ESCAPING THE REAL

I was sitting on a ledge, pointed like a nose, and covered with grasses; tall, green and dry. The huge banyan tree nearby, standing tall on that narrow piece of land, gave it a creepy look. No wonder, not many people went there. And there I was, sitting with my face down, mocking the beautiful February afternoon with my tears. I was sad, a broken heart was all I possessed and a remorseful I had already decided that I should die. The sky was bright blue with a little hint of clouds, the breeze blew calm, and flowers blossomed nearby-everything that would have normally made any person happy. However, deep in my heart, nothing could make me happy. I felt my end was near; I wish it was!

I sat there for quite some time, maybe hours, until I was startled by a hand on my shoulders. Surprised, I turned around to find a stranger standing before me. I somehow hated him at that instant only, maybe because I knew he would show some pity on me, the very last thing I wanted. Instead, he was calm and to my utter dismay, he ordered,” You want to die? Go and die, do it. You don’t deserve life if you can’t value it.” Confused, I sat there, doing nothing. I felt embarrassed by my stupidity. Thereafter, he was kind to me and I cried my heart out, in anguish. Tears washed away my agony, brought back my sweet innocence. Then and there only, he promised, to accompany me in every moment of joy and sorrows alike. I was elated; nobody had ever showered such kindness and love upon me.

Since then, he had there for me each moment as I carefully treaded the steps of time. Soon, acquaintance gave way to friendship, a close one; he seemed the world of my broken dreams. So many beautiful evenings lost their count in our never-ending talks; my songs blended in his tunes to create the music of love. Everything seemed perfect, and complete; I was happy.

It had been nearly a month of our first meeting, when we both decided to visit the ledge, again.

Somehow, unconsciously we hadn’t mentioned anything about the ledge till then. As we reached there, I saw a young woman, almost my age. She was sitting exactly at the same place and with the same posture and state, as I was once in. I stood there for some time, dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. He asked me to go and talk to her. I did as he said. The woman too cried her heart out in pain. I tried to heal the last shreds of my broken heart by trying to heal hers. My past, the doors to which I had once closed, came flashing back all at once, and we shared our grief. I looked behind for him, but he was gone. I searched, but he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had fulfilled his need, his destiny, and now it was time to fulfill mine. I looked towards the woman; she unconsciously walked towards the edge of the ledge, and in front of my eyes, jumped down. I could feel the sea waves raging below to take her in its arms. I could see the journey till death and the calm and peace that surrounds it. Soon, I realized the woman was none other than me. I had ceased to exist back then, if not for him. Death invited me as I could feel his absence, for he was just a dream I dreamt for some time, on my last day on earth.

Tezaswita

TWO SOULMATES AND A WINTER EVENING

Sitting cross-legged on the terrace floor

Leaning on the half-wall

Staring at the evening stars

With my dearest friend,

I spent a dreamy evening.

As the hues of twilight

Slept on us,

Our hearts cried as we smiled

And talked about our dreary lives.

Forgetting every bad dream

We felt each other’s words

Talked to our heart’s content

Fulfilling our empty souls.

Long talks we had

On angels and witches,

Love and longing,

Hatred and mood swings.

We sat there, talking.

Letting our bleak present go away,

Munching crispy ‘kurkures’

We sat there, talking.

Stars shimmered above us

Moonbeams kissed us

And we shivered

In the cold winter night.

The mist enveloping us,

We felt our third eyes

Analyzed dreams,

Understood visions

And finding their meanings

Left the terrace happily

Feeling honey-sweet inside;

Forgetting that another dark night

Would be awaiting us.

A WINTRY MYSTERY

Down the mountains, after nightfall

Mystical the air feels,

The trees let their remaining foliage

ruffle in the wind

As it turns darker.

A voice is always heard,

A staccato singing

And very sweet

Soft, mellifluous, but

flows monotonously, as if

Speaking of her own untimely death

To her lover—still alive.

In this ghostly milieu,

Flickers a feeble gleam

In the dead of the night

But the next morn, you see

Nothing unusual, everything fine.

Conifers down the hills,

Wild flowers fragrant and fresh,

Birdies flying high and the

Shepherd bringing sheep to graze.

But that midnight again

Appears the dim flickering light

And the maiden sings…

Winter ends, and also ends

The enigmatic air, but

Only till next winter!

A SOLITARY BROOK

enjoying nature's bounty I wrote it when I went to Bhutan for a picnic party :)

Amidst the boulders and trees,

The hillocks and hills

Flows a rill here and there

Whispering into my ears.

I sit here writing

With you in my mind

Watching the flowing stream

With a blossom sailing by.

Rushing through the rocks

With such a tremendous force,

Bubbling water to bubbles

The stream flows by.

Pebbles I see here, under the water

Crystal clear,

And to the green above,

Dense darks I can see

In the midst of blue hues

And grassy greens…

Beyond this greenery,

A black bird perches at a branch end,

On a tree with red blooms,

A tree with leaves very rare.

But suddenly, in the course of

the whistles of water,

The bird flies away,

High above the zenith

High above the clouds.

As I write, a robin flies over

the pebbles and water,

And as I look

He flies into the infinity.

I keep on writing

As you seem to be here,

I keep on writing because

To my soul, you are near.

Singing a chorus and

Making whistling whispers

with the pebbles and boulders

The solitary brook flows by.