A Tale of how the Corona Lockdown helped me talk to the Stars again Last Night
I talked to the stars after a long time last night,
I used to do that when I was a child,
Venus was shining so bright,
It looked at me and I looked at it,
We flirted a little,
Through my eyes and its shine.
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Last time I talked to it I was a child,
The air was cleaner,
And the sky shone brighter,
There was no polluting barrier,
Between me and the skies.
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The stars and I relived memories last night,
I asked them to pray for the humans and their plight,
A bird cooed, a bat flew,
I wasn’t scared,
I knew the nature and I were in harmony,
After a long while last night.
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Always isolated, I looked at Venus again last night,
My old friend, my partner in crime,
I realised I had been alone and had missed it all this time,
The skies are what we all share,
So, I prayed with the stars for all humans last night.
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I even bribed Venus to abduct me last night,
It winked at me and said,
Some day soon it might.
As I sat on the terrace last night,
After a long time since forever,
I wasn’t alone with my thoughts on a night.
Because sometimes Capital Punishments can create a rift between Parents and Child, one that can never be filled
Note: This is not related to my book. Just a fleeting thought I penned.
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It was nothing new for me,
When my father hit me,
I had been disciplined since childhood,
With sticks and brooms and slaps and kicks too,
That was my parents style of venting out their anger,
And rearing the elder kid too.
I grew apart from them with time,
They never understood why I rebelled,
As I reached my teens I started losing my cool,
So it was nothing new for me,
When my father hit me.
I reached my twenties,
I found a partner and as he went through a harsh phase,
I wanted to be there for him, listening to him into the night,
It was something my father couldn’t digest,
At the age of twenty four,
It was again nothing new for me,
When my father took a stick and hit me,
I protested and I shoved him back, my mother called me crazy,
After all hitting back is not how I have been disciplined.
More than a year later I can still see the marks upon my waist,
A reminder of that ill fated day,
What had been my fault?
Was it wrong to be there for someone you love?
But then parents can do no wrong,
They have always reared us with so much love,
So I am not allowed to question them,
Or tell others the very same, what would society think of them?
And anyways also I should have been used to it,
Why would I even cry over this common occurrence?
After all it was nothing new for me,
When my father hit me,
It is just how I have been disciplined.
“A Tale of Vinayak: a House of Bricks and Stones which is a Son, a Brother, A Protector and More”
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I wondered why they named our house,
My parents, you know,
An embellished Marble stands at the gate,
With the name Vinayak.
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With time I came to realise,
It held a deep meaning,
It’s the one of the many names,
That the Hindu Lord Ganesha holds,
If my devoted mother ever had a son,
She would have probably named him Vinayak.
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Come to think of it,
This house is akin to a son,
Each brick, each Stone was engraved,
By the hard earned money,
Of their own time and efforts,
Isn’t that what parents do for their children?
It’s certainly no less than a son,
Its the result of their own lifeblood,
This house called Vinayak.
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A few years Younger to me,
But it has seen all my phases,
From childhood to youth,
It has held my deepest and darkest secrets.
A great listener, my partner in crime,
My closest confidante,
It has seen me laugh, It has seen me cry,
It has supported me through in the Most Painful and solitary of times.
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It protects us all from the perils outside,
People say you are two sisters,
But I say NO, we have a brother,
More humane than many outside, Over the years HE has stood and still stands tall,
For people it might be bricks and stone,
For us it’s a son, a brother, Our Protector,
And HIS name is Vinayak.
“A Tale of a Woman who has promised an Eternity to only one man in her Lifetime”
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Each time I talk to you,
I am filled with a warmth,
That words fail to describe.
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Each moment with you,
Brings time to a stand still,
My emotions an open book,
As I delve into their depths,
Everything, Only makes me realize;
There can never be another,
There is no other safe haven,
Not for me.
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I can’t promise an eternity to someone else,
Not in this lifetime,
Even if I failed to be your light,
The place you find peace,
Or your home.
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And as the tears flow down,
I just want you to know,
When it came to you,
Destiny never gave me a choice,
Love for you was preordained,
And ever since that happened,
Never once have I wanted to leave its snares.
Tale of a Strong Woman with a Dead Soul who finds her Existence Pointless
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She wanted to be the girl in his poems,
The one he would never forget.
She wanted to be the girl in his sketches,
The one he would always need,
Just like the air he breathes.
She wanted to be the girl in his dreams,
The one he would fight for,
One he would forever be at the side of.
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Instead she became the girl who wrote odes to her pain,
In trying to become his muse,
She lost her own self.
The girl who pretended to be happy even when sad,
Tried to be strong even when weak,
All this just for him;
Her hollow eyes had no expression,
When she realised she was so replaceable, so easily forgotten.
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Even after all that, Lust driven men chased after her,
Trying to claw at the numb remains of a body, with a shattered soul,
Nobody seemed to care, she had emotions too.
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Left Uncared & Unloved for, people sing praises of her strength,
The girl who became her own muse.
A girl who seems stone cold,
Shrouded in a constant mystery,
One who loved and fought with all her being,
something the ones in her life failed to reciprocate.
A wounded tigress they call her,
But she is just a girl with a dead soul,
One whose tears fail to flow,
One who feels she has no regrets, To the extent that,
She finds her mere Existence pointless.
“Tale of an Innocent Inspiration, A Forever Bond, one that makes you feel cherished for a Lifetime”
Do you ever wonder why you rarely become my muse?
It’s not that you don’t inspire,
You have always been there,
Inspiring me more than anybody else.
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The journey with you has been way too long,
From the days of yore,
When we were innocent and naive,
To getting entangled in the snares of life,
That changed us slightly and then some more.
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Over the years,
You are still as honest as the time we were kids,
Me, Maybe not as chaste,
Time and tide have taken a toll,
I am not even an ounce of what I was anymore.
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Yet through it all,
Having you beside,
Has been a blessing in disguise.
You are a man who has always made me believe,
That maybe, just maybe, forever is not a lie.
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The times have been many,
When without any intention,
In one blissful moment,
You have made me feel cherished for a Lifetime,
And trust me,
It’s an emotion even words fail to describe.
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P.S.: To that one childhood bond that went from an innocent friendship to something way more deep. To An innocent, honest, insane yet logical man with a golden heart. One who has always refused to leave no matter how crazy life gets. Here is to almost 10 years of illogical conversations, senseless fights, misunderstandings, the long dry spells of not talking and the lifetime kind of bond despite the distances. I love you, Anchor Boy. Stay the same, never change.
“Tale of an Innocent Inspiration, A Forever Bond, one that makes you feel cherished for a Lifetime”
The Soul's Urge 