Today

Most people are lonely.
Some say they are alone.
I say-"I am with God."

One morning....

I woke
to the murmurs
of my harmonious heartbeat

splashed!!!
My face with a smile

Looked at the sun
& scratched my stubble


In the kitchen
I found
the leftover
of last night’s MOON

&

dipped it in my hot morning tea

“good morning ”-it was her text message as usual

As usual my reply was a –
“”

I scrambled a couple of clouds
Spiced with her thoughts for breakfast.

“bon appetite”-
It was her message once again

Oh yes!!


Last night
we were in a
SPARKLING MOOD
& had made
yummy LOVE

Later
I
had her
kisses for dessert

&

She had a
BITE
Of my left ear

As the night got warmer & delicate
Her phone rang

It was HIM saying-
“am on my way home”


On the way back to
My home
I took a turn
Leading me on to a road of guilt

Her wedding ring
shone on my finger
burning my heart


I look at
My finger
bleeding
water melon


“tonight?”-its she
again

I smile & go back to sleep.

It would be just another night
but
a new one
like other nights

“so long” – I answer her
Siesta


Love?

The Apostle

“Tell me, what do You want from me?”- One day I asked God, who had been following me for years. The Old Man was taken aback. Having recovered His composure, He smiled and said-“ Whatever you could give me.”

I told Him I had no money to give Him for I hardly earned at all. He nodded.

I told Him I had nothing that I could call my own. Right from my clothes to the house that I lived in. “ Not even the girls/women…they always belonged to others!”- I added with a naughtiness that is all my own.

He smiled once again with a certain understanding.

“ Come on Old Man, You’ve been following me since I was born and You’ve seen me grow up to become whatever I have. I don’t need to tell You anything except that I must confess You’ve been a great follower. Everytime I have looked back, there You were… like a Disciple. So Dear Friend, could You be more specific about what You want from me?”

He simply looked at me for what seemed like eternity and then said, with that eternal smile of His-“ I just got what I wanted. Thank you.”

I then offered Him my hand and He took it in His and shook it.

I winked at Him, turned and started walking again. A few steps later I turned and looked.

Yes. He was there. Following me like always.

I shook my head and resumed walking. It felt good to know I had a Follower.

The Joker

[A translation of a song written in hindustani “ Haadson ke bavan patte…”]


Fifty two cards of incidence
A few hands you lose, a few hands you win
Those who do not understand this game suffer
The wise is truly “the joker”!

True, the table never changes
But if you play the cards in your hand well enough
Then the sun will rise within
For in the darkness dreams shatter

Those who do not understand this game suffer
The wise is truly “the joker”!

Fifty two cards of incidence
Fifty two seasons of life
1 2 3 4 5
6 7 8 9 10
A jack, a queen and a king

Thirteen cards in your hand
There are thirteen cards in my hand
So let’s play together
With these fifty two cards

Red and black
These wonderful pack of fifty two cards
They act in such colorful ways
The heart and the spade, the club and the diamond

Those who do not understand this game suffer
The wise is truly “the joker”!

Hangover thoughts

Don’t try to hold me in your hand
I am the ocean
Please don’t burn me
When I am still alive.

The relationship existed only
In the mind
Please do not accuse the heart
For love’s failure.

You broke my heart and
I found my temple of bliss
Where the eternal lamp of pain
Burns ever so bright.

Neither can I understand
The desire of my silence
Nor the cry of my words-
How tight have you embraced me, my beloved!

I close my eyes and see
A little home
And a long road leading up to it
I should walk,let me walk, the distance.

A Song of Seduction

Your tresses-
your dark black tresses
falling over your nape…

Kisses-
Your wet long kisses
I merely stand and gape…

Your bosom… where dwells your heart
Heaves with the rhythm of my heart

As I bite your ear
Yes, my dear
Your fingernails press my skin like knives

As I caress your nipple with my thumb
You whisper-“ I am going numb…”

And they blossom
Oh! Awesome
As you rub your cheek against mine

And those kisses-
Those tongue twining kisses
And we delicately close our eyes

Your hand moves down between my legs
You laugh and say-“lets hit the deck…”

As I hear those words
I see two birds
Fly in a harmonious flight

One from your heart
And one from my heart
And they traverse our sensuous sky

Oh your tresses…
And your kisses….
Hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm….

She has found her man and its not me.

Nobody talks anymore about her to me. Maybe everyone is being courteous or may be they have finally given upon me. I don’t blame them. Its difficult to understand my kind of love. It took me, myself a few years to come to terms with it. Those days and nights of turmoil and agony! Looking back I can sort of find a certain romance in those moments though.

Yesterday I saw a photograph of her sitting with her boyfriend watching the final of the world cup. She seemed happy. He seemed happier. I smiled and went out and ordered a glass of iced tea. The summer is in and the day is hot and humid.

I sat there wondering with a smile that was trying to prove its faithfulness. “ Does she remember me at all?”- and I heard a voice inside me say-“ Does it matter.” This response was followed by another question-“ Will I ever be able to forget her?” And again a voice inside me answered-“ Does it matter.”

She has every right to forget me in the same way that I have the privilege of remembering her. The heart has its own logic. I believe that both of us have a great understanding. Still.

In the evening as I sat with a friend over a pint of beer, I saw a young couple cuddling in a corner and once again I was reminded of her. And of course her man.

“ Is he the right man for her?” – I found myself asking this question. I had read somewhere that her family had accepted him so he must really be a nice guy. But I can’t accept him. I know that. I am not that large hearted. “ So would that mean she rejected you ‘cause she has a small heart?” – The voice inside me suddenly raised this question.

“ No. She rejected me ‘cause I had a small heart. A heart that was incapable of love. Its her kindness that she broke it. For it opened me up. Yet, right now I feel as if I need to break it again. With my own hands. Its not right that even after talking about my love being so pure and true I fail to accept the man she loves. Why is it that I can’t accept the person who makes her happy? Maybe my love is failing me. Maybe I have failed my love. I should learn to accept him.”

All these thoughts are going through my mind as I sit and talk to this friend and suddenly I tell him –“ You know I love a woman who does not love me. But it doesn’t matter. I feel her presence in her absence…”

He likes what he hears and says so.

How pretentious am I? Am I not merely fooling myself? He is definitely a better man than me. Maybe she could see through me. Thank God, she is saved.

I gulp down another pint of beer sitting with that faithful smile of mine. And suddenly the music sounds louder.

And I find solace in Ludwig Wittgenstein.