The sky colored kurta

The sky colored
Kurta
With printed patterns
The outlined
Almond shaped
Dark brown
Eyes
Her hair tied up
In a bun
Her sleek body
Her elegant vibe
Calling me
Over her table
Her pretty
Sleek and long
Fingers
Her smile
Of that of
A bird's first chirp
In the morning
Of a gloomy day
Her nose
Like that of
Morning dew
On grass
That felt
Neglected
Her skin
Like that of
First sun ray
In the house
Of the less fortunate
So special
Her everything
So special
This moment is
For in the next
I might not have her
But in this
We are connected still.

Shaping up

It was
The scent
Of her lotion
That reminded
Me of her
Heavy breathing
From that night
Of the sight
Of her hair falling
Down from the bed

While my hands
Held her thighs
And i could
Taste
Her wetness
Her sighs
Slurping
Sliding
Heating up

Sensitivity
Steaming up
From her
Spine to
Her eyes

Her eyes
Rolling up
She lay
Shaping up
Memories

Good memories.

Ticking

Once upon a time, a man had swallowed a time bomb. It ticked inside, loud and clear. He didn't plan on swallowing something so dangerous, he had already been in love before, and now this. The bomb was hidden inside a doughnut. What does a man do in front of a warm doughnut? No one even chews one anymore. 

His name was Adam; as cliched as it gets. His wasn't a soul that worried about what others thought about him. His was a soul of discovery. He discovered many things while sitting in one spot all the time. He never felt the need to really go and look for new things. He had realised that until you change from within, you are not really roaming around. He would sit and observe and wait for a revolution to happen within. Unfortunately he got what he wished for. 

"How long do you have?" his friend asked him. "How long do YOU have?" he asked his friend the same, feeling disgusted with the kind of question that was thrown at him. "Im just trying to help" his friend said in agony. How does one help in such cases anyway.

 "You are standing 30 feet away from me, how is this helping me?" he questioned.

 "Why the hell didnt you chew the fucking doughnut?" said his friend, sounding confused.

"I'm about to blow up here and THIS is not helping!

 "Well what about your wife? she'd need someone to take care of her right?"

 "Can't you say better things right now? what kind of a friend are you?"

 "you are right, I should be more loyal to you, and honest"

"What do you mean?"

"I slept with your wife"

"Really? I am about to die here!!"

"Which is why I thought you should know"

"How many times?"

"Umm... you'd rather die without knowing, how do you know its a time bomb anyway?"

"Well, its ticking inside me, SO I KNOW ITS A BOMB!"

Adam's wife came rushing to that one place where he always sat and where he had discovered his 'inner revolution' just now.

"Honey i think i dropped the dial of my watch while making doughnuts for you! I hope you figured!"

"It was your watch?" he exclaimed 

"Shit" his friend whispered to himself

"You swallowed it? How could you? Didn't you chew your doughnut?"

"Forget it"

Sailing rocks

Do we follow patterns (good or bad) or patterns follow us, is still a mystery. The decisions we make in our lives fulfil someone else's manifestation of their own dream and their actions fulfil ours. The roller coaster of fear, happiness, sadness, envy, excitement and all other emotions never stops within. At times we want it to just calm the fuck down, breathe, and just be; which is always followed up with something in contrast to it. Excitement, anger, depression, going crazy, falling in love, feeling hurt and so many other contrasts that there is no end. We naturally begin to defy the 'new'. It is important that the 'new' stays. Taking things for granted has different levels and the only ladder through which it goes up is our ego.

What if this reality is actually just a dream? An often asked question... what if the only reason we are alive is not yet to be understood? In meditation, surrendering ego is the first step. What happens after you lose your identity while still being awake? there is no body, there is no mind, there is no future or past. For that brief moment in time, you are nothing more than a rock in the middle of a desert and the rock is alive. In that silence, you realise that consciousness is not just limited to things that grow or that we consider to be alive. 

When a seed germinates, the only thing it has is potential. The body it acquires, the color, the texture, everything about it comes from the combination of the basic elements of life that our planet is made of. We can only be naive to think that what contributes to it being born isnt alive. Mona lisa isn't itself a person, it is an expression of someone else's creativity. We are an expression too. As we express our own emotions through different mediums like writing or art or dance, to a certain level it is for the audience; it is for the audience until we learn its language and are fluent in that particular language.

 This universe or multiverse whatever it is, expresses itself through colors which we could only see if we had eyes, the sounds, which we could only hear since we had ears, textures that we could touch, food we could taste knowledge that we could understand; everything makes us realise that we were born by it to it for it. We are a language being spoken, a poem being read, a river flowing, a candle burning, "it is all happening". You are the creation by the creation for the creation. Once we accept this, everything starts to make sense. 

Glowing

Glowing worms
Inside a ball

A ball made 

Of glass

With colors

Blue and green

Were there

To make it last

These worms 

Still lost

Inside the

Ball of glass

How did 

They get inside

What was 

Their past?

No one to help

And no one to guide

No future to seek

No past to hide

In this ball

Made of glass

These worms 

Growing fast

But whats 

The point?

 

Grow and then?

It finishes when?

What happens?

Who wins?

Always seeking wins.

The glowing worms

Trembling 

To the beats of

Time

To the nature 

Of slime

Being what they 

Can be

Seeing what they

Can see

Entering zen

One by one

 

Beginning to be

The ball of glass

Color after color

Blue after green

And after 

They have been

To their future

And past

The ball of glass

Becomes them

At last. 

Becoming

Looking for
Little corners
For my secret
Madness

Things that would
Comfort it
-Would let it be
Things like coffee
Cigarettes
Alcohol
Movies
Pot
Travel
Poetry

Places where
I can't be seen
But still mean
Something
Becoming objects
Of the frame
Of a stranger's eye
Easily missed
And just being

Looking for
New people
For my secret madness
People that would
Comfort it
Would let me be
People like you
Me
Silent
Strange
Fun
Ordinary
Simple
People with whom
I can be
And mean something

Becoming children
Of our own self

In a way
Becoming significant
In front
Of our own
Eye