Haiku 100- It's different

She opened her new black leather journal. A fresh pad of lined paper gleamed with chemical clarity. She stared at her unmoving hand . When the lanky headboy had done it, it had hurt. A lot. She took to the track field while he busied himself spreading vicious untruths.

She had run back to the track field that morning. The red clay lay clean like blackboard on first day of school. The white lines stretched all around. In the distance lay the 200 m mark. She began to sob on her first step.

Then she'd only felt broken. Now she was.

55-First

She pulled up her black halter before stepping out from the black 350i. Could he tell this was her first visit? She collected herself and began walking.

Past the bouncers, she took in the sight before her. It was everything she expected. Sans the layers of smoke.
She began to fiddle nervously with her mangalsutra.

I'd rather let Karma weigh their deeds if I were you.

Too late

I cried as I saw the boy's photos.

I saw him with a goofy grin. I saw his pictures from the night he won the bhangra contest.
I saw him with ten different bottles of beer, whiskey and soda. Molson's, Blue Label and Cola. Never in a drunken stupor.

I saw him at Indian formals. 15 different silk ties.
I saw his eyes were wide set, large and thickly fringed. That they always laughed. I saw he went to the mandir each weekend. I saw he believed in one god.

I saw him with his iphone. Vacationing through the Caribbean. Posing in his track pants and grey boxers with a bare chest.
I saw him with his bike. That he died on.

I saw his blood on the asphalt. His motorcycle under the '97 chevy. The yellow tape. His 700 friends who mourned.

We'd never met. Now we never could.

I felt his cologne when he stood in his jeans freshly showered. I heard their laughs when someone had clicked as the boys hoisted him up on their shoulders. I felt the girls' heartbeats rise as he danced wearing his silk tie. I felt the sun's glare as he squinted and his face looked softly kind. I felt the crisp morning he stood outside his law school.

That was you. That was Him too.

I cried over the photos I'd never see.
I cried for the stranger I could never befriend.
I cried because it wasn't part of the plan.
I cried for the friendships it broke.

I cried.
Because you couldn't.

Gone

Whenever the house of cards collapses there is time to write.

To fill the air with words where rooms with neatly laid desires lay in bed sleeping contently for the morning would soon come to awaken them.

Then the cards quickly flew through the air. Whistling by like lost feathers from a bird's hind.

When your homes burned in an arsonist's fire it left behind cinders for you to clench in your tensed fist.

All there is here is air.

Air in the wind. That blew an hour ago.
And made her love winter.

Now there's just the winter and the air.
But nothing else to hold her love.

One and only

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!

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.

Reason for leave

The pen writes smoothly only when the ink is filled with the waters of your heart.

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 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.