Growing up

Fish and bones

and black tar roads,

familiar faces and 

memories set in stones.

A distinct fragrance,

of palm trees tall,

swings and playground

 - my world was small.

Sea and sand,

they beckoned me - 

a wide-eyed speck

in a sky rise city.

Loss and religion,

riots and blasts,

the boy next door

 - etched the adolescent heart.

The search for a hero

brought me close to her

a peaceful home

to the heavens above.

Writer, dancer, 

actor, doctor - 

She set me free

 - to make my future.

And there I stood

a heart and a sole,

to begin my quest

for a new home.

To make friends

and write stories new,

to travel places

 - in search of you.

P.S. I have grown up (in fact still growing up) in many different places. And I have always wondered if each of these places have contributed in tweaking my personality in its own way. Would I be a different person if the order of these places in my life changed? Would I be different if instead of Mumbai, I had landed in Chennai? If instead of UK, I had chosen to go to the US? What would I be doing today? Would I be writing this article at all? Would I still be in search of a home? Would I still meet you?

The quest

Some lost, some found

some scattered, some bound

to the whole,
to the part,

to the finish, 

to my senselessly beating heart.

A shooting star, fading 

into the darkness, into space

out of sight,
still on my mind,

a tiny void, and

a fleeting wish.

Unspoken emotions,

spill fluidly
through these cracks,

revealing vapours of

tiny heartaches

and a few unknown facts.

Dividing me today,

into several pieces

that fight to come close,

fight to stay far,

and fight everyday,

unsure of what they are.

A strange attraction

then comes to play,

to a familiar face,

a forgotten name,

a lingering memory,

of a distant place.

Dreams and ambitions,

a powerful rhythm,

a wistful reminder,

of a painful addiction - 

- slice through me 

this invisible weapon.

Enemy and friend,

the illusion of freedom,

and the endless longing

for a home, for a soul - 

- an incomplete saga

of a happiness ever after.

           - Few pages from the story of my pointless quest.

A day of remembering

The beam shines over my retina,

I stare straight at that point,

            …it’s not a dream,

    instantly the saline releases,

I swallow with an aching throat while the scenes soar in my mind.

                What of he who conquered his world?

                    …all that’s left is…

                            …this…

Pity overwhelms the soul,

     Dreams of kings, of vagabonds and freedom…

… and yet…

           Those were just that… dreams

                         Fantasies…

                               Thoughts of the young mind… (I laugh).

There was never a king, nor a globetrotter…

     The leather jacket and booths were just that.

         

Today, the soft soles, the short hair… the cufflinks…

     That is closer to the kingship as there ever was… 

             For one thing, there is kin that was not there…

There are no more beams over my eyes…

No waking to the salty taste of a tear.

The world is as it should be.

And I…

     well…

          …well I’m as close to those dreams, as I’ll ever be…

…and will ever want to be.

Sound of Release

Return me to the time
When the events unfolded
Breathing open air
Weaving a new life

From mother's eyes and nourishing teat
Skipping through nursery gates
Then marching into the folly of youth
I lived for the encouraging days

Moments of joy, fleeting
Games cast asunder
One day, I awoke, a man!
Owning my precious gifts

Haste of years pull me through
Souvenir marked happenings
Line my memory
From child to man, son to father

In final serenity I surmise
All that I was given
Was only to be sown
For the new forefathers

All roads lead to...

The fights we fight

the battles we lose

the losses we cut

the cuts and wounds.

That heal and form

that reform and age

and emerge again

a wiser adage.

A truer moment

an era, a day

the lesser truth, all

fade slowly away -

- but we just rush,

to the finishing line.

Like lost wisdom,

we emerge again

regain our form, and

lay open to pain.

We prepare to cut,

prepare to bruise,

and battle to fight

and fight to lose … 

… another moment

far away,

a love, a life,

another yesterday.

And we just rush,

(but why must we rush?)

to the finishing line.

Once more

Here I go…

again into the unknown.

The surroundings are familiar,

I’ve been here before, but this time is different.

Today, it feels permanent.

Again life is packed,

The road is ready

I just need to go.

I’ve been here before, but this time is different,

I don’t know the words.

How many times will I do it?

How many places will it take?

It feels permanent…

                   …as it has felt before.

Jump into the adventure…

Here I go again…

The weary traveller gets excited once more.

HC

The Bride

She lay there, so ornate

so pristine, 

so fragile

as would a 

calm night

before a storm,

or a lover 

in the glow

of a candle light.

Like the aching 

acceptance of

a prisoner's fate,

like  a precision 

clockwork

never running late.

Like the infinite

reflections of a 

ray of light,

like remorse 

seeping into 

a perfect after-life

She lay there, so still

so beautiful

that night,

as we bid farewell

to the bride.

Pound of flesh

Rapidity I approach the end,

Again the bell raises its tone.

…worms

Rhapsody of dead,

Anthem to the life that will not be.

…worthless

Round and round…

Another chance?

…why?

…in the end all I have is you.

HC

Raw Midst

Seek from where you are
Under the window
Softly threaten in the night
Behind the shadow

Quick eyes cut the darkness
Crouching in the corner
Falling over you
Lend me your shoulder

Nothing but hearts
In the wake of who we were
Chance the moment now
Freedom from the field beckons

Believe the steel promise
Settling for a stroke 
Part the skin's incision 
Feeling the slide

Dividing from this coil
I hush under
Draw me in the end
Sleep plies the candour

Olden of the water



To one of the few living witnesses, an homage…

Amazed at your grandeur I quiver in your shadow.

     Smell of old, smell of water and of dirt.

How to understand your magnificence?

     You just lie still for it all.

Uncountable existences have lain by your shade.

     And innumerable more will pass after my passing.

Encountering your presence I ask…

     …please tell me the stories of old.

How to decipher your silence?

     Watch the sunshine, hear the wind and feel the past.

Unravelling your body takes my mind away.

     One more intricacy of the giant, one more attribute that makes me awe.

Enriched by your existence I stand beside you.

      Proud and strong I feel.

Towards immortality you have pushed our existence.

     Allow me, in the smallest measure, to return this gesture.

Ending these lines I make this homage, Olden of the water.

     Receive my praise, my respect and my love.

Indigo silhouette

I woke to the intense light,

like many times before…

The box was silent, but so was the rest of the room.

A bit confused I started to remember…  

it seems he got the girl at the end… but don’t they always do?

I struggle to find the remote… I ache for the soft mattress and the warm duvet. 

My arm fights to be free, the numbness makes it difficult. 

I start to get annoyed as my sight adjusts to the brightness…

and there you are… not a full you, just the contour of you…

The luminosity bathes your body; black and blue fill my eyes. 

Elegance…

even at the weirdest of posses you manage to ease my numbness.

I believe the bed can wait.



Pyre Light

The smoke, it slowly rises
In the wind it's almost singing
Flames cover the faces
As it's been through the ages

The final knowledge is lost
From the man, at whose cost?
Where's my guardian angel?
There must be a place...somewhere

Brave faced ones begin to listen
The Holy man catches their glimpses 
No need to address us now
For this turn is over


Frightened from the beginning
My duty has been done
The day is finished
Look what I've become 

Silhouette, no more

Smell of gunshots

still pungent

in the air.

Empty pockets

collect scars

and despair.

A distant fire

flickers slowly

and dies,

leaving behind 

a carcass

of the night.

To whom 

we are slaves, 

and you 

the authority

Our lives are but 

a piece of 

your charity.

But when it's time

to reverse

the flow,

we will conquer

the fear, and our

bronze dreams 

will soar… 

We will reclaim

our existence,

our past

and our fate,

and bask in the sun, 

no more 

a silhouette.

Will there be love for you

in our hearts then,

The day we wear 

the same colour again?

Tall Tree

The smoke, it slowly rises
In the wind it's almost singing
Flames cover the faces
As it's been through the ages

The final knowledge is lost
From the man, at whose cost?
Where's my guardian angel?
There must be a place...somewhere

Brave faced ones begin to listen
The Holy man catches their glimpses 
No need to address us now
For this turn is over


Frightened from the beginning
My duty has been done
The day is finished
Look what I've become 

Tree of Eden

My roots dig deep

still in search of

an answer.

My branches reach out

to part the wisdom - 

(mere seeds of change)

I hide the truth

in my shadows,

but for a few

who care.

While my kin,

walk carelessly

over my tears … 

… which fall to earth

soft and velvet -

(flowers of 

vibrant colours)

Bringing back

memories of

the lovers … 

… and of a time, 

when a tree, 

fell in love with a butterfly.

(And bore a fruit

that would 

alter the course

of human life.)

Write here, right now

A few weeks back, this was just an idea. A write club. A place where my friends Hugo, Paresh and I can post our writings, our thoughts, and generally anything which catches our fancy. Over a few beers and my very own version of home cooked Indian meal (with the addition of a hot Mexican salsa made to Hugo's recipe and Paresh's home made 'speciality' ginger cake), we came up with the idea of a blog which will motivate each of us to write more.

For now, we don't really have a concrete structure for the blog, but decided to test the waters with the help of a writing exercise where each of us write about a common topic in our own way- just to get the creative juices flowing! In future though I hope this space will evolve and take shape after our individual personalities.

Over the course of the next few posts I hope you will find out a little more about us, but for now I will stick to the first rule of write club, which forbids us to speak (any more) about it, and instead let the writing do all the talking.

Happy reading and welcome to the club!