Hello Darkness, My Old Friend!

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend!

… And Darkness, my old friend, himself
opened the door to his house on my second knock.
He greeted me with a wry smile on his lips
and a glass of whiskey, in his hand, on the rocks.

 

With my eyes, bloodshot and swollen,
with dried out trails of tear on both my cheeks,
I tried hard to forge a smile as best as I could,
but my friend put his other hand on my shoulder,
ushering me inside, he closed the door behind
and said, “Do not fake a smile when you cannot laugh!”

 

The ensuing silence hovered in the air,
as we walked through the hallway to his living room.
There we sat across a wooden table, dark and round,
he gave me a knowing look and I heaved a sigh!

 

A soothing smile slowly spread on his face,
like moonlight spreads over a passing cloud,
his voice grew as deep and calm as the Pacific
as he said, “Why have you sought me out, my dear friend?
I see you are troubled by some thoughts,
tell me, what can I do to put your mind at ease!”

 

“It is a vision” I said with another sigh,
more audible this time and he squinted his eyes a little,
as if his world gets darker when a sigh is heaved.
Nevertheless I carried on, “that keeps recurring
every time I close my eyes to sleep.
In that vision I see, topless towers
burning hot and fiery red, falling down,
dragging me down with them into the pit below.
I keep falling until jolted out of my slumber,
bare moments before I’m engulfed in that flame too.”

 

“So you wake up with your throat parched and dry,
wishing somehow you had never closed your eyes.”
Said my friend, as if he was present there,
when I was trembling in my bed, in shock and fear
like the wreckage left by a vicious storm
after the haunting vision had raged through my brain.

 

“Yes, you are right,” I said, “but tell me please,
if you know of a remedy for my disease…”
“Of course,” He cut me short and said, “I do!
You need time; it is only time that can heal you.
I do not how much time you have remaining in your hand
but this I know, if you have enough you’d be healed, my friend!”


 

My Roving Brain

My Roving Brain

For K. Azz. on her Birthday

 

“Happy, happy wishes for you, my friend…”
Sings a voice from inside my roving brain,
another wails like a time ravaged soul,
“But will you and have we ever be old?”

 

I thought I had killed both Prometheus and his dreams,
long ago and buried them deep down the rocky ground
that I thought my mind and heart had become, but woe
they were only suspended in a cryogenic sleep!

 

“Have they begun to stir now from their slumbering?”
Yet another voice asks, inside my head,
in harmony with the song, still being sung,
“… and wishing many many joyous returns,
may your thoughts grow wiser still with each day,
but may your heart remain forever young…”

 

Meanwhile, a thousand more voices, both low and high,
keep voicing their own concerns, not in whispers though
but each trying to have the floor only for itself,
trying to be the lone voice that can be heard.
Sometime one succeeds and I hear a word or two,
mostly though, it is just a noise, both pure and white.

 

Then Prometheus opened his large and dreamy eyes,
and the world knew, this god-man who had brought fire down
to the succeeding rulers of earth as their crown,
was much, much less troubling than his insolent dreams.
(It was one of those that made him do what he did,
to coronate humans as future queens and kings.)

 

“What! He walks now? Kill him! Kill him!” cries another,
shrieking like a spinster, one too many times wronged.
“Kill him! Kill him now, I say, before he can come
and make you like him with a bare touch!” She carried on.

 

Then I could hear his footsteps in my head,
approaching me, the sound was drawing near.
I could not help but shrink, being too afraid,
for I had dreamed before and met its sneer.
Suddenly I caught a flash, wheezing by;
was it a real spear thrown by Death himself?
Perhaps it was all a dream, a figment
of my restless imagination, soaring high,
so high, the sun has melted its feathers down
and now it must fall to its uncharted grave!

 

The silence that followed was far more deafening!
All the voices stopped and their complains too,
even the one singing to my friend took a pause,
that was not what I had thought in the beginning!

 

In that silence I realized the footsteps,
I had shrunk from in my fear for the coming days,
was ringing no more through the corridors
of my roving brain. I grew wary for the man.
In desperation I searched all over the realm
of my thoughts for mighty Prometheus and his dreams;
all in vain! No body was found and no blood stains!

 

Nevertheless, the silence made me look outside,
past the grid of iron bars on my balcony
and the sky was silver blue from the glowing moon,
the wind smelling fresh from few recent bouts of rain.

 

And at last, a single voice, the one that sang, resumed
singing the remainder of the song to my friend.
The melody filled my heart with a light again,
“We are what we are not despite but because of
our ways, unfit, perhaps for our time or this place,
perhaps there is a grander scheme, or there is naught!
Still we must fight each day and night, with blood and tear –
growing stronger than we were yesterday.
I wish you may find courage in these humble, rugged lines
my dear friend, to blossom anew each and every year!”


 

Should I Then…

Should I Then…

After the batting eyelashes,
after the damp, unblinking gaze,
after the fleeting eyes
followed by a soundless and broken sigh,
should I then take her hands in mine?

After the caresses of the shivering touch,
after the exploring breaths’ thorough search
along her entire existence,
after Love’s unbound whispers till her land,
should I then lose her in the pouring grains of sand?

.


 

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!

.


 

By Time

By Time

By the cold ticking hands of time I swear,
I have never held a grudge against anyone
save myself, my bitter self, too eager
always, to rectify and looking for the sun
even within the heaviest, darkest cloud!

   

By the unforgiving hands of time I promise,
there shall not be a tremor at my heart
for anything even a little less than what is
the origin of all the things and love,
anymore, I swear, so you’d better have no doubt!

  

By the ever gyrating hands of time I guarantee
this time around no well would ever cascade into springs!
I am the garden, unseeded, whose flowers’ knell has been rung,
fading away. So, break my heart for I must hold my tongue!

.