Bad Day

(Written October 4, 2011, 1:55 pm.)

I want to walk across the warzone
Separating your life and mine.
I'll face the bullets of distant memories
And walk over mines in the spots where we once stood together.
I want to walk into the enemy territory
Of your life
So I can let you back into mine.
I want to come unarmed
Because I'm having a bad day
And I want to be with you.

Patterns

(Written September 23, 2011, 3:17 am.)

The patterns of shadow on my ceiling conceal some hidden truth.

The day will come and wash it away.
The light will consume it, illegible, untraceable.

Then night will come again, with slightly different patterns.
And I will wonder if the truth has changed just a little.
Or if the Earth is just at a slightly different angle with the Sun, and the truth is just the same.

If I am the shadow that keeps shifting, and you are the truth concealed in me.

Moments

(Written September 23, 2011, 2:45 am.)

Do moments fade into the pores of skin?
Are all of ours in your bones?
Do they creak uncomfortably as you move?
Do they sit silent and heavy as stones?

Do moments get sucked in with every breath?
Are yours and mine in your chest?
Do they ache with every in and out?
Do they cause unexplained unrest?

Are moments of us hiding in you?
Are they tethered to your insides, oh -
Because I am left wondering,
Where exactly did the moments go?

Puzzle

(Written September 23, 2011, 2:40 am.)

Dice my body into thoughts I seek.
Rearrange them in the puzzle of your mind.
Show me the picture you see.

Untitled

(Written September 23, 2011, 2:30 am.)

Brush me with a stroke of your finger
And scatter me in the passing air.
Break my skin and drain me out,
Rain my pieces on some part of you.

Lie your lesser love down somewhere
And bid it your unfondest goodbye.
Spread me in a circle around you
On a cracked earth,
And watch me rise and fall
With the gravity of your lips.

Grip my merest substance.
Let it drop.
Feel its steady breath falter.

Feed me your bitterest truth
And watch me swallow.

Sthir Si Raat

(Written in September 2011.)

sthir si ek raat mein,
chanchal si ek yaad ne,
haath mera thaam ke,
atal si aavaaz mein
mujhe kaha:

tu yaheen pe theher,
main tehel ke aata hoon,
usko dhoondh laata hoon.

Dravid

(Written September 16, 2011, 12:35 pm.)

Behind the Little Master and Dada,
Stood the handsome gritty Indian wall,
His body adorning the strength of patience,
And his bat welcoming every ball.
Relentless and tall his stature stood,
His talent a relic of cricketing grace.
Today, forever, he leaves the one-day pitch,
With raised bat and serene face.