because there's a bench
in some future park
that looks empty
without you beside me
because there's a me
in some stupid past
who would have been silly
without you beside me
May 23, 2012
May 7, 2012
The starry night
stars in her eyes
she gazed at the sky
it was a dark night
and the stars lit her face
like a moon in flesh and blood
she gazed at the sky
it was a dark night
and the stars lit her face
like a moon in flesh and blood
the endless canopy above
and infinite darkness below
she spread out her arms
to feel the vastness of it all
an angel floating on ether
we clung to each other
felt the currents of time
and as the clouds crossed the moon
throwing shadows on our faces
we were at one with our good/bad selves
a gust of freezing wind
sent a shiver down my spine
and i snuggled closer to her
she was all the warmth i ever needed
the cold night couldn't have been more pleasant
sent a shiver down my spine
and i snuggled closer to her
she was all the warmth i ever needed
the cold night couldn't have been more pleasant
i wish i could reach out
and pluck a handful of stars
to shower her with
to bring to life all her dreams
and be her hero forever
my world in my arms
i was up there in the clouds
i was up there in the clouds
May 4, 2012
Myopia
बदनसीबी के मौसम
कुछ ऐसे घर कर गए
दरिया किनारे बैठे
हम प्यासे मर गए
बारिश की बूँदें आईं तो
मन हल्का करने हमारा
हम छाता उड़ जाने का
ग़म मनाते रह गए
कुछ ऐसे घर कर गए
दरिया किनारे बैठे
हम प्यासे मर गए
बारिश की बूँदें आईं तो
मन हल्का करने हमारा
हम छाता उड़ जाने का
ग़म मनाते रह गए
May 3, 2012
Reporting from the battlefront
Had someone put up a bounty on his head? Or had he pissed off some heavenly deity in some obscure way? Something must REALLY have gone wrong. He had half a mind to stare at his palm - maybe under the pretense of wiping his hands? - to see if he could see some line crossing another at an inappropriate angle. But no, he didn't have even an iota of knowledge of palmistry. Nor was he privy to heavenly chatter or mafia murmurings. No, he was just a victim. A lamb for slaughter, he was sure. She was here. And so was she.
Wait a minute. Back up. A brain-freeze is known to induce ambiguous usage of pronouns. She was here. His ex-girlfriend. And so was she. His present flame. A less-than-amicable breakup flashed before his glazed eyes. A reminder and an omen portending an impending doom. He stared at his ex, E, walking up to him with a funny look in her eyes. He stole a glance at the girl of the present, P, happily munching on the KFC chicken, entirely oblivious of the events that were soon going to lead to a position where she was going to be undoubtedly playing a pivotal role.
E and P?? What the fuck? But he knew what his brain was doing subconsciously. Saving him from the conflict for some more time. Any attempt at uttering both the names in the same space could lead to setting up of internal fireworks and alarm systems associated therewith and would send him scurrying to safety, for sure. He was fully aware that running off from a date you have fought for is generally acclaimed to augur an incruciating death to the relationship. And by the look in E's eyes, the P-E meeting was going to happen irrespective of his presence in the same frame. And any possibility of salvaging some unburnt ties from the ashes of the aftermath was contingent on his ability to stay rooted to the spot against all the machinations of his now-overworking brain.
PE. Private equity. Physical Education. One more E and his urge right now. STOP MEANDERING!! He shouted to the little doom-demons doing the death-dance in his deranged head.
The sudden freeze-frame was bound to attract P's attention sooner or later. Out of the corner of his eye, he could sense her staring at him, half-mutilated chicken piece in hand and a small spattering of crust crumbs on her lips. And he could also sense her following his gaze to espy E, her mandibular mechanism stopped in a mid-chewing stance. The raised eyebrow was giving him goosebumps. He was pretty sure it was the goosebumps who noticed P's noticing before he noticed her. Did he have a sixth sense, something that was now awakening in response to this heightened sense of danger? No, that couldn't be. Not warning him of being in E's vicinity was enough reason to write off any ESP.
E in a KFC? Didn't she use to be a vegetarian, one of the few commonalities with him that remained in the course of their relationship running its due course. The bounty-theory he had started with, must be the real culprit. No other plausible explanations came to his mind. And then it struck him. Like a 18-wheeler striking into his puny car at full force - one of his favorite nightmares despite the fact that he had never even seen a 18-wheeler. Alas, after today, this particular nightmare would fade away as a fond memory, to be replaced by whatever-was-going-to-happen here-and-now. And the growing weight in his chest was that of information asymmetry.
Really? His econ lectures coming to the fore? But this was hell - anything and everything was possible and plausible. This wasn't really information asymmetry in the strict sense anyway. So the deal was this. He knew E and P (duh!) and he suspected E knew about P, given her intent expression bearing down on him as she strode down. P, however, was going to know about a few things only a few moments from now - things she should have been told more than a few months ago. Not that he hadn't intended to. But he had insufficient data to model her behaviour in order to predict her reaction and besides, a status quo involving a relationship status that reads committed, takes a lot of courage to meddle with.
The silence was deafening. He was stuck between the eyes-boring-into-him and the clicking-heels-walking-towards-him. His mental ruler was doing the required countdown in inches, with real time conversion to centimeters - just to avoid calculating the possible aftermath scenarios. He braced himself, steeling up for whatever it was that was about to happen, while doing a mental summation of the investment he had made in the relationship with P, wondering if it would be enough to survive the sudden depreciation it was going to be subjected to. A back of the envelope calculation told him he'd done well and might have a slim chance of surviving this catastrophe with the aforementioned status quo. And here she was.
"I see you've started eating meat for HER."
The tone. The emphasis on 'her'.
Staring at the contents of his hand, he knew he was as dead as the chicken he was holding.
Wait a minute. Back up. A brain-freeze is known to induce ambiguous usage of pronouns. She was here. His ex-girlfriend. And so was she. His present flame. A less-than-amicable breakup flashed before his glazed eyes. A reminder and an omen portending an impending doom. He stared at his ex, E, walking up to him with a funny look in her eyes. He stole a glance at the girl of the present, P, happily munching on the KFC chicken, entirely oblivious of the events that were soon going to lead to a position where she was going to be undoubtedly playing a pivotal role.
E and P?? What the fuck? But he knew what his brain was doing subconsciously. Saving him from the conflict for some more time. Any attempt at uttering both the names in the same space could lead to setting up of internal fireworks and alarm systems associated therewith and would send him scurrying to safety, for sure. He was fully aware that running off from a date you have fought for is generally acclaimed to augur an incruciating death to the relationship. And by the look in E's eyes, the P-E meeting was going to happen irrespective of his presence in the same frame. And any possibility of salvaging some unburnt ties from the ashes of the aftermath was contingent on his ability to stay rooted to the spot against all the machinations of his now-overworking brain.
PE. Private equity. Physical Education. One more E and his urge right now. STOP MEANDERING!! He shouted to the little doom-demons doing the death-dance in his deranged head.
The sudden freeze-frame was bound to attract P's attention sooner or later. Out of the corner of his eye, he could sense her staring at him, half-mutilated chicken piece in hand and a small spattering of crust crumbs on her lips. And he could also sense her following his gaze to espy E, her mandibular mechanism stopped in a mid-chewing stance. The raised eyebrow was giving him goosebumps. He was pretty sure it was the goosebumps who noticed P's noticing before he noticed her. Did he have a sixth sense, something that was now awakening in response to this heightened sense of danger? No, that couldn't be. Not warning him of being in E's vicinity was enough reason to write off any ESP.
E in a KFC? Didn't she use to be a vegetarian, one of the few commonalities with him that remained in the course of their relationship running its due course. The bounty-theory he had started with, must be the real culprit. No other plausible explanations came to his mind. And then it struck him. Like a 18-wheeler striking into his puny car at full force - one of his favorite nightmares despite the fact that he had never even seen a 18-wheeler. Alas, after today, this particular nightmare would fade away as a fond memory, to be replaced by whatever-was-going-to-happen here-and-now. And the growing weight in his chest was that of information asymmetry.
Really? His econ lectures coming to the fore? But this was hell - anything and everything was possible and plausible. This wasn't really information asymmetry in the strict sense anyway. So the deal was this. He knew E and P (duh!) and he suspected E knew about P, given her intent expression bearing down on him as she strode down. P, however, was going to know about a few things only a few moments from now - things she should have been told more than a few months ago. Not that he hadn't intended to. But he had insufficient data to model her behaviour in order to predict her reaction and besides, a status quo involving a relationship status that reads committed, takes a lot of courage to meddle with.
The silence was deafening. He was stuck between the eyes-boring-into-him and the clicking-heels-walking-towards-him. His mental ruler was doing the required countdown in inches, with real time conversion to centimeters - just to avoid calculating the possible aftermath scenarios. He braced himself, steeling up for whatever it was that was about to happen, while doing a mental summation of the investment he had made in the relationship with P, wondering if it would be enough to survive the sudden depreciation it was going to be subjected to. A back of the envelope calculation told him he'd done well and might have a slim chance of surviving this catastrophe with the aforementioned status quo. And here she was.
"I see you've started eating meat for HER."
The tone. The emphasis on 'her'.
Staring at the contents of his hand, he knew he was as dead as the chicken he was holding.
May 1, 2012
balderdash :)
Don't you think it's funny?
What's funny?
The fact that you're so madly, deeply in love.
Why should that be funny? As a human being, I'm perfectly capable and deserving of that emotion/feeling.
That is so.
Why that stupid grin on your face then?
When I met you, I never thought I 'd see this face of yours.
What did you expect then? That I'd never fall in love?
No, no, not that. I just thought you'd be more in control of the situation and your emotions. You're a giggling, stupid-er version of your earlier self.
Am I so?
Yes, you are. But this one is definitely more lovable. One you could cuddle up to.
So - if I understood you correctly - to be capable of your love, one has to dumb down several notches??
Of course. I want to be the one who cracks all the funny jokes.
With that stupid grin of yours?
Yes.
I think I could live with that. And this giggling.
I know.
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