You

You are my truth
And my illusion
My wings
And the bars on my cage
My lavender fields
And the summer sand under my feet
My first rain
And my fistful of broken dreams
You are every season
You're the hands on my clock
With you I begin
And you are the end of me...

Immortality

There are moments

When I see, mirrored,

In your eyes

A reflection of the recondite emotions

That flow through my veins

But then you brush away my hair from my brow,

And tuck it behind my ear,

Just to reaffirm

That the speck of moisture

In my eye

Was not born of desolation. 

These are moments,

When you show me the meaning 

Of immortality...

I Hope Not

Born in darkness,
I learnt to laugh 
By the glow of the neon lights
That make my mother look beautiful;
From the time the sun sets,
Till the first light of dawn.
Her laughter tinkles,
Infectious,
With every new face,
Though most of them never return.
Coloured liquid in tiny bottles,
Lined against the mirror,
Catch the light of the sun
While she sleeps...
I put some on my nails sometimes
And I count the tiny lines on her face-
The lines you cannot see
In the dark of the night.
What is left 
Of the string of jasmines in her hair
Fills our room with their scent;
They smell a little
Like the tiny flower shop
Right outside the temple we never visit.
I don't like the white letters on the board,
But I like the sweet candy 
That the nice lady brings on Sundays
For after the Maths classes.
I'd rather be pretty like mother;
With coloured nails,
Flowers in my hair,
And the tinkle of bells around my ankles...
So I don't understand,
I know not why mother weeps,
And says, 
'I hope not'.

Hold Me Tonight...

Hold my hand,

Lead me through forgotten pasts,

Lead me to distant dreams;

I don’t want to sleep tonight, darling...

Touch me,
Just the way you know I need to be touched:

Trail your lips along mine,

Make me close my eyes;

Let me see your face,

Etched in my forever;

Let me feel you,

Under my fingertips.

Whisper sweet nothings

And sing to me,

What the cicada sings to his mate...

Hold me tonight,

Like we don’t have tomorrow;

Hold me tonight,

Like you’ll never let go!

(Composed - 25 June 2014)

Why Do You Sigh?

Why do you stand by the open window

All by yourself,

Staring into the distance,

When the whole house sleeps?

Why do you sigh,

When the wind blows your hair,

Into your melancholy face?

Why do you touch the corner of your eyes

With your knuckles?

Why do your lips quiver when you smile?

Why do your fingers tremble,

As if to touch something,

Just beyond your reach?

What do you look for

Beyond the darkness of the night?

There are no starts to count tonight;

So you won’t find hope,

Not in the sky...

I know,

Because I tried.

(Composed - 16 July 2014)

Did You Learn to Cook?

Half a pack of cards -
The king of spades still has the turned corner
On the left bottom;
From that weekend we spent,
Locked in a cottage
Lost amidst coffee and pepper...
I knew you cheated, you know,
And I let you win anyway.
I still have that book,
Marked with a dried rose
On page 211;
‘Sad poems’, you said, with misty eyes,
So I packed it away in my bag...
I never returned it,
And you never asked.

I don’t have pictures;
When you left, you took them all.
Perhaps you knew,
That I don’t need pictures,
To remember,
How you leaned out of the rear window,
To look back,
When you thought I wasn’t watching;
I don’t need pictures to remember,
How you'd bite your lip
When you smiled sometimes;
How you moved when you danced
In my arms;
How you’d tie up your hair, a little messy,
And hum in the kitchen...
By the way, did you learn to cook?

The little love-notes you left,
Stuck to the bathroom mirror;
The oversized, overworn T-shirt,
That we both fought over;
A pair of grey socks,
That you forgot in the laundry basket -
These are all that are left of you
Behind my closed door...
And yet,
Like the lingering smell of drenched earth
After a rain,
What I have of you
Is so much more.

(Composed - 07th July 2014)

Sometimes...

When the grey sky stretches like evenings in Summer
And melts into the red earth
As I spread my hands to catch a bit of the wind;
When the air smells like wet lilies,
And like the time I tried to hoard
In an old shoebox tied with a red ribbon;
When the ledge outside my kitchen window
Is lined with tiny sparrows
Shaking the rain from their wings;
I think of you:
I think of lemonade laced with mint
And the tangy taste of kisses,
I think of blankets and laughter
And your fingers in my hair,
Of the new umbrella sitting in my bag
While we walked in the rain,
Of the coffee cups we bought
But never filled,
Of promises never made
Yet promises kept.

And I wonder if, perhaps,
You think of me too sometimes.