Truth

What does it takes to confess?
Guts?
So let me. Today.
I am all that I hate.
All that I never wanted to be.
But unfortunately I am.
So I have accepted it and I am living it.
Living it in the best possible way that I can.
I am a coward.
I run away from difficulties.
I want it all easy.
I push people away from me, because I know I cannot give them what they expect from me.
I live in this imaginary world which I have created for myself and make others believe it is true.
I blame others, my life, my situation for everything that I failed at.
Truth is I never tried hard enough.
I dont have the guts to do it.
I victimise myself in front of others and try to gain their sympathy.
I only cry in front of people.
I am over-rated.
I am an imposter, a liar, a total fake.
I am that malignant bacteria that thrives on negativity.
A quitter.
I am all that.
Yes I am.

The Other Side

“…Pro nutra will leave your skin blemish free and glowing within minutes of its application.”
The lady with the perfectly set teeth and flawless skin grinned at the invisible audience and continued prattling in her sing song tone.

It was 3:47 at night and there on the couch in front of the television lay a frail human structure, staring at the screen, with eyes sunk deep in their sockets. Sofia, was not watching the tv. She just stared into the vacant space between her eyes and the tv set.

Things at office were not going well. Carol, her fellow junior editor’s suicide had shaken her to the core. It had already been a week since Carol’s demise but Sofia had not yet been able to digest the truth.

Carol. The one person who was Sofia’s support system at office was no more alive.

Everybody liked Carol. She had been such a lovely person to be with. A cute charming face and a happy demeanor had made Carol everybody’s go-to person. It was the same with Sofia too. Sofia and Carol had hit off a great camaraderie since day one. Personally too they had become great friends. But now Carol was gone, leaving Sofia with a million unanswered questions.

Sofia knew, Carol was not someone to commit suicide. She had no reason to. Sofia was sure that if there was anything bothering Carol, she would have told her. Still the autopsy had declared that it was a suicide. Her death had gravely affected Sofia. It was the thought of Carol’s suicide that had squandered away her sleep. It had been days since Sofia had slept properly.

She knew something was wrong. Carol committing suicide was not something she could digest easily. Grief existed. The loss was unfathomable and something that could not be evened out in anyway. But the doubts and questions related to Carol’s death kept haunting her all the time. They were gnawing her away from inside. And it was the same tonight.

It had been a troublesome day at work today. Nothing had gone right. Sofia had missed an important deadline and had almost lost an important client. Her boss, who was concerned by her state, had thus gently asked her to take the day off and had advised to take rest.But rest and peace were things which were no where in sight for Sofia.

It was a warm night and in her dazed state Sofia had forgotten to open the windows. She had started feeling suffocated, therefore she finally got up from the couch, turned off the tv with the remote and trodded towards the kitchen. She took out a water bottle from the refrigerator and after taking a swig, carried it across her living room. She traced the path towards the living room window. The glass reflected a ghastly face looking back at her. She ignored her reflection and concentrated outside.

Outside, the street was dark and deserted. At a distance, a dimly lit thin lamp-post stood. In the little light that the lamp-post threw, Sofia could make out insects swirling in it. She could hear loud crying of a pack of dogs from somewhere, but they were no where to be seen. Their howling made the hair on her neck stand on the edge. Inspite of it being hot, a chilling shiver ran down her body.

Something wrenched in her gut. Sofia knew something was not right. “Why Carol?” she spoke out aloud to the window, her voice filled with exasperation and eyes brimmed with confusion and tears. She shut her eyes, trying to contain the tears and rested her forehead on the cool surface of the window glass, her right palm fisted into a ball rested on the glass too. The dogs outside had stopped howling and an eerie silence settled around her. Another cold shiver ran down her spine.

Right outside the window, stood a form, with pale lifeless face, staring right at Sofia, through its vacant eyes. Its hand exactly at the place where Sofia’s hand was placed. It stood there lightly floating in the air, expressionless, silently watching the woman on the other side.

Red

Cut me,
let the blood drip.
One, two, three drops,
each with a story
of its own.

I don’t own them,
they belong not to me,
but to the guts
of the one that
took my bullet to his head.

It smells of her
to whose courage
was I a witness
the dark skinned
dame that got despoiled.

They no more live,
burnt they are;
their brown tones
charred to the soil
the same red murk.

Of fair lines I am,
despicably white
cut me deep
and open me wide
and speak of what you find;

do not beguile
for every soul knows
it is the same;
not brown, not fair,
but red.

Love?Too less?Too much?

You would wait.
You are of that kind,
hopelessly hopeful.
You would smile and wait.
You would draw hearts, tiny, little doodles.
Of his name too.
And then you would wander away in oblivion,
lost in the memories,
of times when he looked at you,
like you were some kind of angel who had descended from blue skies.
I bet that was what he told you. 
Was it?
You would blush.
You are that. 
The hopeless romantic.
You would wait.





You could take it no more.
You want to walk away, 
and not look back.
At all
You can no more take the smiles,
the care,
that nauseous sweetness of her.
It has started tasting bitter now,
like some bitter green slobbing slime
churning inside of you.
What has she become?
Why?
You have no answers.
You want to vanish away.
From her life.
Run away from her.
You cannot breathe.
You are choking.
You need some air.
You need redemption.
Of yourself.
You cannot wait.


You are not yourself.
You changed yourself.
For him.

You are not yourself.
She is changing you.
She wants you to.


What went wrong?
Love?
Too less?
Too much?

I need You

What consolation you have for me today?
Is it about how this life is to be lived?
About the you-are-not-a-failure speech?
Are you here to make me smile?
To let me know that everything will be alright?

No I don’t want to know any of these. 
If you want to tell me anything, 
tell me why I cannot sleep,
tell me why I feel alone,
tell me what is lacking in me,
and tell me only if you are sure. 

No you are not at fault,
It is me. 
It is this dreary being I see
in the mirror everyday.
Having everything and yet not content. 
The indecisive one,
the one who cannot lead,
the one who would nod her head easily,
the one who didn’t say No 
when she had to. 
The one still living the American dream. 

No point for you to be here,
as your consolations would all be in vain.
They will blot inside of me and 
drip away too
And I will ricochet back again
to the grey spaces.

Still if you need to be here
would you listen to me?
Would you hug me tight?
I may even cry for a while,
would you bear with me 
and let me cry?

Because I may say 
I don’t need you,
but I don’t know that
and I would deny it,
the fact, the truth
that I really need you. 

I need your words because 
mine fail me.
I need those smiles 
because it is too painful 
for me now to smile on my own.
I want you to tell me how this 
life needs to be lived.
And to let me know that
everything will be alright.

I need you. I do.

Hauntings

The flow of the red
Through the blank metaphors,
The galloping words
Through the dark forests,
The heated ridges
Those vagrant thoughts,
I understand not.

Disillusioned I seek
I crawl, I scribble,
A train of frayed
Letters disarrayed,
Breathing in the
Venomous lethal snare
That suffocating heavy air.

Its hung on the hook,
An unending dreaded loop,
A dejection that scars,
A defection that bars,
The words succumb,
Wilting and crumbling ,
A death slow, silent and numb.

Venom

Since childhood she was told that “M” was next to her mother in her life. But reality was something else. M wasn’t next to her mother. M wasn’t even in the list of people she would call even if she was in the gravest of danger. She despised her. M instigated her mother against her. M was the reason she could never be the friend to her mom that she always wanted to be. Quite early in life, rather as a kid itself, she realised what M was up to. But till date she hasn’t been able to figure out the reason why. She wanted to tell everybody about what M was doing. But she was just a kid and so no one believed her. Distanced from the one person she loved the most in the world, she lived on. She used to yearn for her mom to love the way she wanted her to, but M was there, constantly, by her mother’s side.

It has been years since then. Lot of things have changed now. The broken bridges have been built again. Her mom loves her, in exactly the same way she wants her to. They are friends now. Mother and daughter. But the bitterness of 18 years towards M still remains. M hasn’t stopped. M is still the same. probably more vicious. This bitterness bothers her. At times. It has soured her feelings towards M. She is not able to forgive M. Though for the sake of the clan she masks her bitterness and turns it into cordiality. Would she ever be able to forgive M?

On the flipside, but for the viciousness of M, she wouldn’t have realised how much she loves her mother. But then again there is this fact that if she would have stuck to what M did to her long time back, these words wouldn’t have seen the light of the day.

Is there way to forgive someone for all the bad that they have done to you, and continue to do so? Ok I agree that the actions aren’t there anymore but what about thoughts? How can you stop thinking that the person doesn’t think bad about you anymore? How to not judge their actions in the darkness of the past? How to see good in them? How to not doubt them? How to let go off the bitterness?

It isn’t easy. Not at all. There is this bitterness, that continuously throbbing gashes of hatred that keep spewing blood. How to heal them?

Letting go is easy but Forgiveness isn’t.

Longing

There is a desire

that resides in my eyes
to see you smile
with those stars in them.

There is a need
that flickers my fingers
to carve you through
words never read before.

A want to embrace
the wind that caresses
the lines of fate
in your palm
to write that destiny
with mine.

But i know you are
nothing but a mere dream,
a rainbow touching
the horizon that never meets.

An illusion of this mind
A mirage of this deserted life.
Solace of just my dreams.
Ripples on the water,
touched and yet untouched.

The Call

“So, what’s happening?”

“I am down with a bad cold.”  replied a hoarse voice.

“Did you visit the doc?”

“Yep.”

A short answer again. What was with her, he wondered. She had been acting strange off late. One-word answers, short conversations, hanging up the call abruptly.

“Hey, talk to you later. My throat is aching badly.”

Consumed in her guilt, as she disconnected the call. She cringed her toes, her feet cold with the cold that had settled inside the house or in her heart, she knew not.

“Get well soon sweetheart” he spoke to the disconnected call.

Last Thoughts

As I sit in the corner
of this bed, I try to sort
the clutter in my head.
I make no move,
just gulp that lump
in the throat,
the walls of which
still taste sweet
from the essence
of that vanilla cake.
The signs of light
no more here
and in some distance
a croaking motorcycle
rumbles.
Its 12.30.
A crow sits amidst
the white patched
leaves of the tree
the branches of which
run into my balcony.
It crows and stills
and does again.
I step out,
into the cold night.
A last rendezvous
with these steps,
In quest of a lost
slumber.
Me and the crow
that crows into
the night.
Both awake,
Both haunted.