Monday, January 23, 2012

Creator


I walk down streets empty of voices
Where thoughts fear being trampled upon
The day slips quietly past noisy traffic
Into shady side lanes where inspiration dies
And I walk past them all
Past them towards the sun
Burning red, orange bright
Burning like my own soul’s light
Shining over a dipping horizon
Warning about the coming morn
I shall walk into that dawn tomorrow
Light up the darkness with my words
When souls shall die and voices with them
These shall light up the world
Each word a sentence
Each sentence a soul
Each soul transforming
Out of nothing
Into the whole
Into that silent dawn shall I wake
Where nothing remains and everything paused
I shall be and shall create
The word that starts it all
I am the fire
I am the fear
I am the word
I am GOD.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Bury it...

Crying childImage by Creative Donkey via Flickr

Empty faces empty thoughts
Flit across the distance of my mind
When pain reduces but shines across
The greying landscapes of fading sunshine;
When swallows of spit get stuck
In the back end of your throat,
As memories come flooding past
The last happy anecdote,
When tears struggle to be contained
At the edge of your eyes
All you can do is stare at space
And try not to cry.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Sunday, January 08, 2012

Wasted

Mr Charles - When the smoke is going downImage by Laurent Lavì Lazzeresky via Flickr

Its my third shot of rum. The burn has just hit the spot. I do not usually drink after work. I do not usually drink alone in the evening. I am not Bogart. Then why am i here? At the strike of 8? I don't know. I felt like it. The waiter brings me another plate of groundnuts. I am getting late. But I can’t help it. I am in no hurry to get home. Sometimes you just want time to slow down and let you pause at the doorstep. Everything within this small, tiny room is smoky, dull, lazed and in limbo from the rest of the world.

The fan creaks to slow pauses. The street mellows down. The bus carries me and a dozen sleepwalking passengers to their destinations. I dream of streets empty of people, and me running through the wind. But I digress. I am just lost. I have friends that are getting married. I have friends who know what they want in life. And then there’s me. Lost, alone and absolutely confused. The inebriated condition makes no difference to my ability to judge life. Au contraire, it helps by clearing my mind. But what do I know? I am a confused, half educated drunk.

My stick lands with a fizz in the gutter water. I can still smell the last wisps of the smoke passing. I have a job. I have enough money in the bank. I have a family that loves me, friends who won’t kick my ass. But there is still something I lack. Something that I can’t find. It feels like a vaccum within me and I can’t fix it.

I wake up and go to work everyday. I try to smile and laugh through the day and get back home. Sometimes through the traffic I sleep. Sometimes I sleepwalk all the way back from work. The day passes through me like a daze. No, I don’t hate my job. I just don’t love it enough.

I am calling out to something somewhere that won’t return. I am hoping someone listens. I have no idea of where I am headed and how. I just know I am on the move. It is like being trapped in a mass of people headed in a direction towards something you can’t see. I am just moving. I want to stop, but I can’t. So I light another one and sing along with the radio

Tere bina zindagi se koi shikwa to nahi
Tere bina zindagi bhi lekin zindagi to nahi.