The waves rushed to kiss the shore. Again and again.Quenching its desire.

The sea eagle spread its wings once more.Wanting to reach the sun.

Someplace in the city tonight,

Hopes want to shine bright,

Refuting the black of darkness,

Aspirations and dreams

Spiral up in the colorful beams!!

====================================

The sunset catches the glint of my longing.

 The breeze sweeps it away.

 I’m a wisp of your imagination.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The grass blade stood tall, It’s emerald desire glistened, The wildflower leaned closer, As if it was the breeze that had swayed her.

Rapunzel Revisited!!

She gathers her dark, heavy tresses,
Into a firm knot at the nape of her slender neck,
Taut with tension, there’s seems no release.

She swallows once, sucks her breath in,
And takes a determined step, away from her shadow life,
Her fixed gaze, looks beyond the horizon.

With a renewed vow, she let's her hair escape, and
Cascade all the way down her spine,
Proclaiming her resolve to escape a dull peripheral existence.

Here Today ...Gone Tomorrow !!

Tomorrow, when I would have gone a long way in life,
One day, I may, recall Today.

I would smile at my trials to sound intelligent,
"As if it was so necessary, silly me", I'd say to myself.
I would hate the way I snapped back at people and thought highly about myself
"So shallow, so false", I'll smirk.
I would reminisce about the times I spent dreaming of rose blooms
And inhale deeply trying to smell the magic,
Wishing it to be lingering still, somewhere in the corner of my minds.
I would mull over the chats and the pretty laughs,
The unmindful banter and nonchalant decisions.
I would love my life, still want to rewind,
and sigh at what I left back carelessly.
I would treasure the memories, with their scent and color et all.
And would go back into my shell when I’d want to relive them.

Thank God... There's time for tomorrow...

Kite....

I am torn, exhausted,
The sky is no more
The friend that it used to be,
It’s scary, it’s alien.
Hold me tight,
Lest I get flown away,
There where I don’t want to be.
Stuck on trees,
Dangling from unknown electric lines,
Chased and leered at by beings…
Why all the pain
When I can rest in your hands,
And still be loved,
And cherished
As a kite
And not merely as its memory

Here....It is Me !!

Here.
There's no need to hide from anyone,
I stand erect and correct all the time.
No fears.
No hesitations.
No shames.


Here
There's no one - just me,
I run around liberated, ecstatic.
There's space.
There's love.
There's acceptance.


Here
There's nothing that is portrayed unreal,
I see things plain and simple.
Sans show offs.
Sans shallow egos.
Sans make ups.


Here
There's no need to prove myself,
I smile at my face unveiled.
Im Strong.
Im Intelligent.
Im Lovely.
Here
I am Me.

Nowhere to be found .

"I know you've been wondering why I am doing this. But i have to. I have to move on.... I thought about it. Not once.. but a zillion times. It would have never worked. Never. I know you feel that i used you... and that i am the meanest person on the face of Earth to be doing this to you."


She looked out of the window, fighting the urge to hate herself.

"I was rude, I know... Cruel at times... Treated you as if you meant nothing to me... But I really liked you. And that's it. There were times when I questioned whether it was love or an honestly non platonic piece of feeling... It wasn't love for sure. Maybe it was just a wish to keep all that was mine tightly packed in a box. Whether that was necessary or not."

"Life would be the same without you. I promise. I would get up like everyday.. go to work... come back.. crib.. be my Crabby self and be happy. I promise. And you have to promise me something. Let's play God for once. Let's forget that we were together. Let's forget the first time i had seen you. Let's forget the hours that you clung on to my ears as I happily told myself that I am beautiful. I don't want to say sorry. This was what it was going to be. Both of us knew it. I knew it the very time I lost a piece of you to the sands of the ocean... Let's face it."

She looked at the cone shaped brass earring... wishing she hadn't lost its pair. She held it gingerly between her fingers.. and brought it close to her right earlobe...

"And a number of years hence, if I accidentally find you amidst the sundries in the box, I would want you to smile at me and tell me I am still beautiful. I know you'll do that for me."


Carefully placing it back into the box, she fingered her new pair of earrings... They gleamed in the evening sun that trickled into her room from the glass window to the right of the mirror. She was going to wear them tonight. Not the brass earring. She sighed.

Words of Shakespeare

Give me my Romeo; and when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night

And pay no worship to the garish sun.

We are all walking on the thin ice of trust. The ice is the last shimmer of hope…hope, that we all are still safe… standing firmly-footed. But there is this fear…fear of tumbling down into the chilled blue water… gasping… losing ourselves … forever.

Trust, once broken, never really comes back. A betrayed person can never trust twice with the same heart, the same fearless spirit like he/she did for the first time. There’s always a sight of the cold, blue ocean lurking behind in their thoughts…… and an overcoming sense of loss…that’s perhaps even more painful than death…

Queenie....Cont.....

Flash Back....

Shruti flipped through the pages of the classic, “The Burial”. Then she closed the book and eyed the maroon hard bound cover. Running her fingers through the text on the cover, she considered whether she should read it. She had never heard of the author.

“Erin Mathew…” said a voice behind her. She turned around to find an African American woman standing there. “He ain’t a famous author but that ain’t enough a reason to keep that book back.”, she said with a smile. Shruti felt a little embarrassed and surprised to find someone reading her thoughts. “No.. uhmm. I was just..”
“Oh come on!... I’m Emily”, the woman said and extended her right hand.
“Shruti”
“That’s a lovely name I must say!” said Emily. “And that..”, she said pointing at the Shruti’s hand, “is a lovely book, Shrewti. You can trust me on that.”

***************************************************

Emily was one of the very first friends Shruti had made since she and her father had shifted base to Calcutta… and perhaps the only foreigner friend that she ever had. She was a native of Ethiopia, born and brought up in the South America… a middle aged woman, mother of two and a proud owner of a huge library that she often mentioned about. She had come to Calcutta with her group to serve at ‘Nirmal Hriday’, a home for the needy in Calcutta. After a months stint as her friends made their way back, Emily had preferred to stay back.

“For good?” she was asked.

And she had replied, “I may come back if I find another reason to live.”
Shruti never asked Emily much about her past, about why she was in India when her family was miles away in Peru. Perhaps an unsuccessful marriage, or maybe her kids had disowned her.. or maybe she just wanted to run away from her past.
Despite her altruistic nature, Emily would prefer burying herself deep in the world of books otherwise spend her time helping the needy in foster homes as a part of a Baptist mission. Some days, Emily would excuse herself from everything and go missing. On being asked where she had been, she would smile and say, “Just stepped out to breathe.” Shruti would roll her eyes when Emily uttered her favorite line, “You are the queen of your life, Shruti. Never let anyone rule you.”

******************************************************

Shruti quickly made her way into the house. Carelessly flinging the bag full of grocery into a corner of the kitchen slab, she rushed into the living room with the letter. “God knows how long it has been inside the box. Sheh! How could I not see it there? How could I!”She opened the envelope carefully, making sure she dint tear the priceless sheet of paper inside.

“Dear Shruti…” It read…

I had this weird feeling that I was getting old. One day I was coming back to my place and I realized I had forgotten how to climb the stairs. Another day, I spent hours after a shower, wondering how to button my shirt. And when one day I found I had kept my books inside the closet instead of the bookshelf, I realized it couldn’t just be old age. They say it’s a disease. But I am of another opinion. I call it Nirvana. It’s just a way you give up everything that you ever had, before you finally rest in peace. Your belongings, your habits, your identity... Everything.

I knew I had to let my Queenie know that in some time, I may be stepping out for good. All I had was your address. Hence the letter.

These girls here are very kind. They remind me of my efforts to help people at Nirmal Hriday. Albeit, it’s weird to realize that I had never envisaged myself, lying in one of these beds one day.

They asked me a few days ago what I would want t do before I die a cerebral death. I told them I want to write to two people – to you and to my daughter, Queenie. And I told them that when I die, I wish to be cremated, and not put inside a coffin. In the so called happy half of my life, Shruti, I have lived inside a box. I know I won’t find peace lying inside one, albeit dead.

I’d love it if you could come and meet me once. I have no idea for how long my brain can fight senility. But if I smile and call you Queenie, you’ll know I’ve not stepped out yet.

Shruti folded the paper and felt the envelope. She could not tell whether it were her tears or the shock that blurred her sight. Inside her mind, were a thousand questions gyrating in a maddening rhythm.

“Emm…” She mumbled.

Her mobile phone rang, whirring on top of the dining table. She stared at it, not being able to move… and watched it ring till the tone died down and gave way to a deafening silence.
******************************************************

Queenie..!!

As she parked her car along the usual slot, Shruti could hear her phone ringing from inside her purse.

“That must be Ravi...”

Her husband had flown to Bangalore the previous day to attend a meeting and hadn’t telephoned yet. She was asked not to call on his cell till 7 in the evening. And he had promised he would call her once the meeting got over.
It was dark already and her sleek black mobile phone had apparently hidden itself under the piles of papers and sundry she usually stuffed her bag with.

“Damn…”

After a few more seconds, the ring tone died down and all she could hear was the humming of the car engine.
She knew he’ll try again. Probably after a few minutes. He would know she missed the call searching frantically for the phone inside her bag. That was how it always had been. Shruti smiled to herself.

She got out of the car grabbing the bag of grocery she had picked up on her way back. As she walked towards her home, she eyes fell on the letter box hanging on the wall right next to the door. It was there on that wall ever since they had shifted to their independent villa. Seven years, two kids and two dogs after their marriage, the wooden box had shriveled and given up on the moist laden Augusts . This would perhaps be the last monsoon it would witness.

It was then that something caught her attention. She could see the corner of a paper from the gap which was left for letter to be put into. Perhaps as invitation, or some notice… or just an ad. showcasing a sale in some random store. She would never be interested. Forget it. Nevertheless, she walked towards the letter box and opened the small window and took it out.

It was a letter. From the stamp she could make out it travelled over seas to reach her. On the cover was written in cursive writing…

To,
Shruti Sharma
C-9/13
Behind Chopra Palace
North Extension
Pune

Shruti frowned. Who would send a her letter in the age of E mails? She flipped it and read what was written at its back.

I found you, Queenie….. with a familiar inverted curve under the phrase and two dots under that. Her heart missed a beat as she blinked in disbelief. “Emily!!!!”
She almost shrieked. After eleven years, Emily had ultimately found her Queenie.. as she lovingly called her.


To be continued...

Some birds fall down before their time,
Some flowers dry up before sunshine,
Some tears are stolen,
Some smiles are mine.

==========================================================================

Favorite

हम तो बचपन में भी अकेले थे
सिर्फ़ दिल की गली में खेले थे

एक तरफ़ मोर्चे थे पलकों के
एक तरफ़ आँसूओं के रेले थे

थीं सजी हसरतें दूकानों पर
ज़िन्दगी के अजीब मेले थे

आज ज़ेहन-ओ-दिल भूखों मरते हैं
उन दिनों फ़ाके भी हमने झेले थे

ख़ुदकुशी क्या ग़मों का हल बनती
मौत के अपने भी सौ झमेले थे

By: JAVED AKHTAR

!!!!!!

Do boond umeed ki
Zindagi udhaar ki

Gungunate pal ne dikhaya
Dhoop chaav ka aangan
Pehli baarish aur woh pehli chot
Jaada nahi bas maangte hai
Packet bhar khushiyo ki fauz

Thand si dhoop
Chilchilati sardi
Rahein hai khuli khuli
Aur mausum ne li karwatein


Appraisal ka tension
Workload ka burden
Rishtedaron ka waar
Fursat se bhare
lamhon ka hai ab intezaar


Kuch sacchi si baatein
Kuch random se shabd
Ye maine likhe hain
Main bhi hu stabdh

Tomorrow, when i would have gone a long way in life,
One day, I may, recall Today.

I would smile at my trials to sound intelligent,
"As if it was so necessary, silly me", I'd say to myself.
I would hate the way I snapped back at people and thought highly about myself
"So shallow, so false", I'll smirk.
I would reminisce about the times i spent dreaming of rose blooms
And inhale deeply trying to smell the magic,
Wishing it to be lingering still, somewhere in the corner of my minds.
I would mull over the chats and the pretty laughs,
The unmindful banter and nonchalant decisions.
I would love my life, still want to rewind,
and sigh at what i left back carelessly.
I would treasure the memories, with their scent and color et al.
And would go back into my shell when I want to relive them.

Thank God... There's time for tomorrow...

Color

Too often the only thing you see is everything you can't.
I can't decide whether I dread those days or miss them.

Gamo ki rehguzar par jab ashko ne bhi sath naa diya

Toh hum chal pare akele hi manzil ki talash mein

Aankh ki kor par boond maano latak kar reh gayi

Aur dheere dheere halat ki aandhi ne usey bhi sokh liya..

Noise all the way !!

Some people think I react unnecessary on small things , some people misunderstood me and some say I "SHOWOFF" too much...

Now what should I do in this matter ..This is the way I am !!!

If only I could describe the awkward state of mind I am in...

Of what is right and wrong for me, I was so sure… I don’t remember quite clearly when I lost my confidence in my decisions... my choices... Of doing something believing THIS is what it should be, albeit, later I might feel I could have done better at that. At least I used to be happy about the fact that at any point of time; I knew what I was doing. And why I was doing it.
Quite unlike what I am today… or should I say what I am in…

Haze. White and pure. Translucent and torturous. I blink at my future, which slyly smiles and dares me act. I wait patiently for the enigma to unfold.

Quagmire. Of unending doubts and confusion. Am too scared to tread the wrong path... too scared of facing dire repercussions. I don’t think I have the mettle to handle that anymore.

Stringed to fate. I pity at myself for my act of submission… to wait for the right time, to wait for the right thing to happen. To wait for anything to happen.

Envious. Of those who know what they are doing; they are all around me, moving on like automatons; with me standing at sidelines, searching for a hint to my life unknown.

Silent. Amidst the clash of rights and wrongs, amidst the din of my own thoughts.

Lost.

Because I don’t know whether the wait is worth it…

Because I don’t know what I am waiting for…


If only...