Wish my love!

On a night as clear as tonight,

Under this spangled tapestry

Lying besides you,

Awash in all its moon lit glory

I wish you'd ask for the stars

Then I would borrow

and melt

Some of the radiance around

And bathe you in it.

But no beauty on earth

would match

The glint in my eyes

That's come to be forever

Each time there's a smile

On your lips and

that beautiful

face of yours all alight.

Just as my heart soars

at the sight of you.

Wish my love

For all our dreams to take flight.

I wish you ask for a song

Then I would make you an anklet

Of stolen sounds from

The rustling of leaves

And swish of the wind chimes

That breaks through this quiet.

I would read the words

On your lips, in your eyes,

Unspoken. Unsaid.

And all that is my heart

Whispering them softly

to you as you hum along.

Just as the each dying star

bring with it a little faith.

Wish my love

For us to forever,

in one another, belong.

I wish I had died because

Then it indeed would mean

I was in heaven.

Where else would an angel have

sought my hands, entwined,

as we walked on clouds.

I counted my blessings

On my fingers.

But my hands are full ,

with your love,

Nestled deep and tender

in the puddle of my palms.

Then there's you by

my side,inside.

And I counted eleven.

Just as I got my wish

Wish my love,

May all that your

Hearts's desire be granted.

Amen! Amen!

BlackOut Tales

The flicker caught my sleepy eye

half shut in the middle of a dream.

And I let a smile escape, a smug one,

as surreal as it may seem.

Like a happy child with

colored candies all licked,

lest you had to share and

a sound beating be risked.

And then the curve inverted

as the flame died.

The dying aroma 

of the scented candle

Lingering on,

in an abyss dark deep and wide.

Annoying,

like the ringing of an alarm

That's gone off,

just when your snooze

slid into deeper waters.

Bathed in serenity and

in the embrace of calm.

And the clock far enough,

out of reach

So you have to move an

inch onto colder sheets

When it has taken

all night of warming.

Like sand arts built

and swept off at the beach.

Now I wonder

of the rough territorial wars

That predators fight.

It's the sense of belonging and

what's yours

Not a question of might.

The want to keep it all

for yourself and to shield

wandering off will only

dilute the power you wield.

I won't light another match

And I sure as hell won't wake.

The buzzing suckers

can have a field day

I'll be the sloth and

won't even swat,

Those blood mongers can

Take the cherry

and while at it ,eat the cake.

I solemnly resolve to not

Relinquish .

My warm bed

And comfortably fluffy pillow.

A battle of will.

Even if it means my dreams are now

Black and white in the dark.

Like the night sky bereft of its moon

The hour is nearly up and

The power should be back.

Anytime.Soon.

I wish. I wish.

Rewind to Unwind: The magic of NOW

This was one of those moments that one wished stayed a little longer..like the lingering aroma from the emptied vase, like the crushed petals tucked away in between sheaves of paper..unread, unopened , layered thickly with dust. Until one day its chanced upon , drunk in nostalgia, delirious with yearning for times gone by, the mirror it holds reflect the memoir of our old selves.

You wished to live this moment a little longer, stretched to its capacity like the rubber band drawn with force in between those lithe fingers, unleashing harmless paper bits onto unsuspecting heads, now turning missile like, a weapon of choice, and upon the projectile finding its target -laughing uproariously.

One wished the moment remained as pure, drenched in innocence, dripping with simplicity like the time you saunter off at the beach like a million others, stooping to feel the lump beneath your feet and behold! An oyster. Pregnant with a pearl. The journey of a sand grain ending in your palms. The songs of the ocean humming in its shell. The tryst with a tempest etched in its designs. Held to light and marveled upon and maybe the resting on a slender ,delicate neck drawing admirations and envious looks alike.

Moments. The beholder of a story. A journey. A timeless tale. An epic. A tragedy. Of strings spun delicately, round and round into wondrous web , woven around a thought. Like the hands on the face of a clock awaiting it’s next tick , a story lurks just beneath each of these moments. A thousand words behind each curled lip as if waiting to be told.

So, what’s “special” in this godforsaken moment I am talking my head off about?

NOTHING.

This moment is just that…a moment of my life. Of a life well lived thus far. This moment is nothing out of ordinary than the next or the one that zipped by. Still it was a part of me. So , why does one pressure themselves into seeking that one special moment to do, to say or to celebrate? Why not NOW? What’s’ wrong with now? Too ordinary for your liking? Why obsess with something that’s yet to come?

If ‘feel’ had a reverse osmosis of its own , would it then rid one of all which feels bad and wrong? And leave us with just those wanting to be relived and rejoiced.

Like in movies, the excruciating and agonizing times when the giant pendulum is swinging between life and death, the protagonist before slipping away in an endless sleep experiences a slideshow of his life that’s melting away before he can reach it.

Now that I think of it I don’t know if such a .ppt session appeals to my mojo (considering I will be dead after that) , still, I would want to bell that cat in the bag and would want enough Kodak moments to feature in the ppt, if only to know which ones made the cut. After all, I am the director of my life. Surely, I get to wield the edit scissors in my very personal documentary. Right?

Instead of mopping around waiting for the day iPhone10 whips up inter galactic frenzy or when chips implanted in human brains emulate the workings of your own brain plus control those of others I would rather seek comfort in a happy today i.e. soon to be past tomorrow. I am tired of a world turning increasingly futuristic. And I am tired of the world which clamors on about doomsday and then is dismissive of it too, just like everything else. Too quick to write off. Too quick to let go. Too quick to replace.. Newer. Better. Faster. Smarter.

Frankly, me thinks the world is going the Benjamin Button way. Regressing.

The fastest of jets beating velocity of light and sound maybe. That won’t be of much use , would it , when the rivers run dry and oceans flood main lands?

Right now, in your head I am probably being categorized as ‘pessimist’, ‘escapist’ or some random adjective from that ilk. Or is it that you are far too creative, hyperactive, restless and eagerly anticipative of the next moment for my types.

While the NOW will soon be a thing of past, you NEW will just as well. Funny how a single vowel can bridge the vastness that lies between these extremes. So maybe it wouldn’t hurt to pause the constant ff mode and rewind. Will you make the time for it NOW? Maybe then you could discover color of water, sights of the winds, tastes of the flowers and smells of dreams.

In the name of Valentine

It’s the time of the year,

Yet again.

Anticipated, indulgent

Longed or unrequited.

The very air’s breath

Smell of romance.

Love lost, love gained

Like a game it may sound,

 but for the

finder it’s a keeper.

The seeker of purest

intent wins

this game of chance.

 Like they prophesize and preach

That a heart’s one wish

- truest and deepest-

Is granted by the forces inside

and around the expanse.

Maybe one will be forgiven to

Not be in love and still be in love

With the idea of romance.

Flirtatious courting,

Crinkling laughter aside

the magic is spun

behind fluttering lashes,

and awkward, stolen glance.

While winter withers away

and spring engulfs us in its

warm embrace

May even the most stoic of heart

feel the urge to dress up

And while at it

do a little dance.

For once, ditch the cynicism

that exaggerated and glitzy

Modern day affection feed.

Let go the control you so love

To lord over life.

Let it run a course,

Uninhibited, unbridled,

And not shy away from aches

They shall undoubtedly breed.

Let the magic wash you over

And fate conspire

To unite two souls

A silent cheer to the

Cause of valentine

and the spirit of romance.

So, are you ready to give

love a chance?

And ask in earnest,

Will you be mine?

Tiebreaker

The way you make me feel

The very words epitomize

What its said ” love” is.

Words that make jelly of knees,

starry eyed and the head reel.

Oh! The way you make me feel.

Feminine? Virile?

Sensuous? Strong?

Blind? Deaf? Or plainly dumb?

If you need a guise 

of dressy words

To explain what love is,

you couldn’t be more wrong.

Silence was never

So invitingly crushing

That it made my heart

let out a delightful squeal.

Oh! The way you make me feel.

You charm. You bait.

The surreptious glance.

The relaxed lean.

The swagger in your gait.

I am half full,

any which way I look,

Other half of you

Is a freaking good deal.

Oh! The way you make me feel.

You can chew all of your lip

To hide that grin,

Smug in thinking you won.

Its better to have

won your heart,

and love for as long

as I live under the sun.

“I do” will wait until

you tire of mind games and kneel.

Now, that’s exactly how I feel.

It rained this new year eve. And I was amused that we are pampered with varying weathers this part of the continent and more so in Bangalore. Even my moods don't oscillate as much as the climate here considering I am a cancerian ( not that I believe in voodoo -pro astrology junta ,sorry , no offense - but Linda Goodman has millions of her readers convinced that she can box up traits,label them and then with dressy words tell you who you are than you will ever discover on your own about yourself.)

Tch Tch .. I digress..... It was the other side of the day, sunny side up when I got on phone with a friend who was back from to work after vacations and was predictably morose at the prospect of PGcoming. Yes, I know PG is home too. She was being snappy, moody as only girls can be at times so much so you wanna strangle them, but then I am often  told I could lift up anyone's spirits, so I put that gift to use. Only this time my friend teared up..while I embarrassingly waited for her to calm up. Perfunctory goodbyes later I hung up wondering if my talent was jinxed after all . I called her later in the day and surprisingly she was cheery and all lit up. She said she was glad she cried and all that howling had helped her find a release. And then all was well. On my way back home it was drizzling. It somehow seemed as if the heavens needed the release too, Cyclone Thane or not. Rain god was partying it up I guess.

And it poured.

As abrupt.

Needlessly

Unrelenting.

Till the last of drop

Dried of her lips.

Slipping onto

The parched soil

Now puddled mire.

And the sun scorched

Back, the air

Pregnant with moisture

Until she no more could hold

And it poured.

And it poured

As abrupt,

disturbingly

maddening at

the moment.

Till the last of drop

dried of the cheeks

wetting the palms.

A release, like

the leaving breath,

in rescue of a troubled mind

and a tumultuous heart.

To lay bare a soul

To soak up as much joy

As one can behold

And it poured.

Voice of silence

Until recently the tragedy that came in wake of Tsunami were memories from the distant past. 
The papers carried an article about a family that was reunited with its daughter after years of the destruction that Tsunami left behind. In the same breath I also read an article by Radha Krishnan on carbon footprint (refer to Deccan Chronicle 28th Dec 2011).The
article outlined a Danish firm's attempt to foray into the Indian retailing scenario in the late 90's. Per a survey amongst European nations stated therein, sale of cold food/beverages remained consistent through the year irrespective of seasons as their homes, offices and even cars are designed to maintain and regulate temperatures. Subsequently discussed was the carbon footprints these nations were leaving behind and India accounting for 5% of the planets harmful emissions.(We come in 5th).
Whilst composing the verses below, following the natural train of thoughts under the given context I couldn't help but rue that freebies go unappreciated and are taken for granted. Case in point. Our planet. Given to much abuse and misuse in the hands of mankind, under the guise of infrastructural and industrial development, nature's wrath is but our's for the asking ( actually, not asking).

The seas did not flood.

Only the sobs drowned

under the crashing waves.

She cried, relentlessly

even as she choked

and was yanked

smothered and mocked.

Yet she bore,

the burden of your weight,

silent and strong in distress

Yet nothing she gave,

you took,

sufficed to sate.

You wrecked her

till she lay barren.

Till there was pain and death

and now that her tears so freely flow

Oh! do you blame enough and how!!

But you never did pay any heed

Could you ever see beyond your need.

Does the price still seem worth?

Worth the greens and the blood?

The seas did not flood.

Only now does she bitterly weep

She was here,always,for you.

A gift, a blessing,

unconditional and kind

A love for you to keep.