40-42 degree celsius, make it through the traffic. You come to the room, go to the bathroom, let the tap run and quench your feet. And the water is killing hot. The amount of irksome that shoots up your spine is god level.
But that was not the worst. The nights were a torture. Besides the heat, the mosquitoes joined the fray. Though fan was a relief, it also vent hot air. The irony was I had to lay half naked, can't switch off the fan, can't pull over a sheet. Heat and mosquitoes teamed up, it was a real onslaught. The only companion by my side was the ceiling fan. There was a cooler but that damn thing used to increase humidity and it was another kind of torture. Few hours of successful sleep was the only win I wanted out of that mess. And most of the times, I used to have some sleep.
One of the nights, past midnight, I was about get sleep and suddenly there was power cut. The forever presence of the squeaky sound of the fan was gone. That made me aware of my surroundings for the first in a while. The buzz of mosquitoes, sweat off my brow and the sound of vehicles from a far away road. In one word it was a vacuum. I was helpless, left alone in the fray and I roamed around restlessly to save myself from the mosquitoes.
The ceiling fan that was present round the clock had made it's absence felt. The little thing that was always a button away went unnoticed almost every day. Maybe that was the loneliest I have ever felt. Suspended in my thoughts, then I lay dead on my bed. Then a faint light from the window reached me, there was relief. The squeaking of the fan filled the vacuum. There was peace.
The next day morning, the forever old companion was not just an equipment. I looked at it, the way Pi would have looked at his fierce companion Richard Parker. I helped myself with a chair, took a cloth and wiped the fan clean. Why not a small gesture of gratitude.
I wish we were real.
Not the two,
Behind the screens,
Thanking and whining
And listening to each
Other's lamentations.
I wish, the thing
Between us, was not
As sublime as the
Words consumed by
The backspace.
Emotions contained in
Characters and
Expressions thrust
In emojis.
I wish, there was more.
Shade of your anger,
An elegant blush.
A comfortable silence.
A talk over tea, fight
Over breakfast, then
A traveling spree maybe.
Drown in dreams and
Consumed by each other.
I wish you were here and
We had some rough
And raw moments.
I wish we were real.
I wish we had a life.
