5/12/09

How strange it seems sometimes...
How very strange!

It's going to be his 92'nd birthday...in the next 24 hrs....and the past 24 years are pulling me under....beneath...underneath a pyramid of stars... into a chamber...thru' a tiny tunnel...a deep one...where the reverberations of a childhood sinks down..kneeling to the earth where he once stood..

He is so near ...then, why do they tell me, that I won't see him smiling with the brewing wake of the morn' ?
....and....I remember someone else's words too, today... of how he was giving a calculus exam when he heard of such news himself...and couldn't attend the last rites....and...I feel a crumble inside me....
There's a piece here....and one there...oh, one in that corner tooo...
 
Again words come back to me.... so many, so few all at once... "Aah, all I can do now, is fight...with nature...my surroundings, even the air maybe..." : he would have said...

An Iron Masked day grumbles in sleep...as I lay sleepless those wee hours of dawn...
Recollection retreats ....escaping into the arms of abstruse dominion...
A blanket of his arms tucks me in.... Yes, he's there... He's still there...right here....
Disappearance? 
Along with the melody?
His hum surrounds today, releasing me from this mantle of weariness...
Fatigue takes the form of incoherence....yet....it couldn't look more crystalline...
The clarity will stay with me....nostalgia will too...
His gaze in my eyes began the memories inside...and with each day, each li'l bundle of moments will encompass my whole world...my very own.. 


P.S. ~ Sudden flashes of Endymion's Dadu...that picture of Tua and him....
Strange! Just so strange!

The word ''strange'' is synonymous with me, today..

Sehnsucht..

Blades of grass,
Over the playful smoke;
Monotonous;
Ebbing a faraway shrill,
Winter-borne..

The endless blue above him..
Interrupting the barren white..
Sky;
Oh, an Empty sky..
Arched over,
The picture of a man..

Dismantled azure,
Moored by the river green..
and dust..
A tranquil gray..
She rode her little boat..
Listless crooning of moondrops..
Parting her Iris..
Swarming;
Ripples of remembrance..
In Snatches of his lyric.

In the End...

Haven't written past few months... refrained.. restrained... Guess it happens when one feels overwhelmed... esoteric..maybe…
Can't complain either... It was my decision… One always has a choice ..ahh, they do..

Ummmm…. Retrospection..? Oh, that strange diversion into a path of deflection.. which seems like a whirl of tiniest of mazes…..where nostalgia takes the form of deletions and absence…leading to a finale of "cantata de vie"…in its puppet dance…as the unfeeling ‘us’ waltz to it’s beats…callow…unprepared..

Hearing my voice feels strange now, remembering an odd room filled with laughter where I taught Monday last… or the choking words which still haven’t left my heart after I heard of stale death, which I would feel for the rest of my life…
A smile insulting my sullen lips remains…sobs don’t come anymore…sniffles desert..
Ironic!
They’d left me long ago…and suddenly as I type these words…that sketch..seeps in..

It was mine…in the eyes which taught me to see the world....
and..
..my abstract remains bleak and gives way..…
Because;
This time...The unconsoled stark chasm will stay.. in remembrance and my soul..forever..

TO MY GRANDFATHER....

Cataclysm...

The tree falls dead in the sometime around noon... perishing thoughts...of a deluge...

Ahh..the crawling time...which is fleeting now, feels eaten away... Numb leaves peek at the ground... overshadowed by the sky...
Roots imbibed soft bristles..sways... of a genial amour.. The chime of carillon, It felt, when the leaves spoke to each other...blushing in their whispers...

Relevance fades...disappears;

All that remains is the gusty wind...which turns back a leaflet or two...bringing to life a vignette....in it's indelible embrace...
And...
..the boughs surrender...to the caustic grains of scattered sand...stooping...never to rise again...

Curled..

Invisible..

Eclectic..

Long, long back, he told me that prosaic words sound better than poetic ones.. Prolly able to put forth a blended array of shades at the same time…

There maybe different skies in various contours…but the drifting clouds are the same ones.. in little words.. in a glance maybe ..or a breath? I speak to you, as I speak to my soul...in aparajita and anusua….and a world with tiny bundles of joys… Written across pages of my eyes…by this river.. by that sea…

In an ursine utopia,
Smothered in sweet lullabies,
Felt in songs past mid-night,
Touched in the gentle foray into the summer,
Trickled time..
Vagabond and slobbered..

~
Love,
Me..

Abysmal..

Along came a needless meaning of simplicity.. a well-thought spindle of ideas...which came undone...and I wrote in syllables, in which I sang once, remembering the odd, accidental fragments of rain and streams.... and Mahananda beckoned me this time, along with the emptiness of it's drenched bossom...where I lay, where I played, where I swam...As the July sun shivered, it's fervor bequeathed... I grasped the the jazz of the gleaming rays...hiding it in my eyes..

Hajar bolaka jeno pakha nare..
Duronto jhornar nrityo bahare..
Sagorer dheu aachhriye more..
Pathore Pathore..

Keu bole bhalobashe..
Aalingone..chumbone..
Podoseba shikto shinchone..

Ami boli..
Pathorer'o aachhe mon..
Aaghate na jani kokhon..
Premer porosh bojhe..
Shobujer aalogochhe..
Tobu rikto ekhon..

Soulstice..

There are times when the emptiness of stones comes as an irony... You suddenly begin to identify with it.
You start to perceive things closing in on the walls of your eyes....eyes which seek just one person... It's not always the need for a finger to hold and kiss..more so a faraway longing on the insides...within the soul...of a "soul"... Suddenly, things start to form a maze where you're lost yet found when the fingers curl in around you....when the soul sets inside you....and you regret no more.. Coz you don't have the fear if having let someone down...of having pained someone... No one needs someone...It's their affection that makes one long, perhaps...As I settle down into a dusty corner near an old table... My pen drips of blame... the detest one feels for one's self when they hurt their own soul...bruise it, maybe... I can't undo things... and my fingers come reeling back inside my heart..clenching...a palm faraway..

Midnight hues..

Every tender prism ..
Held in a droplet..
Swept in the fallen days...
Of fleeting sunflowers..
While there seemed diamonds everywhere...
Some strewn..
Some adorned...
Tumbling the torn corners...
Lighting up carmine percussion...
Streaming a maiden cruise..
Sliding into an Iris,
In a season of dreams...

This one's for Lorenzo..

Evanescence..

The pallid streets wet my burnt feet with fury.. Its yet another scarred morning... sun beams galloping to the far west...

There are sometimes when one feels like writing..words appear..disappear at the same time...Today...is one of those days..filled with blatant truths and naked lies...and magenta breeze wrenches her lips...sealing them...fastening their words..

and Suddenly..
She realises she sees herself in a soul.. Never felt that before...never felt so endearing...
She smiles..in a cell...solitary imaginations vanish...drizzling down in blankness.

The breeze blows still...
Flying towards the squalid nothingness...erupting on the sweat-ridden pedestrians..
This has been a second time since morn...
The first in a lifetime.

Me..

Showers seem easy sometimes..
Lachrymal less wasted..
less consumed maybe.. Is it the idea of numbness or is it just me...? Plain me? Facing myself after the longest time...and then there arrives the deepest fear..regardless of any syllables...punctuations and prolly silences too...


The fear of loss...

This time, I've lost..not the will to regain but the will to stare at anyone..a pedestrian...some odd cab or well...ummm even you...
I can't look anymore... The gaze cozily settles on the earthy delights...watching a bug creep into its burrow..
and I stay.....maybe out of disbelief.. maybe out of remembrance of destruction...Maybe...out of my love for him... Maybe its just me.. unable to speak..

Its true.. Its true indeed.
Words don't come easy...

Breeze..

This time;
The Waltz of rose-coloured winds...
Snuffed out,
Old rusted rays..
While;
Tufts of catkin bowed,
Murmuring to the willows..
Of the lost songs..
He smudged on her hips..
Searching;
For syllables..
..In the scent of her hair..
Lingering on his skin..
Gentle;
Like the first leaf..
Of Spring..

Horizons..

Reveries;
Of a snuggle into a palm,
Sweeping into the rivulets of fate,
A gaze..
At a tryst of sublime rainbows,
In a daze;
Of bubbles;
And swashes of amphetamine.

A Lily of the swindled waters..
Conquered;
By flames and trance..
With the softest bristle..
Of hymns of love..
Sung by a cradling tongue..
Nestled;
Against the rain-washed meadow..
Where the fragrance faded..
With the trembling petals..
Of naked silence..

Meandering time..

The resonance dissolved,
Into a distant carmine of Marlboro..
In Half-stolen touches..
When the nimble finger-tips,
Held it's unspoken daze..
In a fog of smoke,
Erupting out..
Of that Dum Dum Alley..
She wished to stride..
This Time;
Stained;
By the craving mid-summer moonlight.
Drenched;
By the nocturnal smiles.
Along an endearing pedestrian;
Shaded by his eyes.

Evoken..

The skies blushed with rain...
As the voices rumbled..
In a ardent yearning for the tide..
Over the moonless ceiling of darkness..
Away from the ruffled sheets..
Draped in a craved vermillion...
Within a zilch bareness..
Through a countless infinity..
Of Daybreaks and Twilights..
Engraved in her heart...
Buried in her mind...
Till her eyes clasp him..
Blended in quintessence..

Surrender..

I see him ..
I see myself...
Tender in his eyes...
Trembling with his gaze looking at my cheek...
I see him...
and I see myself again...
In the reflection of the moon drops every night...
Surrendering to his smiles...as they speak to me of his love...
My arms speak to his eyes...
Staring ...
At my eyelashes...
And I surrender to my love...
In an amaranth..
With an indelible kiss ..
Of amour...

Felt..

And then, there came a pause...
Where his hand held her skin
In a nuptial of breaths..

The morn froze....
So, did the remnant moonlight...
Along came chants...
With the whispers of amour...
Which he captured in her eyes...
And her voice...
Looking thru' the distorted glass...
Which..
Streamed down across the skies of two hearts ...
As the forest shook apart miles..
And the Western Coast trembled....
In disbelief and pleasure...
Of surrendering to her love...
In Eternity..
Forever more..

A Lunar noon...

Another summer lingers..
Through the shaded leaves of twilight..
Falling on those parted lips..
Demurely..
Licking a lost smile..
With a lucid sonnet..
Of abjured longing..
And tendered skies..

The old Bandra fort..
Hid the smoke..
In the fogged boulders grey..
Arising inside distant voices..
Of muted waves..
And tuneful rubble...

There arose another pair..
Of barren eyes..
To blink away mementos..
Amidst scarlet shadows...
Washed in lukewarm delight...
In an infliction of affection..
Of the Orange Moon..
Into a wordless eclipse..

Shaded..

She walks apart of the shadowed milieu...
In seeking words from another..
Amongst scorching bristles and stealth
In an unkempt rendezvous...
With the Sun..

Many crept apart...
From a fallacy of amour..
Inside that pouting heart..
Which hoped and hopes still;
For rebukes and whims..
Which smudges away deletions..
And expressions...
She holds back.. away...aloof..
From the Parisian walkways..

Ode to Freudian Complexes..

Plucking out fantasies,
From the whorls of phantasmal delight,
She cremated,
Words and syllables of affliction,
With lurid lullabies
Of Imagination..

Figurines of fervent love,
Burnt in terse absurdness,
Of Mirth and Misgivings,
Swerved an old house,
To form softened scars..
In a whirlpool of Maim.

Holding tender shards,
Of trembling dunes..
And lofty breeze,
She emerged out,
Sprinkling droplets of Blankness;
And Indifference;
Shielding jaded beams,
On a Supine dawn..

Phantasm..

The old footprints hung by the bay..
Crawling over abrupt silence,
Streaming the remains,
Of a festered coast..
Where the shimmering brine,
Strolled in a broken cavalcade,
Over the waves..

The ocean-bound voices trembled;
In an expression of lunar ecstasy;
Lost in the transient daylight,
Evading the echoes of his breath..
That brushed,
The rouge on her cheeks..

Profane records..
Playing in her mind;
Of an unusual retreat,
Drawing a name..
In the sands of twilight beaches...
Or..
The stagnant air..
Of dawning Walkways..

The streets became a part of her sight;
Singing of Mirages;
Chirping of parables..
And fables..

Picture of you...

The icicles
Shone across a molten cyan skyline..
Winter trickling down..
The chords of March.

Slivers of muted butterflies
Resembling a mild panacea,
Of an estranged pause..
Yielded;
To a sketched vignette..
Atop the old yellow leaflet;
Clasped within her eyes.

Nostalgia sprung on high notes..
Winding down mosaic warmth;
Rushing along a feverish brook..
And scented dale;
His song strummed the dusky fog..
Smothered in torrid snow flakes.



This one's for Lorenzo... wrote for him after a long time..

Brishti....

I wait for Sleep..
Feeling.. the need to fly..
I wish, I could run..
Run beyond the bayonets and shrines of Gods..
Run beyond the fog of cigarettes;
And rusted romance..

Swish along the path ..
Where I lived...
by the sea..
To that place..
Underneath the orphaned rain...
Swept up by the weeping Moon..
folded safe..
In my torn checkered pocket..

I can hear the Fendo bleed my nails..
And
Rye breaks down..
Breaks; Apart;
In bouts of levied consciousness..
Lifting my eyes to a canvas on the wall..
Of Judas and Agamemnon,
Of Sun;
And Moon;
and this time..
Baby came through...
Delved...out her way..
From the Disappearance..
Forever..

Binary Vision..

I was awake.. Yes, alone ...awake.. maybe woken up..
Too many things to remember.. strings...roses...the taste of rain at the hollow of my neck... the odd smell of carnesians..
But then...do carnesians have any smell at all?
Maybe not.. maybe it's just the way they feel..
The tender curled petals bristling along my hand...soft....like an eitherdown..maybe something you slept on in your childhood when you went back to pluck "aparajita" early morning...
maybe it reminded her of that..odd bud she hid along her pillow...reminiscing a lover...
Maybe the way it would feel to kiss someone over and over while you're splashed by the waves..
Maybe she did exist... in the realms of emptiness... in the corners of faith... in the hope for no more surrenders... in the feeling of living a life...
This time it was only her...
just her..
underneath the bridge of breaths.. sewing up pictures with closed eyes....forming that old blanket we all want... when we snuggle into our beds early winter mornings..

She can see every thing now ...even with that blinded sight.. ;)

Denial of a Pause..

And I saw you...
In the reflection of Ancient Shadows..
On the broken charcoal walls..
Your tongue stroked the poetry
On my neck..
Sensing beads of burnt words..
You revived smoldered hearth..
That warm afternoon..
When the inky beams...
Taught me..
The tradition of the sun..
In a moment like the deepest waters..
I was forbidden..
To touch it's curl..
Afraid
Of ripping it's frail depth...
In the cedar landscapes of a mind..
Where my dusty lips..
Drank on your parable..
Leaving an ellipsis..
With the sweet liquor..
Of severed touch..
Captured..
In an Iris of hues..

Zaayna..

The buzz of half-awaken Fire-birds..
Crowded the barren lamp
Held by the lost drifter..
In the maze through the Conifers..

Plunging the velvet fresco..
Of the stealthy green longitudes..
He tread a mirage..
Walking past..
The Carnage of a Carnival..

Tonight,
He beseech..
The Cenotaphs to rise..
From the warble of swallows..
Where the star-rays swished..
Across a Raven Cosmos..

Reflection of eyelashes...
Over a White Quran..
Parchment;
Swept away;
Blotting her glimpse..
Over the solemn air..
The wound
Washed away in Tear-drops;

Exponent of Enigma..
Hidden in that Musk
Perfumed skin..
A closed gaze felt..
in her fingers..
curling into his palm..
Seeking an endless kiss..

Denial settled on the pasture..
beneath his feet..
He clung..
to her touch..
Over..
The words of serenity
In grace..
And orison..

She was to stay..
Etched on his lips
Like an prayer..

[~ This one's esp for you both.. thank you for being there when I needed ..just needed someone else.. ]

The Natal Ballad..

She met
A Century Man
Lost by that River..
Drunk on the Mystic Chalice
Of Mist and Rain..
Strolling
The coloured street of the Unknown..

The earthy rubble swirled
In eccentric orbits..
Withdrawn rainbows
Of those moist nights..
Which hinted
His summer laugh...
Cascading down a discreet Carrousel..

Oh, that strange caprice!
Of an undone husky Sway..
Ripples in her breath..
Caressed the odd sparkling hours..
Into ageless times..
Where her eyes..
Met his Voice..
In the strangest olive gaze..

Whispering dreams of panache
And Panatella..
Drawn from that Unfeigned Ark
As She stood across..
The Jasmine Bay..
A little forlorn..
In an insipid floral shower..
Till the Scent of him
Blinded
the Jaded Shadows..
Of rusted rays..
and ashes of the earth...

Reminisces of Sue...

Euphoria eloped on Dainty Partridges...
Streaming Elysian Pathways...
Lured by her vagabond Jazz...
Held in arms..
Of the Intoxicating Macrocosm..
Which lay in her eyes..
Evoking Obscure Sorcery..
Through an Affable Smile...
Where the Desecrated leaf of Monsoon...
Was Ashened with a joyless momentum...
A pouting heart...
Lurking underneath...
..that Snow White veil..
That strange key-less laugh,
Pining for Redemption;
Yearning for love;
Unfelt yet so coveted;
...untouched yet so desired;
On her quest...
For the peace she held..
In the Corona of an embrace...
And the Aurora of a gaze...
Where she'll wake up...
In the Crafted orchard ..
....of an everlasting Daybreak...
Contained; Discovered;
In a bitter-sweet eulogy..

~
Love,

Raikamal

[P.S. ~ The key-lessness has been borrowed from Bhutu :)]

Ruska..

Words collided against a sylvan aura..
And I looked down at Ruska..
Stippled rain dabbing dew..
Afresh amidst the Obscurity of the Sun..

Hues draped the crunching nascent frost..
Strolling over a carpet of gold and maple..
I sense the air..
Smoldering mountain ashes..
In splashes of Crimson flames..

Penitent boulevards savor the void..
Envious of that flock of swans..
Which flew across the moist cornfield..
In whim and lust..
Hunting through Blueberry Slopes..
for a lost feather..
In surreptitious Autumn pens..

Coquettish reindeers chased the clouds..
For an imagery of a twining sunset..
Bringing home A Lunaa..
who set apart..
The allure of a ripened Season..
Along the Birch Vista..
In the old summer cottage..
of her dream..

Memento 22...

Deceptive tranquility wafted past..
Eons of obscure Allusions..
Eerie mockingbirds ambling with estranged songs..
Agape at the strangeness of the Sea..

An abridged afternoon disguised profanity..
Creeping along the broken streets..
Where she held the City by her gaze..
Her blinks..
An Anodyne to the blemishes..

The Wild April Snow..
Morphed nebulous sketches..
Of a bohemian phone call..
By a far away Arcane Story-teller..
With a stellar baritone averting wakefulness..
In a frivolous rapture into the night..

Bemused frost felt damp..
Against the pellucid window panes..
As she squinted past Mortal Maxims..
To meander along the Eastern Countryside..

The hands of time closed her eyes..
An Avalanche of smiles..
Of a Clandestine Phoenix..
Tenderly erupting into Daybreak..

The Song of Tragoidia..

The Sonnet broke free..
In the quiet January twilight..
Satyrs awakened to the amorous tune of Concerto..

Volition..
It blushed in amazement..
Serenading secrets to the Ice Lake..
Discerned in a Vortex of Predicaments..

Darkness..
It cloaked the tears..
Like strewn Jasmine hidden by the Vulpine Snow..
Stumbling upon a girl..
Who was neither a paragon..
of Virtue nor Justice..
Not tasting the fruit of her Wickedness..
but that of her mistake..

Tragedy..
It slid in to the frames of a memory..
Through the wishful will of fate..
Just as the sacrificed Iphigenia seek an answer..
And.. Antigone a funeral..

Silence..
It crooned an open road..
Rubble of Conscience lay untouched..
Defiant of a Cosmic Life..
Cloying conflicts..
Painting insipid sensibilities all around..

Devolva me....

I don't know what to say... And I don't know what to feel.. Maybe this is what it feels to disbelieve pathos and parables... To hear every tale, every story yet again... In the subconscious, I touch her hand as we spoke of a A Wednesday...
Thamma, Thamma... I called out to someone who'd seen me grow in to a little woman... in that row house by Goodwill Enclave.. It was just a fortnight ago, on the Christmas day, as chilly Pune air shied away with her warmth...
"Look Rimi's decorated the tree, a little mellow for commemorating the attacks"...

Why?.... Why?.... Why?

This afternoon as Rye writes, her ink dries up just as her voice is lost... the eyes unable to see and how ? How can she?....
The words can never be completed...
sentences a far cry...
Coz I can still smell her besides me... in the stories of a childhood spent at a home away from home... The horror, the morbidity and an ugly despair of senselessness vapourises from the heart...maybe.. all over me...forming an eerie glass prison..where I'm caught.. This time it's all over... there's only the abstract to look at.
Nothing really matters anymore...

Death playing a sublime jazz beating, mocking me from here on...

Clouds..

The hands of time closing in on her eyes..
Dead petals balking in acrimony..

For..
she once was a young..
gardenia bud..
Brushing across the streaming ponds..
swaying with winds..

Refusing to leave her willow..
She escaped to the reveries..
of the jilted clouds..

Weaned... in her wilted abode..
She fell prey to the earth..
Adorning the hall of reverence..

The candles flickered to the hum..
Of an Old Carol..
Beholding the benevolence of the Lord..

There..
She found her clover leaf..
Her place in solace and solitude..

~
This one's dedicated to Sushi...
Love you always :)

Auld Lang Syne..

The demure star
made love
to
the whisps
of
a night
so apocalyptic
knowing
it will
break
into a dawn..

A soft season
of
hopefulness..
shrill
and faint..
Cremated
with
the creole
they sang
once
lying in arms..

The July rain
sank
on
it's knees
As
the silence
streaked
down
her
livid
naked
cheeks..

An insatiated
edifice
the whirlwind
left behind..
over
the
stone chair
by
the garden..
Decorous air
set
love-leaves
afloat
to the sky..
Even as
the Moonbeam
stole
them away..

She sat
by
the temple
of time..
The snow
this December
turning
lemon wet..
with
the
Whiff of Spring..