SIGNATURE STANCE

I had waited with impatience for this day, for all the fabrication to move and to feel that tickle within… to be glad without much reason… to stare down all the irony and to deny everything else for that one person. I was quite fearsome of my imperfection, what if I never stood a chance? And so the apprehension remained… But now… to be frank I don’t think I could afford to have a lot of rules about love. Because every step of that way he keeps mocking my tiny apprehension… like at the moment I am so special and I love that about him. Not just it, excusing me for giving in to my impulses like almost the time… I love that about him. He had something else going for him, I still don’t know why I am not able to name it. But it’s like I want to do everything and anything possible to get that look of trust on his face. I still don’t have the slightest idea … maybe love could be a heavy word… PS : I am oblivious of what I’m scribbling.

Once upon a time in la la land... I had some peace of mind (if you can call it that). If peace of mind meant sleeping peacefully most of the time, ignoring all the coldness, denying all good vibe quotes and recreating my version of the same …then yes, I had peace of mind. Music and ladoos were more than enough to make up for every lack I had in my life. I was happy. I can't say that I am 'sad' now, but I am definitely not at 'peace'. Sleep seems to have broken up with me completely, but somehow I wanted my nights and days to be longer despite that. Why? Because this was probably the only time when I would be able to talk to him, help him untangle his crazy mind. I close my eyes every time to conjure up images of him. The way he smiles, the way he frowns, the way he lays his hands casually on his steering wheel, the way he secretly looks at me through the rear view mirror, And his scar OMG... I can’t express how badly I am in love with his scar. I could admir

If I asked why it was you wouldn’t bother to answer. You aren’t answerable to just anyone, after all. Maybe you never thought you would need anything more. Maybe you hadn’t even thought of thinking of the said thought. As if you drew your lines on feelings. Not that you ever noticed these things as such, or had any opinions about it. ‘Coz sometimes I do feel your eyes on me. I always admired them. They were extremely piercing. There was a promised impulsiveness in them. And how you always begin with monologues, but you never get anything else out… but I could live with that. 

They say family is one such space where life begins and love never ends, and so goes innumerable slogans on the same. I would have surely nodded my head had it been few years before!  Blame time… for even time stands amidst certain apprehensions wondering whether to stand still or move along. At times I fancy only if people chose to stay for the right things happened to them and not leave for the one wrong thing! But the truth pricks me that things never happen the same way twice. Appearing alike countless others, it totally washed away a very strong notion in me… one for all, all for one. Reality strikes again! Bonds are built on needs and less on love! Your family gambling around your whole life… it does feel sick, but no one is spared… not even the tiny tots. The seeds of frustration is long inculcated in them, god bless the adults! Let down??? No way! I am not let down for I had vague ideas of the impending misery. When the leaf turns over, the lessons would reflect… sufferings e

I hate the cold. I hate the numbness. I hate the dampness that covers the window pane. But today you could say I was all blinded by the freezing intensity. My naked body crave to be touched… a gentle tap to stir me up. I am not used to this nudity, but it matters less when the soul seems shrouded and stiff as stone. How can I feel so unbelievably numb yet be crying so profusely deep in? I try to lift my body only in vain for I feel some one’s still there on top of me. My fingers part way, I feel them shivering. They run through the glass pane gently moving the mist. A glance out scanning the cold world, and I catch a pleasing sight of a woman, brushing her child’s hair. Her fingers gently going through the curls and her lips quietly moving. It should be that special song. The song that pours out the peace of a mother’s heart. Mother used to sing me one, rock me in her lap. I wasn't a baby then… still it was sweet, the only lovable bits of my broken childhood. My eyes are strain

The wishing well longed for the coin, the true one lone tossed high. Some just tricky to fall right through, whilst their lay behind one… prized by the imps… Alike the serene water gliding down the mount, there are plenty of souls open to countless readings… yet heap of others closing their space blocking our gaze. Their secret fills the air... deceiving you in a hundred thousand ways. As in no one knows the truth, the obviousness of the fake you. Have a look around, the life... the people... nothing equals the water, not even the drops that lie in the foothills. They wait along for the perfect time to hit, with bait so faultless to doubt. A face hard to find, or searched less behind the games played. It resides in you, me and all the spirits... behold, familiarize through the hymn of the wayfarer …for the stories he saw defines it better. The vagueness lie deep down, yet the silken lines smarten it. It’s hard to hold to myself now as even the smiles carry a tinge of pretense. The

A melancholy of a familiar tale, Stomping the castle of the dream, Behold the face of every girl, The eve hood born with a curse alike… The wedding bells knock the door, And here goes the knitting of the dream, The fuss and roar of a little mind, The tint of shades to the ring of a glass, Pick and drop for the choice is vast, Says the mind of an edgy girl, For the dreams weaved is to grow, And for once will be the moment… Tone of lilac of a long loved tulip, And the quarts of string melt melody into air, A step await a fresh phase, As the carpet lead her to the stage… A drop of tear in the place of curve, And the hush-hush not to be heard, The lilacs crushed on the floor, And the empty seats on the dome, The silence before the consent, And the pause after the ‘I do’, A flash evoking the staleness of soul, Leaves the bride with the broken castle of her dreams...