Magic

Under a pearl studded sky and a purple moon, they sat, wrapped around each other as if two recidivists clinging onto the only thing they had ever managed to steal. The reticent lake had never witnessed something so placid. The dew laden night flowers blushed with envy for they knew no neologies. Cession had a new meaning. The dark night watched as they poured more caresses.

My gleaming eye in her necklace reflected a stare of primal regret. My magic never worked on her. His did!

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Woke up this morning with a red eye. Rubbed it more, like I always do. My fav kurta is not ironed. Will be late again!!

Skipped breakfast too! How mom wakes up in the morning to prepare all that for me is a fact I take for granted. Reminds me of the days when I used to get up at 2.00 am to chew salted groundnuts for dinner with a bottle of fanta. Everyone at Domino's knew me, be it for the trademark 10 rupee tip to the delivery boy or my phone number & address that they knew verbatim. That used up scooter which took me places in search of a decent eating joint only to stop at the dhaba next to the Bus Terminal where roadways bus drivers and conductors used to eat. A few constables could always be found yelling in their familiar Punjabi accent. The only place in jalandhar where you could get a 'tawe di roti.'

It's dull in the office. Bright colours but a gloomy environment. Same worn out faces in front of their bright computer screens. I never used to be an indoor person, but somehow, time managed to change that. It’s fun reminiscing all the bygones. Not always though.

So, there's too much going on in her life right now! What is too much? How do you quantify it? How does that make any difference? Or does it change the way I look at her? But why would I..look at her? Or change my way? She's fond of me. No, she isn't.

Atonal Tapestry

Endless prints on my skin
just like patterns on the ivy
unbridled at dusk
adorning the threads of my silken dreams
cradled in the arms of pearly hope
breathing my velvet vapours
beneath an erroneous sun
that dressed me up to paint me down
a naked gem art me
with a crooked mile to walk through red september
watch over my turquoise sky and orange birds, please!

Wing

The bright flower-print frock

Was wrapped and kept behind two wooden doors

She would open them every now and then

Stand in front of her mirror

Trying to shrink herself to its size

Her reflection smiling back to her

She flew with the breeze back then

Just like a candid butterfly

With wings of gold and an eternity to explore

Through a pair of sparkling watchful eyes

The dusk would rest in her bed

And the dawn would wake with her.

In the same flower print and long wavy hair

With her fragile self spread across her soft bed

With legs crossed and some pulp to engrave

She longs for just one more chance

Her little hands and vast blue sky

Another flight, and one more wing.

Mist

Beneath the Cedar's stare
stands the darkest hour
watching the bruised moon in silence
with jade woodland eyes
enrobed in the blackest velvet
she pours the meads of asphodel
and the invigorated skies weep with new-found life.

Suffused with deep colours of life
with no beginning and no end
her lips tremble to the first sip
from the rented porcelain
to forget and forgive
crisp leaves and ebony sing with her
the dissonant requiems of fainted hope

As the dawn descends
she lays on the silent earth
when the wind calls out her name
the daughter of disenchant
besieged in her fated marbled stone
waves goodbye to her red roses
and to her mist that stands guard.

Infidelity

Sat on the slippery rock and looked at the highs and lows of the eternal blue, pinioned, as if two lovers sharing their breath like a meal. The wet sand under my feet wanted me to stay. I took her hand and she taught me how to walk through her invitation. Her soft hands rested on my chest searching for all they could get. I closed my eyes and sank into her. Caressed her face and ran my fingers through her hair. We kissed hungrily.

I turned around and looked at a chapter. Infidelity, I wrote..."you forgot the black top that brought you to her", she said.

Fear

I sat on the rusted bench next to the bright yellow board with black paint, declaring its presence to me, asking me to look at it. I gazed at the wooden planks that bore the signs of punishment. They wanted to move, but they couldn't. Nearby, I could hear a tap coming to life after a few choked coughs. I licked my dry lips as I stood up and walked towards it. That's when I saw her. Three benches away, in the distance,Tall, slender. She held a small bag tightly to her chest, clenching it harder than a mother would've held her newborn. I watched in silence as she rested her chin on it. I forgot my thirst, for water couldn't quench it anymore. I decided to check out the books at the stall just to take a closer look at her. The floor where her feet graced the earth was wet with drops of water, yes, the salty one. I looked at her skin for scars of life. She had been beaten, said her nape to me. I slowly walked towards her and stood by her side. Her blank wide eyes stared at the 2 rails separated by rocks. Before I could speak, she turned to me and said "I fear reaching late just like u fear reaching early. I fear the gap between the train and the platform."

Naked

[The Curse of Unrest]

My finitudes basked in vast eclipse
bejeweled and well lit as the seed passed her fruitful lips
the restless skies were witness to her soft parade
of eyes shut tight and fingers coming to grips
drenched we were in red wine
with her blood red ones on mine

[Umbra]

An age of innocence in sombre velvet of bliss
a look that shot through the hay and the heavens amiss
every breath snatched between the death of birth
perched atop the fields of carnal abyss
stood the faded mist and flowers so jaded
Born was she, yet I was so naked.

Twist

Turquoise moon
Stain my ivy leaves
Hold thy seven autumns and my widow
Your wolves silent among my sheep

I am he that vanquished semblance
arousing spectres of forgotten portraits
Dance with my pale red statues
rest your dry eyes on my wet plate

"Smile with me,my pungent jasmine"
through cobwebbed drapery where I swoon
Weave me a twist that drenches my shores
under the horned diana, I dwell.

Rain

Through the shades of grey and white
watches a shadowed dimension so plush
that stirs the leaves of poetic solace
and whispers a verse to the robes of dust
Stigmata still stains her cheeks
atop the parapets where lonely she sits
naked,she sways to the feather's fall
in an overthrow of the soft woven light
Small prisms, like a parting gift
sniff orchids that opened after dusk
feed on her wide spread grin and wait
for it's the fall of the uncaged