Poetry

Its been waiting
shadow puppet strings,
its been waiting a long time
Eon flexing space,
gathering stardust
Oldest to young,

till space is no more a time,
no more a past,


only perfective..

written.

Tell me something my love,
Did you see the dew today?

lasted all morning in the leaves
of the bottle brush,

Nah, thought you wouldn't have.
You don't look
at all.

Did you see me smile at the dog,
the one outside your window,
white with splotched eyes
rabid, diseased?

no you wouldn't have.
You don't seem mad.
not one bit.

Today

The sun rose today,
and it set.

The wind whispered today
of rain and warmth, your warmth
and it died on me.

The sand shifted today,
slip tide rise of sorrow
and it sucked the world in.

Courage came calling
succour saviour sleep time muse,


It hasn't left
yet.

Breaking

The darkness creeps in
mist-silent, light-sharp.

Doors groan under its
unrelenting weight
bar bent iron
drumming slow tattoos of sorrow.

The jungle rushes in
Crushed velvet swathes
glinting in the black-bluing heaviness
Silent tide
rip
tide

over.

Dawn

It stops suddenly. All around you activity ceases. No sound of breathing, no whirr of some neighbour's creaky table fan. No recalcitrant child throwing tantrums outside your window. Even the computer has decided to show mercy on you and not gasp and moan as it prints out your documents for tomorrow's assignment.

The music swells slowly, sweetly. In your head at first, then gathering courage and painting sun patterns on the wall. Poorvikalyani soaring out to greet the dawn, shaking the sun out of its slumber. Stopping my heart with its haunting memories.

In gold and crimson tones the sun strides into my room and stops for those infinite minutes to listen. Just..listen.

The notes fade out as the raaagam decides to move on to someone else. Leaving me alone in a vacuum. Filled suddenly by the resumption of the whirr of the cranky fan, the screams of a colicky child and a groaning world embarking on an another day-chivvying me along.

Rain in a desert

I talked to him today. A random call; out of the blue. Very unexpected like a shower in the middle of the desert. Refreshing too, to be honest with someone. Is it easier being honest with someone you don't know all that well? I think I know him a bit better now. He's fascinating, strong, and reserved.

He keeps a lot bottled up. That is not a good thing. It can't be for someone who is so passionate about his life. Or maybe i'm just being presumptuous. I hope not. It's not nice to be presumptuous. It means one is impinging on someone else's integrity. THAT is not a nice thing to do.

I think integrity means a lot to him. It structures his life. I am not so sure about that myself. Yes I have to be true to who I am and what I do, but who am I and what am I supposed to do? if those questions remain fundamentally unanswerable where does integrity step in? Strange logic if I may say so myself.

He needs to be held. Close and compassionately. He feels compassion is a sign of weakness. I cannot think so. It means being vulnerable yes, but, it also means a certain strength of mind and heart that allow one to give unconditionally. Don't fight it when someone gives you the space in which to break down and cry. It gives you strength.

Don't fight the sharing someone offers you. It clears your mind, takes the weight off your chest. Don't be afraid to feel. It IS hard but it's worth it in the end. You atually see the world in technicolour..I can vouch for that. And to behold colour in this world is marvellous, a gift. Don't deny that gift. It comes with love.

Loving is not easy for you and me. It takes courage and the humility to take great pain and grief. But it's a kaleidoscope for us when we love and THAT makes all the difference in the world. No I will not be a single parent because of you. Because I have seen others like you, and I will not allow my children to suffer. Because I want to reach out and heal you.

Wounded man, at a cross road in life. Succour awaits.

The "Knot"ty Question of Marriage.

My mother was here, talking about marriage. For the first time in a long time, she seemed very insistent that I really think about marriage and getting married. It started me thinking( not something I have done for a long long time.)

What does it mean to get married? In a world of feviquik solutions, where divorce and estrangement are pretty much the norm, what has marriage come to mean? Who will I choose to spend the rest of my life with? and...why would I want to do something like that?

Is it to have children? To experience motherhood in all its glory and its frustrations? Is it to share a life with some one you trust? Is it because one is afraid of growing old alone, or growing apart from your partner? Is it because one wants a lifetime supply of free sex(no guarantee it's going to be good anyway)?

I can have children without getting married? Adopting a child is not such an issue anymore. Plus I don't think I would mind being a single mother! harrying yes, but still...I trust my parents and I have a lot of good friends who understand me and love me for who I am. Why then do I need to get married? I will not grow old alone because I know for a fact ( given the examples of my predecessors) that I will never lack for companionship. I like people too much. In anycase it is far more agreeable to me to have lots of people in my life rather than having to centre it around just one person.
Free sex? Yup can do. Not a problem.

Then why marriage? I have never been one to follow social convention blindly and I will not do so only to create havoc in my life.

I suppose I have too many expectations.

I can live with that.

Star

To touch a falling star, shrieking havoc
As it plunges through a fragile atmosphere
-keening, blazing, incandescently running amok,
Until, rending protesting oxygen, it falls clear-
Is suicide. Madness! Creates one helluva shock
It screams up your arm, your brain, fear
Fully yelling,"Duck you idiot! Duck!"

You dont, of course. It would be sheer
Stupidity on my part to think of you as wise
Woman you never care to look out
for yourself. It's become a game
Charades. Russian roulette cannot exercise
As much attraction as this, there's no doubt.
It's become your one way ticket to fame.