nothing really new

A LONELY HOUSE… WINDOWS ACHE SO I WAIT FOR YOU LIKE A LONELY HOUSE TILL YOU SEE ME AGAIN AND LIVE IN ME TILL THEN MY WINDOWS ACHE -Pablo Neruda He came yesterday. Like every other day he said he is occupied but yet he will make time. He is writing, thinking, “being” what he is all the time: different person at different times of the day like the waning and the waxing of moon. He said, he was thinking now that he needed a break. And he thought of her; the punishment of silence he proclaimed on her. That was four days back. He decided to never tell her that he hated her or being a spoil-sport, a cold blooded reptile in the shoddy light of the prying moon under the canopy of trees. He was surprised to see her fangs unwarned, poisonous and dark. If he could ask her may be she would have told him how its not really her fault. She turns into a mirror at times, inadvertently, and reflects her surroundings. Soulless and inert, just a reflector, like the mo

A poem called DESIRE: shorter version He knew he could never hold her For his hands were her fuel Her eendhan in Hindi if he ever dared to touch she would disappear in a flicker consumed by the thousand flames of their tumultuous desire. She too knew, on him, she could never abut For he once warned, one sunny morn How he would for forever escape her invisible hands grasp vanish into thin air like a wasp becoming immortal if their bodies Were together ever cast How she wished For him to be her mortar And longed to be his pestle Touching each other all the time Grinding their insides On the pretext that work came by in the dark corners of an empty kitchen always alone and piled up on top of each other a couple together meant to be A must be: a silent conspiracy. Like the phone that loses power and yearns for that which lies outside, its charger Distant, disconnected Yet essential for the survival: Of its lifeless body dear, She too longs for her co-conspirator her artful, c

She and he: “two fish swimming in a fishbowl” We are not going Anywhere Hide and seek is the game our eyes play every-time they meet throbbing veins pulsating strange yet familiar feelings Floating gazes caressing faces whispering pregnant promises Breathing life into a body of Star Dust and Ashes Crowded room lonely lovers simmering odds of light or gloom dark silouettes hushed songs cascading shadows righting wrongs crafting banter fighting gloom weaving life hiding n rooms Two travelers One story One loom tying together stories old N’ new, Of mighty colours And myraid hues Silent embraces Parting gazes gifting solaces Matching paces Tiring goals Sickening routines Drains dreams from Tired vacant faces Kisses wrapped back Tightly pressed in rest Lips un-parted For everyones best His whims her ornaments Her wounds his prizes forgetting falls remembering rises Bruises galore Breaking walls Melting core Vows/Promises Unasked, unsaid, unkept At reality qu