On freedom

It is a cage, within a cage, within a cage.

 

This imprisonment is multilayered

Each layer is so dramatic. So exhausting.

 

There was that dream once of being free.

Now it remains an abstract concept.

 

Everytime there is the feeling of freedom,

The nagging notion of impending doom

Accompanies it like silence before storms.

 

Maybe when or if these bonds ever break

I will miss the shackles for ol’ times sake.

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On Fear

And I flow like a stream

In imperfect sinusoidal waves

Crashing against you. You’re static.

You’re always there. Reliable.

And I flow, and flow. On and on.

And you’re still there. The same.

You’re an artwork of my dynamics.

You’re all parts that I haven’t eroded.

You’re slowly weathering into dust.

What will I do without you?

On Farewells

“But all things change. Let this remain.”
I’ve forgotten that nothing remains.
Change is the universal way of life.
What doesn’t change, stagnates.
Stagnation reeks of regrets. Laments.
What ifs. Desperation. Resignation.

The only way is the way forward.
Forward is like the bark of a tree.
Aged. Aging. From the lonesome bark.
That unites the mass of the tree
Representing the times gone by
In togetherness that we spent.

Shooting towards the sun, to tomorrow
Branching off in geometric progression.
Each branch headed a different way
Pursuing each our own goals. Aims.
Occasionally intersecting. Mingling.
Reminiscing. Ruminating. Resonating.
while aware of the imminent farewell.

And when it comes, it isn’t pleasant.
It’s the bittersweet pill of growth, isn’t it?
We must progress. Forward is the only way.
And so it is with today, like many days.
It’s a farewell not unlike other farewells.

Periodic. Practiced. Poetic..

In its rhythmic crests and troughs.
We are meant to spread our wings
And float in the breezes, the winds.
There is a part of you in me and
We gravitate to this connection.
This is a farewell. Farewell, my dear.

Dear Men

I want to talk and to be heard. Remember me for the opinions I have, not for how curvy my body is, or how I might be in your bed.

I want to be judged, not by the clothes I wear. Judge me for my words, my actions. I dare you.

I want my dreams to be as justified as yours. It doesn’t matter that I am evolutionarily built for child-bearing. I will not be your child-bearing machine.

I want you to enjoy my cooking. But know that I cook because I like to. It is neither my job nor my duty.

I want you to respect my uniqueness, because I will always reject and resent society’s standard stereotypes.

I want to be independent- emotionally, financially and every possible way. Be with me only if you like to be with me.

I want your acceptance, yes. But I don’t give a damn about your approval. The only approval I seek is my own.

I want you to tell me what you think. Don’t go soft on me, and know that I won’t either.

I want your assurance- in life, in the ring, in everything. But doubt me and I will do anything possible to prove you wrong.

I want your love, know that I will cherish it. But don’t cage me in its wake citing the evil in this world. Change the world!

I want to do all those things people tell me I shouldn’t because I’m a girl. I want to ride a bike, get a tattoo and trek the Himalayas with a bunch of strangers.

I want to be able to roam the streets at 12 a.m. because I want to, without having to be afraid.

I want you to respect what I want. Know that I also want humanity to be obliterated and dogs to rule in total anarchy.

It’s not about giving me more rights and reservations, because these only seek to widen the gulf between man and woman today.

It’s about where we stand in each other’s eyes. I will not worship you and you should not debase me for matters of biology and which chromosome made it to second base some twenty years ago.

avalanche

in the darkness, composing sonnets for
shadows, running away from your voice
and quivering feet that beat in meter
with the music of the trees

the trees, the trees
there are no trees
except the ones in my colouring book
paper trees humming silently

i shall compare thee to summer
when it sings you rain
or is it the other way around
your words are an avalanche
there’s no point in running from you
you are the sun
you shine everywhere

hiding in silence
is not a very good idea
silence is a very harsh music
for unprepared ears

 

falling_stars_by_movco-d9nf9wp1
Falling stars, by movco 

message in a bottle

The snake in your room is a little different from the snake in mine
your snake being yours
and mine being mine

stuck between home and not-quite
because they are the same in the sea
we are flotsam staying up through poetry

I’m hiding in plain sight
screaming to be seen
a message in a bottle
between Mumbai and Delhi,
between oceans of stories, not knowing
how to come or go

knowing only that I must float