Showing posts from February, 2011

Remember me?

'Remember me?'
He said, in a hushed up voice,
As if he was not sure of himself;

'Of course! I can!'
She said, full of vigour,
And  with an element of being surprised...

'How are you?'
He asked, still timid,
For within him he had that guilt,
Of being a fugitive for long...

She laughed,
But the sound of laughter had all the stings,
To pierce him through, silently;

'I'm sorry!'
He said,
As the guilt rose like a ball of fire,
Burning his flesh, his soul, his mind...

'You're late...'
She said, calmly,
Like a woman of ice,
Cold, lifeless...

'Some ten years late...'
She added,
And laughed out again;

This time around
The laughter was not stinging,
For it sounded like a muted cry of the heart,
Deep as the deepest and darkest well on earth,
With the wails and tears kept well out of reach
For ignorant  men like him;

'Have a good day...'
She said,
Before hanging up;

He stood there,
Nevertheless, with the phone stuck to his ear,
As if…


If I were a bird,
I would have flown to you
Just at that sunset,pinkish evening,
To sit on your window pane
Through which the last few rays of dying light,
Usually enter your room...

If I had been a bird, somehow,
I would've woken you up,
With songs of our collated memories
Of being united for brief moments-
Those brief moments of eternal joy,
And an union of souls...

If  I could be the wind,somehow
I would go straight to your apartment,
And ram on your glass window
Till you would open it and let me in...
And once ushered in,
I would've blown the coolest air into your brown tresses,
Only to see your flushed reddened face,
Full of coyness and love,
And those strands of brown hair,
Covering your eyes with a playfulness...

O  How I wish
 To be that bird or the wind!


Barring the soft bluish glow of the screen rectangular,
It would have been dark...
And I would have groped my way on,
As blind man does
In broad daylight;

Barring that glow,
I would have been alone-
I wonder,
Like that lame man on the street,
Sans friends...

Barring that presence in absence,
I would be estranged...
I wonder,
As I press keys real,
To get to the unreal-
I go green,
I go red,
I go grey...

Barring that glow,
I would've never been so colorful,
Green, red, grey...
Barring that,
I would've been only pale-
As pale as the worn down structure
Just two blocks away-
Full of cobwebs and dust,
And an unkempt garden,
And a path untrodden for long;

A distant eerie place,
For the estranged, I guess...

The gift

'You told me once
That you would gift me your longest poem
In an evening when the sky would take
The colors of the new bride, remember?'
She said wistfully...

I replied which sounded like a whiff of air,
Passing by uneventfully, like the breeze of summer;

'Brought it?'
She asked, with all eagerness;

'Nah? why? then? why have you come back?'
She asked,
Her voice trailed
And soon got drowned in the rustle of leaves
And, I looked at the western front, red;

'The storm is brewing...we should get back...'
I murmured...
'No! I want the gift!'
She stamped her feet hard on the ground
And I thought, I heard a  little girl's sobs, somewhere ;

I looked at her eyes...
Her beautiful, large, tearful eyes,
And felt so helpless...

'There will be another day...'
I tried to soothe her...

She remained silent,
Looking at the western sky,
Where the red met the black...

The wind rose, finally,
Not like a raging bull st…