Sunday, December 1, 2013

afloat

And I float now like a seed 
with wings not knowing 
I carry a tree within.

I float now 
till I find 
that piece of earth 
to make my home, 
that drop of water 
to make me alive.


Saturday, November 23, 2013

building conversations

Yes, it's that time of the year.

i always wonder where the years go, where the moments go. do the things we think, we say, we do, the moments that we witness, the feelings that we feel get stored somewhere? are they basking in the sun, getting wet in the rains or are they wrapped up in a blanket in a warm corner in a winter night ? probably they are.

'cause they all come back, sometimes alone, sometimes in hordes to pay me a visit at this time of the year. I look at them all again and try to strike a conversation and i realise that's something i have lost this year. i can't make conversations anymore. They tire me and i don't feel the necessity of words. i look at the year gone by and i look at myself . A blur, of plastic smiles, of words that don't make any sense or moments that are as stretched too long. The emptiness within has grown into a chasm that devours every moment that passes by. 

i often sit in my room, looking out into the drizzle of bangalore through my window on the long nights that stretch into the morning and think about the emptiness. i think that maybe i could open a button in my heart, in my soul and stand in the same drizzle and it would fill me. such thoughts only fill the nights. 

i sometimes try to strike a conversation with a stranger on the street, with the bird that sometimes comes into my balcony, uninvited and sometimes with people who are supposed to be mine. it's a chore really. cause i have lost my words. what do i say really? i would rather listen. no one listens you know.  there are so many words spoken. the words go up, one on another. i think a bridge is being built. i look at the words, the construction with a cynical interest and then suddenly it comes crashing down. i am disappointed. i realise, bridges can't be built on bricks alone. the feeling that binds them together needs to have the right ingredients. i don't have them anymore. so i don't speak. i hear. i mostly hear the bridges breaking, but it is better than trying to make one of my own that i can't even lay a foundation for.

yes, the emptiness. it's teaching me things. to lay off the load. to be calm in the storm that rages outside every moment. life and death. being and un-being. non-negotiables in the negotiables. does it matter really in the end? the end of maya ? someone once said to me that the biggest challenge people face is to cut the chord, the umbilical attachment to things, to people. and i think about that. i think is it that difficult? i have lost what i never had. twice this year. it left me empty. and i think again. am i empty because i chose to be? maybe. but it did help me in a way. to cut the chord. of my attachment with many things. i still can't grieve. i laugh, i sing, i talk and after the role is played , i go back without the baggage of feeling, to my emptiness. it surrounds me protectively.sometimes, i look outside through it , i try to touch the laughter, to feel the tears maybe even anger, but i just don't. every person lives in their own cocoon, maybe of fear, of love, of anger, of satisfaction, of insecurity or security. maybe, to find the real person is not that difficult. all you need to do is to break your own cocoon , break the other person's and then begin. but it is a task and i don't enjoy it now. so i let the words be. let them rest a while and grow stronger. maybe someday i will find the ingredients and the right design for a conversation. till then i am happy to be numb.    


Thursday, May 16, 2013

Saying good bye?

we did not know
that you would come knocking
we didn't expect you so soon

you know we had been thinking
we had been dreaming
silently , in our hearts
that you would come
that it was time that you came

but no, we didn't expect you so soon

and you arrived
a surprise
we were scared
unprepared

but you saw the happiness
you saw the glow
the blessings
the little worries
of your ma and pa
of grand moms and grand dads
of uncles and aunts
of the great grand dad and great grand moms
and everyone who knew you had come

but love, the promise was to stay forever
we were preparing the welcome
and you said goodbye

the noises of preparation
of you arrival
are now silent
no words fill up the void
we try to forget that you were there
but it isn't easy love

carelessly some words slip out
and then there are no words
the silent questions
of things we didn't do right

there is nothing now
but an emptiness
empty womb where you were
empty hearts, empty minds

we need to grieve now
and we do not know how

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Resonance

walking the distance between silence and noise
holding the railings of memories
i jump over the pits and sometimes fall

the memory of a small baby's toothless laugh
untouched by the expectations
the same baby's breathless cries
so true that i shut my eyes

i sail to the sound
of an adult mirthless laughter
and the tear-less cry
the difference i hold in my hands

i traverse the road to a conversation
that i had with someone is my mind
it was beautiful, i played both parts
in that conversation in my mind

i see it stayed there, comfortable
as if afraid to come out of the lips

and then suddenly the silence speaks
so out of turn, so untrue
it rises and falls
like the ebb and the tide
sometimes it takes away
an expectation from the shore
bringing joy to the waiting spectator
and sometime it washes away
the writing on the sand
that was expected to last forever

a little way ahead,
in between my journey
the words are spoken
a memory is broken
falling from my hands
crashing down like a glass
creating a noise of  thick silence
of should have beens
and could have beens

and it resonates again
between the past and future
between one memory and another
that it is not the silence
it is not the words
but when the silence
and when the words

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Benga'lured

Yes, i'm getting lured to namma bengaluru.

While in mumbai, we were discussing various options of places we could move to. Of all places we had an option to go to, we wanted to chose a place that would give us both some time . The last three years have passed us by in a whirlwind, mostly without each other. We've stolen moments from the craziness. Bengaluru seemed very exciting. New land, somewhere neither of us had stayed for long, a completely different language that will take some time to learn, new work, coming away from our comfort zones we had created. We didn't know what to expect and that itself was exciting. 

The beginnings weren't auspicious. but not bad either. We lost some things and we found them. The city gave us a difficult and cold welcome. But then gradually it's warmed our hearts. 


I have time in my hands now, so i cook every day..I experiment cuisines , something i couldn't do in mumbai and absolutely enjoy. I love spending time at home, a place that feels like home already. Even when we found the completely empty house , we both liked from the moment we set eyes on it. Now, bit by bit, we're setting up our little corners, comfort zones. On a completely different note, i practically have spent my first four weekends looking for furniture and can proudly boast of knowing the make, design and prices for every furniture store. Call it beginners luck, i have gotten one of the best deals in town. 




I love the morning jog .I love the evening walk.  I love the greenery. I love getting lost in the lanes and have no purpose to find anything or anyone. I love it when the dogs know me already and wag their tails and the proud owners nod and smile.  I love reading "the hindu". I love the south indian fare everywhere. And i have found a perfect place for amazing gupchup, something i missed in mumbai badly. And he gives me an awesome smile and extra sukha pooris in the end. No one will understand the bliss except a true gupchup connoisseur. I love learning the new words and feel delighted on getting the words right. I love buying vegetables, fresh from the streets. 

And most importantly i feel good. The restlessness, lack of purpose, disillusionment is moving into the background for now. Even though the workload keeps increasing,  there's an excitement of doing new things. I cant decide if it is the city, the weather or just the decision to reclaim my life. The feeling of claustrophobia, of living on the edges is gradually fading. And we both are making time to have great conversations, the long drawn debates, crosswords, reading poetry and books together. Just makes me realise how much the witch took from both of us.  Also there are certain components that i absolutely do not miss. Just can't talk about those in a public forum. Let's call them Bombs of Mumbai (BOM). Dears BOMs, i did not realise how much of my energy and time was being leeched because of the unnecessary discussions, expectations. Also, the self blame and corresponding guilt to measure up to unrealistic expectations was so very unwarranted. i miss the energy of the city sometimes, but only tiny winy some times. The rest of the time, i'm still revelling walking the streets of the new city.

We both are nomads at heart, so we know no place will hold us charmed for long. Even the most perfect place will loose it's sheen in a while, not because there's anything wrong with the place but because the restlessness will seep in, the wanderlust will begin, the feet will itch to go to another place.

But for now, this feels like home.

Except the autowallahs, who literally give people nightmares,as of now,this is the perfect city . 

Nanu bengaluru pritisuttene. 

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Tipping point?

The earth is round you see,
There is no tipping point.

you walk to what you think is the horizon
and then it's a race to the other one

It never ends, the cycle

You start something new
It becomes old
and then you do it in a new way
or start something new

you think you've reached
the limits of disintegration
and suddenly you're whole
with new depth, new height

We were someone once
today we are someone else
some days we find the one
we lost in the many ones

the world will end some day
and then there will be another
there is no tipping point
no end

only beginnings, of another cycle
another life
another journey