Dawn

Dawn flickers
High above the trees
As I stand from my window watching.
The air is heavy
With thunder and insects
The stillness is broken by the parakeets chirping.
The rain tree glistens
With last night’s downpour
Puddles abound in the potholes on the driveway.
A twig breaks
Sudden flapping of wings
Inches away from me I see a kite perching.
Craning its neck
It looks at me as if to inquire
What I’m doing when the neighborhood is still sleeping.
Stones crunching underfoot
As dogs go out on their morning walk
A frog splashes in the garden next door, croaking.
Soft summer clouds
Throng the sky like magnolia flowers
The tea grows cold as I stand, reflecting.
Unending thoughts, staring
At the scar on my hand while gladness
For April showers ripples down to my toes, my senses flooding.

Posted in april, Birds, Daily Life, Emotions, Experiences, garden, Life, Musings, poem, Poetry, Random Thoughts, Reflections, Rumination, Seasons, summer, Thoughts, Thunder | Leave a comment

On Days Like These

The oppressive summer wraps its heat
around me with its tenacious tentacles.
It chokes me with a blanket
till I struggle to break for air.
She reminds me a bit of
how Love can be sometimes.
It is supposedly beautiful.
but, mostly Love is jaded.
Weighing on the senses,
rambling on like a broken record
while the music has long
stopped making any sense.
Like a faded sign post that
often survives thundering hurricanes
Love stands bent and battered,
yet, holds up incessantly
against the onslaught of the world.
Sometimes love is like a fallen star,
streaking the horizon before burning
to a shade of its former specter.
Constant and adamant in her chasing,
Love is like a tigress stalking
every chance to prey and devour
when and who she wants, leaving the
leftovers for the hyenas to pick on.
Like a crocodile, never satiated,
Love is always looking for a snack,
even when it pretends to doze in the sun.
Once in a while though I wonder whether
I have really met Love yet.
Am I still searching the wrong corridors
Of an old museum trying to find the
right section of erotology,
while history tries to drown me with a
sense of overwhelming and misplaced anthropology.
On days like these, I wonder what Love really is.

Posted in Daily Life, Emotions, Experiences, Life, longing, Love, melancholy, Memories, Musings, My Life, poem, Poetry, Random pieces of Moi, Random Thoughts, Reflections, Relationships, Rumination, Thoughts | Leave a comment

Remembrance of Smells Past

Remnants of strong autoimmune pains from last night haunted me
As I hurried to cover the lateness to work this morning.
Absent-minded and dragging my feet through the chaos,
I reached out to grab a bottle Of an old perfume
That sat on the dresser, unused and discolored for years.
I checked to see if it had wasted and, thought nothing more
As I sprayed a few bursts of it to envelop me.
Out of the blue, like a muscle reflex, the smell jerked
A memory nerve, transporting me back to that
Gorgeous summer afternoon, years ago in another land.
He had reached across the car to inhale and murmur, ‘Divine’.
I had laughed it off with the wind, sweeping my hair aside,
And went on with the day without paying further heed to it.
It had been a momentous day, when much that I valued was lost.
Why then, I wonder, was I reminded of that smell today?
If Memory were a person, I think it would be cold, strange and random.
It would use every situation to make itself smell better than it does.
Why does it remember certain things beyond their stipulated expiry date?
What is it that triggers it to forget other more valid details?
Cursorily I wonder if I still have some unfinished business with my past.
Is this the Universe’s way of gently reminding me to look back?
Or, is this just a reminder of lessons learnt, and not to be repeated?
I had forgotten that this perfume used to be my favorite savior for drab days.
Perhaps, I valued it more then because he had gifted it to me.
But with the change of season and the friendship falling out, we moved on.
On a whim and a rage, I had thrown out the bottle.
In my naivety I had thought that I would forget
The smell of the baby if I threw it out with the bath water.
Over time, the only thing I remembered of those years was this smell.
Much later, I went and gifted myself another bottle of the same,
Because the smell lingered creating an identity of its own.
It was strange, because I definitely did not want to go back in time.
And, much to my surprise, I did not even remember those years past a point.
I told myself, perhaps, I missed the place I had lived in,
Or, the people who had made me feel so young and alive.
I rationalized that this was perhaps how youth smelt like.
Over the years, other smells overwhelmed and overtook me.
They found favor with my sensory nerves, leaving behind this bottle
To stand on my dresser as a mute spectator of the progression of life.
This morning however, made me realize that the past is never really gone.
It gets buried in some deep recess of one’s soul, beating its own drum
Like a second heart that gets fished out at the slightest provocation.
Memories eliminate the bad, and, magnify the good because on some days
One needs to hear how those years that made you who you are, were safe and good
Even if they weren’t, and that sadly is the burden of the past.

Posted in Daily Life, Emotions, Experiences, healing, longing, Love, melancholy, Memories, Musings, My Life, Nostalgia, poem, Poetry, Random Thoughts, Reflections, Relationships, Rumination, Seasons, Smell, summer, Thoughts, Youth | Leave a comment

Wintered

Super moon, said he.
And, I fished out one from
The book of fading memories
When the shine of love
Could outdo that of the moon
And, make a winter night
Bloom with summer stars.
But, I know better now,
And, I believe the moon is diseased,
And love is fickle, and,
The consistency of it, terrific.
People are wounded either
By love, or the lack of it.
There is so much loneliness
In the world today
That sometimes one feels most alone
Being right next to a loved one.
As I sit conversing
With my old friend, sorrow
I realize that it’s almost Christmas,
The poinsettias are dripping
Like hemorrhoids in the sun.
They remind me of beautiful,
yet, unhappy love affairs,
The tiny stories that make up
The bigger part of the Universe.
Outside the window, the last of autumn
Is trembling for your touch.
Soon winter will bury her
Song under a brown fog,
Reminding us that love finds
Every living being, but
Not everyone deserves to keep it.
And, so it loses itself
Much like the promises a man makes
In summer, that he feigns lost in winter.

Posted in Autumn, Daily Life, Emotions, Experiences, Fall, Love, Memories, Musings, My Life, Nostalgia, poem, Poetry, Random Thoughts, Reflections, Relationships, Seasons, summer, Winter | 2 Comments

Black Coffee Blues

Can’t make up my mind where to belong sometimes.
The ocean or the sky?
Land seems boring, and the question is often bigger than the answer.
Or, is it just black coffee blues on a long day into night?
Staring out of the window at a darkening Fall sky,
I wonder if unseasonal showers bring uncharacteristic thoughts.
The wind is going wild outside, and it blows straight through my heart
Swaying it like the neighboring palm trees,
Bending the branches, but not breaking,
Making the leaves cling to them as it sweeps through the old dust
Raking up visions of unexpected places, secret road maps,
Diagrams of old wounds on fading scars,
And ghost pains that seize me sometimes,
Letting me know that we hurt so that we can grow.
Something about forever always makes us
Cling like fuzz to fabric, making us forget
That the only guarantee we have is this moment.
Most of us realize too little too late
That sometimes the only way to live
Is to bleed, to ferment, to season.
That time pays a price that make memories slacken,
And one has to look within for healing to happen.

Posted in coffee, Daily Life, Emotions, Experiences, Fall, healing, Life, longing, Love, Memories, Musings, Nature, Nostalgia, poem, Poetry, rain, Random pieces of Moi, Random Thoughts, Relationships, Rumination, Seasons, storm, summer, Thoughts | Leave a comment

Longing

It is the season of a hundred flowers
And yet she turns thin and pale.
The cuckoo sings out a lusty song
Swinging from the branches of the rain tree
Whose leaves droop, portending showers.
Moving gently, she sighs like the breeze,
Her heart heavy with love,
Much like the hair that flows down her back,
Like a creeper that resembles rain-charged clouds.
The lingering smell of frangipani is so seductive
That her memories are overwhelmed and pulverized
In an instant in to fragrant dust.
The sun sets indifferently,
Making her acutely aware of her distant love.
Strong winds and an intense darkness,
She tosses and turns restlessly in her bed.
Day after day, she lies awake and gasps with longing
Like a swallow waiting for her mate.
Wounded, she curses the wind for ravaging her garden
Wishing instead that autumn would come quickly
And dull the pain that comes from burying a love
Under the burden of sheets and scruples.

Posted in Autumn, Daily Life, Emotions, Experiences, Life, longing, Love, Memories, Musings, My Life, Nostalgia, poem, Poetry, rain, Random pieces of Moi, Random Thoughts, Reflections, Relationships, Thoughts | Leave a comment

The Storm

Storm clouds crowd the twilight sky,
Making the horizon look like
An arched doorway to a land of the rain gods.

The trees bend low as the raging wind
Drags the branches to the ground
Without a straight intent.

The air is pregnant with
A whiff of dampness
Carrying in its wake a thunder squall.

I am reminded of childhood summers
Spent chasing nor’westerly storms
In hail drenched afternoons.

The storm in my head rages
With as much lust as the one outside
But I know that it can’t steal the peace that is in my heart.

The rain washed skies look a beatific blue
Reminding again that you’re never the same person
When you come out of a storm as the one that walked in.

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