May you continue to bring happiness into the lives of your beloved family and your countless friends *touchwood*
May you continue to touch the lives of countless strangers for whom you give so selflessly.
May you claim the success, the glory and the prosperity which is righfully yours. May you find your year ahead blessed with closer relationships, peace and contentment.
May the past not linger into your future. May God let you shake it away and walk unburdened into the future.
May you find the year and many many many more ahead overflowing with happiness and the fulfillment of your dreams.
Happy Birthday fatso!
Monday, October 29, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
3 years without
There is so much that remains to be asked. To be heard. To be shared.
Your agony haunts me. I need new memories.
It's all unfair.
Come back. Please.
We never said goodbye.
Your agony haunts me. I need new memories.
It's all unfair.
Come back. Please.
We never said goodbye.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Words don't come easily
She lay motionless in the dark room. Outside the winds wailed like a crowd of banshees and clobbered the large window panes. It pushed people off the sidewalks into their secluded large homes and gas fireplaces. The trees bent helplessly and quaked as their delicate quivering branches were raped off their leaves.
The popcorn ceiling turned unexpectedly high into the slant of the roof. It felt too big inside and she too insignificant.
A mouse stood atop a slinky, in the trademark red and black of Disney. It was a purchase from the shops that lined the two confusing concentric circles of a busy marketplace. It had been insisted and she'd tried to refuse in her soft voice. Then she smiled shyly when it was placed in her hand outside the Disney store. Maybe they'd gone on to purchase some books later but she didn't remember anymore. It had been too long.
She sighed.
Some pictures had been lost, as though trying to hasten the erasure of memories. Like ink fading out on pieces of paper crackling with the traces of dried tears. The loss threatened to let those moments be relived only in the ache with which they were remembered.
She closed her eyes and a large tear slowly slid softly down her high cheekbones and fell upon the top of her clavicle. It eased into a nook and lay cold upon her feverish body.
She cuddled into a ball like a foetus searching for warmth and lay still again.
The popcorn ceiling turned unexpectedly high into the slant of the roof. It felt too big inside and she too insignificant.
A mouse stood atop a slinky, in the trademark red and black of Disney. It was a purchase from the shops that lined the two confusing concentric circles of a busy marketplace. It had been insisted and she'd tried to refuse in her soft voice. Then she smiled shyly when it was placed in her hand outside the Disney store. Maybe they'd gone on to purchase some books later but she didn't remember anymore. It had been too long.
She sighed.
Some pictures had been lost, as though trying to hasten the erasure of memories. Like ink fading out on pieces of paper crackling with the traces of dried tears. The loss threatened to let those moments be relived only in the ache with which they were remembered.
She closed her eyes and a large tear slowly slid softly down her high cheekbones and fell upon the top of her clavicle. It eased into a nook and lay cold upon her feverish body.
She cuddled into a ball like a foetus searching for warmth and lay still again.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
The first anniversary
The aqua blue walls mocked her ability to make wise decisions. The disarray had become a new habit she couldn't live with. It was easier to live elsewhere.
She stood to inspect what had been taken out of cardboard boxes and sighed. The piles stood messily beside the carton. She had wanted to avoid opening them till she had time. Or had 'cleared a little space in the corners of her mind'.
She had no inclination to tackle the piles and organize them where they belonged. Nothing belonged anywhere. She had no strength left to make the room more comfortable for her to stay in. The walls weren't those that she had to step out of. The mess was an inhuman part of her existence. It existed- on her bed or her closet, what did it matter?
She started to walk away and then froze near the enormous towering mirror. A tiny bundle of black and grey stared at her.
She remembered rummaging through the series of futuristic organized clear plastic boxes without any luck. Had she really tried then? Maybe not but she couldn't have tried any harder anyway. She had been numb with how closely she could feel death.
She had run so far away. There was nothing left to run from anymore.
The webcam looked back at her scornfully and she forced herself to turn away.
She stood to inspect what had been taken out of cardboard boxes and sighed. The piles stood messily beside the carton. She had wanted to avoid opening them till she had time. Or had 'cleared a little space in the corners of her mind'.
She had no inclination to tackle the piles and organize them where they belonged. Nothing belonged anywhere. She had no strength left to make the room more comfortable for her to stay in. The walls weren't those that she had to step out of. The mess was an inhuman part of her existence. It existed- on her bed or her closet, what did it matter?
She started to walk away and then froze near the enormous towering mirror. A tiny bundle of black and grey stared at her.
She remembered rummaging through the series of futuristic organized clear plastic boxes without any luck. Had she really tried then? Maybe not but she couldn't have tried any harder anyway. She had been numb with how closely she could feel death.
She had run so far away. There was nothing left to run from anymore.
The webcam looked back at her scornfully and she forced herself to turn away.
Friday, August 31, 2007
I wish to sprawl out on a white deck chair by the rooftop pool. Of luminous blues rippling softly with the scarce lazy breeze.
And close my eyes as my skin feels like it is expanding under the glare of the sun. Then dream of soft poems of why the summer delights me to a slight tingle in my toes.
But sometimes there are no words because what is, is just as it is.
And that's really, that.
And close my eyes as my skin feels like it is expanding under the glare of the sun. Then dream of soft poems of why the summer delights me to a slight tingle in my toes.
But sometimes there are no words because what is, is just as it is.
And that's really, that.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Found
Her brown hair a mess of waves framing her face and hunched shoulders.
A light feeling makes her giddy in stomach and tingles down to her toes.
Her pencil pauses as she smiles at the familiar rush of delightful excitement.
It may not be the same as the night of limelight at terraced gardens. Of a dance of jumps, linked arms and waists wrapped in red satin sashes.
Or of the embarrassment at the rehearsals on the cool tiled floors near the World Trade Centre [of 40 odd storeys] .
Her heart rolled on the waves of the sea in anticipation.
It will not be the same but it'll be enchanting.
All over Again.
A light feeling makes her giddy in stomach and tingles down to her toes.
Her pencil pauses as she smiles at the familiar rush of delightful excitement.
It may not be the same as the night of limelight at terraced gardens. Of a dance of jumps, linked arms and waists wrapped in red satin sashes.
Or of the embarrassment at the rehearsals on the cool tiled floors near the World Trade Centre [of 40 odd storeys] .
Her heart rolled on the waves of the sea in anticipation.
It will not be the same but it'll be enchanting.
All over Again.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Undeniable
Quietly, the phone is placed on the darkly stained pinewood desk.
There's a sudden calm in the air, even as her hands shake with the tremors within.
A silent acceptance of the turn of events. Of her doing. Of another large reservoir of 'what ifs' to carry around for her lifetime. Of helplessness.
A quick glance to the dull gold book cover etched with a peaceful face holdng up a flute.
And somewhere the music doesn't play but the words stream in as easily as the light through the glass windows.
" We were meant to live for so much more. Have we lost ourselves?"
There's a sudden calm in the air, even as her hands shake with the tremors within.
A silent acceptance of the turn of events. Of her doing. Of another large reservoir of 'what ifs' to carry around for her lifetime. Of helplessness.
A quick glance to the dull gold book cover etched with a peaceful face holdng up a flute.
And somewhere the music doesn't play but the words stream in as easily as the light through the glass windows.
" We were meant to live for so much more. Have we lost ourselves?"
Friday, August 03, 2007
Our days with Hazel
Floor to high ceiling glass panelled windows encased in a room of three quarters wooden panels in the clean lines of contemporary design.
Franctic studying alternates with exchange of whispers of childhood chance encounters in the hallways and buses [the joys of school buses]. Of innocence in reasons and logic. Combined laughter after sudden bouts of [one-sided] embarrassment hidden behind long locks of dark brown hair.
Of sticky notes organizing our anxiety of weeks to come [in moss green, mango ice cream orange, raspberry pink and mauve- the delights of Post It !].
Highlighters, pencil cases, binders, book-bags cellphones. The whiteboard still the most favoured, and fun, study aide.
Wrappers of food brought in discreetly. Hand lotions on feet, winter clothes to defend against the Evil of the library.
So much to remember so much to miss.
But the men of the kingdoms await or so the wish granting cow says.
So if you shall excuse me.
My summer is still booked and I'm feeling as happy as it is May.
Franctic studying alternates with exchange of whispers of childhood chance encounters in the hallways and buses [the joys of school buses]. Of innocence in reasons and logic. Combined laughter after sudden bouts of [one-sided] embarrassment hidden behind long locks of dark brown hair.
Of sticky notes organizing our anxiety of weeks to come [in moss green, mango ice cream orange, raspberry pink and mauve- the delights of Post It !].
Highlighters, pencil cases, binders, book-bags cellphones. The whiteboard still the most favoured, and fun, study aide.
Wrappers of food brought in discreetly. Hand lotions on feet, winter clothes to defend against the Evil of the library.
So much to remember so much to miss.
But the men of the kingdoms await or so the wish granting cow says.
So if you shall excuse me.
My summer is still booked and I'm feeling as happy as it is May.
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