Falling

Falling

Falling is almost always painful, be it in love or in the tumult of a whirlpool. Even when the fall is spontaneously reciprocated by the other side, love’s sad satiety imbues the union with a sour taste of emptiness. How mundanely blessed our lives would be, had falling been all there is to love. But hell no, it is not even the beginning of love, let alone the end. Then, what is love – surely neither the possession of a pretty face or the right of petting, nor the means of convenience to run in the rats’ scuttle. Zeus had no love for Hera, nor did Aphrodite for limping Hephaestus. Rather, true love is nothing but a complete and absolute annihilation of one’s ego, desires and prejudice. That is why I have always been in love with the goddess of the hunt, my dear Artemis!

 

Yesterday, a friend asked me, how many times I have been in love. What could I have said in return? Usually one expects to hear a number after asking a question like that. Once upon a time I too tallied but since 2012 I have lost the count. After betting on the wrong side and earning bankruptcy at the gambling deck of life in that year, I have been living on love. Life became covertly simple. Each day began with a fervent hope that at night I would not come back to my bed, alive. Disappointingly, every day I did. Then at nights, before losing consciousness I prayed to make this night my last one, being too tired to witness another rising sun and shoulder the shackles that dogged life’s territorial woes. That pining too was done in vain.

 

However, in between the end and beginning of those daily doses of unconsciousness, love kept digging pits for me at every twist and turn. I too responded gaily, falling in each of them without any second thoughts, that too at the first sight. In most of the cases despite the fall I survived with just a few cuts and bruises. In more than a few though, I bled to death before crawling up to the ground with my teeth and nails. I had to. Afterwards, only a few words, perhaps a complete line or two if luck happened to be with me that day, remained. A few of such fall culminated in a poem. Honestly, each of those sagas felt like a marriage to me where I, the wife, after conceiving, had been forced to live on my own with a child, the poem, growing inside my heart and soul.

 

Five years later, now, the pages of my life are teeming with more than a thousand such children, sired by love and borne by me. Yet I shall boldly claim that there is and has always been only one Krishna in my dreams. It is I whose perceptions, like Radha, have evolved and changed with time. So, human beings truly can fall in love once and once only, no matter how many faces might push them over the edge in life!


 

I Long For The Rain

I Long For The Rain

The fog of foreplay has succumbed.
I hear the penetrating clouds
approaching towards my bay in the south,
to wreak havoc on my moist land –
all the way from my swelling waters to
the taut peaks of my solid, heaving breasts!
I long for the rain, for the wetness too
and feel it soak me to my core!
Close your eyes, can you smell the musky wind,
the throbbing of the flood, the coming petrichor?

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On The Fly

On The Fly

Look at a mirror,
what do you see? Kohl rimmed eyes
that cast a dazzling look? A smile
that pales all that glitters in this world?
Cascading locks as dark as the night?
But do you see a human face?
Be a human first, if you must
attain the truest form of beauty!
Take no pride or joy
in an antisocial existence!
In a society, mostly comprised of
opportunistic and oppressive people
who oppose individual liberty,
has it not been always inevitable?

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A Straight Line

A Straight Line

My heart aches, to see myself morph into
a straight line from the old triangular shape,
a form, I had grown so comfortable with
but dreaded change is the sole constant of things!

I have never had circumference as
one of my vital properties, unless
one considers the entire breadth and width
and height too, of the visible universe!

Even in my rare lucid dreams, if I
had ever imagined a curving line
being drawn by Fate around my existence,
the center remained on the other side!

The snarling faces will never relent
from across the mirror, jeering at life,
so, no matter what, why should I resent,
being a full circle, a throbbing triangle or a straight line!

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So, The Sun

So, The Sun

So, the sun did not rise today.
It is true that the sun is not bound to
rise for illuminating me everyday
but still my heart pursues,
still at my back I hear rats’ feet
scuttling blind on heaps of dead bones!

With dusk the darkness literally moans,
cold, endless and alone, overwhelming
my senses with her teary eyes!
Save those nights once or twice a moon,
when the sun remains up at the sky until dawn,
I have been half in love with darkness through my life!

We live in a strange time, I think, (don’t you?)
with state of the art devices
in primitive hands, governed by a mind,
even wiser than those in age,
ruled by what the diodes showed and said,
unless eternal time has always been like this!

What should I do? What shall I ever do?
When would Time cease to throw her poisoned darts at me?
Fetch me my hemlock, I should better go
and drown, to renounce life in Lethe’s serene flow!

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