The woman in the saree

She looked so beautiful in her blue and gold saree.

Her face radiated like the reflection of the sun in the waves of her pallu.

Her stomach glanced from behind the cloth like a shy bride.

Her curls grazed her shoulders like the fingers of a maestro on his instrument.

Her feet slithered on the ground like naked children on a rainy road.

And her hands stroked her knees to ignite the first sparks of life-

That life that I saw in her eyes,

as she slowly looked up..

Towards me.

How long had I been in love with her?

How long had I been?

Home

I’m home now, and all I want is silence.

Silence that reminds me of all that I felt yesterday, when I looked at that waterfall. The water rushed into narrow crevices, and the bubbles seemed to coalesce right before it was sucked into the vast expanse of the lake. They were lovely bubbles because they reminded me of how people are: how they come from different places and garner just for that brief moment before they are thrown into an unending void of the Future. And as they collide with that edge, they change colour from blue or red or whatever they fancy reflecting, into a pure white enragement that is froth.

Even such simple things in nature connive such paradoxes. It is these intricacies that entangle my coherence. It is the gushing sound of the water, playing in my head over and over, that shushes me and reminds me of the beauty of the unspoken.

I felt like I was home then.

And in the silence of this instant, I am home even now.

Clown

The leaves brushed against the sky,

Perception, no, you never lie.

Flowers bloomed to diffuse the scent,

Reality, I know what you meant.

And then the world went upside down,

Imagination, thoust think I’m a clown.

I am a clown.

The Rain and the Sitar

Follow her as she leads you with her music,

Into her music.

Follow her as the little drops fall onto the neck of her sitar,

Strumming each string with their buoyancy,

Splitting into two by virtue of their feat.

Follow her as they slither along her cheek,

Ending with the crescent of her smile.

Follow her as she quivers in delight,

As they quiver on the gourd.

Follow them as they lead you with their music, into their music.

Fear

It came forth from within me, the light,

Emanating as a wave to the beats of my heart.

Corroding the area between my breasts with its intensity.

It came forth from me, and split into seven,

Diffracted by my imaginary sphere of existence:

The red curved in fury of the severance,

Twisting and writhing around my stomach,

Whilst the violet travelled in search of my savior,

Merging with the skies and calling out to Faith.

I plea to thee.

Don’t let me destroy myself.

Life, the Universe and Everything

Clasp my hand, it did,

With its bony long fingers.

And looked at me with a humanoid sadness.

I didn’t know what to do,

I knew I’d miss it too.

I knew I loved it with more love than I had for anything I’d refer to as ‘it’.

It waved its golden eyeball-things at me,

Vibrating with a sort of pandemonium, as if to hypnotize me.

“You wish to take me along?” I asked.

Its golden eyeball-things did a little dance.

“That won’t work on me, you know.”

It moved its body, sinusoid-style.

“Very impressive, but not enough.”

It groaned a groan for it, a burp for me.

I smiled.

It smiled.

Apparently, those are universal.

And slowly, it released its grasp on my hand.

Leaving red lines charging across my wrist--

With a hint of golden.

Apparently, so is love.

Music

They said I sang well. I used to love feeling the vibrations of my voice against the insides of my throat. More than that, I loved how they were strong enough to thwart the barrier of my skin and palpitate against my palm. That very palm sensed my heart-beat as well, but my sound usurped that sign of life.

It was my life.

I would rather breathe in music.