You incomplete me

I am the night
And you the sun
The dawn of our love short lived
But beautiful
Akin to that sunrise
You incomplete me
In just the right ways.

Meri manpasand kurti

Meri ek manpasand kurti hai

Jise na jaane kitne saalon se har doosre din

Main pehente aa rahi hun.

Ki taar taar ho chali hai.

Dhyaan se dekho

Toh chhote chhote 

Aadhe tedhe

Chhed anginat ho chale hain, 

Jinse dhoop aur baarish

Mujhse aksar roobaroo ho liya karte hain.

Ab to har baar pehnne se pehle 

Ek baar dar lagta hai

Ki shayad is baar 

Jab ise dhula jayega

To chal basegi ye,

Meri manpasand kurti.

Bas kuchh isi tarah, mera dil bhi hai.

Ise har baar dhul kar

Aangan mein sukha leti hun.

Sochti hun

Ab ise seva nivritt kar hi dun

Apni kurti ko

Aur koi nayi

Chamakti si

Ho sakta hai

T shirt le aaun iske badle?

Thodi 'modern' ho jaun?

Phir teh laga kar rakhi kurti par

Nazar pad jaati hai

Aur haath ruk nahin paate

Ek aur baar shayad 

Pehen hi leti hun?

Ki jabtak phat kar do hisson mein

Ye is kaabil hi nahin reh jayegi

Ki ise pehna jaaye

Tab tak, 

Kaise kisi aur ko almari ka vo kona saunp doon?

Bas kuchh isi tarah, mera dil bhi hai.

Ise har baar seene ke

Usi kone mein teh laga kar rakh deti hun.

Ki ummeed hai

Avaastavik si hi sahi

Ke shayad is kurti se pehle

Main hi chal basun?

Bas kuchh isi tarah, mera dil bhi hai.

Ise har baar lambi umr ki duaayein de

Khud ko pyaar na karne ki hidayat de deti hun.

Phir dhul kar

Aangan mein sukha leti hun.

Aur seene ke

Usi kone mein teh laga kar rakh deti hun.

Manpasand hone ka ise maine achha sila diya hai.

Refraction.

14th November, 2015
11 p.m.

Refraction

He's listening to a song on repeat.

He says it helps with the wounds
And that hurts a little
In a bittersweet kind of way
Because I have the same wounds
And we'll have the same scars

It's like how some people get tattoos together
Our matching scars.
Except,
I'm terrified of needles.
And he's got plenty of tattoos already.

And that kind of sums it all up
For the both of us.
Opposites that attracted
And refracted
Through the prism of circumstances
Into irreconcilable differences
Knowing fully well that there could have been
Just white light
But it wasn't.
Fuck you science.

And I'm listening to the same song on repeat.

Except it isn't healing my wounds.

I wonder why the song
Chose him over me...
Maybe because he needed the words more than I did
I could write my own after all,
he had said.
Words which would only make it worse for the both of us.
For me in epiphanies
And for him in the 'could have been's.

And now we're both listening to the same song on repeat

While we stare at our chats
And stay online
Listening to all that is said
In the presence of our silences
When 'we', are nowhere to be found.

And he sends me another song.

I know I will cry to sleep today.
And he will stay awake.
Opposites that attracted
And refracted

Me, into the red of the sunset

Him, into the colourless night

Shadow and light

And 'us' into the twinkle of that star

That was dead when we wished upon it

But no one knew

Because light

Didn't travel fast enough

And time passed us by too soon

And I write my apologies
In my head
For putting these words out there
Making it worse for the both of us
Hoping he'll not read them
While wanting him to.

He's still listening to the song on repeat
While my heart plays out our silences on loop.

And while we were asleep.

There’s a crow flying outside my window.

It crows.

At this ungodly hour of 5 in the night

(Or morning, if you must)

The sky is a dull violet

The air still and stagnating

Humid, sticky

The rickety ceiling fan and its creaking

I toss yet again

Five hours of trying in vain

Sleep elusive as always

Sweaty, uncomfortable, at unease

And it crows.

Perched on my window ledge.

Mocking the hollowness of my generation…

We stay up nights, sleep through days

Smoking our way to size zero

Movies, music, dancing, drugs

Fiercely claiming responsibility for our lives

And then throwing ourselves off balconies.

Such painting of us all with one brush

I pity the mockers

They know nothing of our times

And I muffle my sobs on the Spencer’s cushion

And it crows.

Refusing to leave my bedside.

When I finally fall asleep at 06:30 hrs

I know I will miss the afternoon condolence meeting

And feel guilty for the very

Long duration of five minutes

Then, convince myself it doesn’t matter

And go on

Because people die and that’s a reality

It is when the living stop to matter

That we need to worry

We should have worried, Long ago.

The crow is silent now.

Sleep.

Love is blind.

The poem below was written in a pensive frame of mind. Each word carrying a lot of meaning. But then I revisited this poem a couple of days later and added a last line. The poem suddenly became light and funny, at least to me and a couple of my friends. This poem and that last line taught me a lot about the way of saying things and the importance of words. Here are both versions:

The original: 

Love is blind.

On the Howrah bridge,

The winds are really strong

And the sunset beautiful

Setting into the river as the lights from the ghats start to dance

On the rippling waters ecstatic

The temple bells ringing

The kids diving head first into the muddy waters near the bank

You could stand there forever and still wish for one second more.

Today, as I stand on the London bridge,

It takes my breath away.

The city rises from behind the banks on one hand

The commercial capital glittering in the rays of the setting sun

While the shadows play on the other side

With its palace and castle and historic boast.

I know I’ve fallen in love.

And I remember Howrah.

And I regret nothing.

The one with the extra line:

On the Howrah bridge,

The winds are really strong

And the sunset beautiful

Setting into the river as the lights from the ghats start to dance

On the rippling waters ecstatic

The temple bells ringing

The kids diving head first into the muddy waters near the bank

You could stand there forever and still wish for one second more.

Today, as I stand on the London bridge,

It takes my breath away.

The city rises from behind the banks on one hand

The commercial capital glittering in the rays of the setting sun

While the shadows play on the other side

With its palace and castle and historic boast.

I know I’ve fallen in love.

And I remember Howrah.

And I regret nothing.

I was never the sondesh kind of person anyway.