2 in 1 Scribbles

do you sometimes feel it too,

chords strummed,
drums clanging,

a
jazzybluesygrassey,

thud-thudding of your heart,

beating, banging,
clanging like the tolling bell,

seeking release,
from the mortal shroud,

as the curtains fall,
over rapturous hurrahing,

down at city hall,

attaining atonement perhaps,

attaining the value of patience,

perched on top,

a
lone,
cloud …

come take a stroll with me,
to your piece of heaven,

be it the bylanes of your childhood,
or the alleyways of your youth,

come take a stroll with me,
to your abode of peace,

a gurgling brook trickling down distant mountains,

the roar of the oceans lappin, caressing your feet,

come take a stroll with me,
down blinding highways of lost smiles,

across empty deserts, sapping already famished wills.

come with me,
and i will stand by you,

so,
come along with me,

where we may be,
at last,

finally,
free to be …

scabbards

scabbards.

1.

aren’t we all,
at the heart of it all,

just scabbards.

mere,
just,

vessels,
into which,

we pour
our hope, love, fear,
desire, prejudice, anger,

scabbards all,
right at the heart of it all,

filled to the hilt,

brimming with jingoistic murderousness,

bloated on bigoted hair-trigger rage,

primed,
ready to slay,

in the name of something someone,

some entity deity belief oldage, newagey, or thought-up yesterday,

sounding needlingly familiar,

a few words,
names,
hearsay,

primed,
coded,

prepped to slay,
itching to strike,

that
first blow,

shock & awe!

drawing first blood,

drop by drop,
bleeding out,

blood spilled,
again, and again.

2.

the colour of the bloody rivers in flood:

red.

red to the hilt,
brimming the scabbards,

scabbards,

mere,

and finally,
just maybe,

perhaps,

just.

the glitterati

the glitterati feast,

neatly,
dismembered spirits,

salving consciences,
bidding to
purchase redemption,

for continuing crimes,
that don’t make the headlines,

business as usual,

the glitterati,
lost in a fine-wine haze,

sparkling carats dazzling,

leaving the dregs behind,

as the
blindness slowly slithers,
sinking talons,
gnawing at the bone,

while the sweaty, bloody,
the pained,
lost,
the far, far too many

batter and shatter,
hacking away,

deep beneath our gleaming golden city

for pieces of glittering stone

talkin’ walkin’ along blues

talkin’ walkin’ along blues …

been a-walking awhile,
seen much,
heard bits,
scraps of yarns,
spun around the fires,

igniting cores,
huffing at social mores,
while a-walking along,
donning the masks,
of the strong,

in this cesspool,
where people fester in swamps,
because they isn’t anyplace else,

it was always all just fairytales,
meant to placate,

to buy time,
before truth portrays,

the real crime,

till then,
whenever the when,

betraying scars,
of endless wars,

to protect you,
as tsunamis flog hearts,
&
emotions like a whip,
cracks and lashes,

ashes to ashes,
dust to dust,

ashes in the breeze,
dust back interred,

the charade,
the party,

at all costs,
&
everhence,

preserved.

the happy face

coming up …

surfacing,
washed ashore,

gasping,
wracked in bronchospasm,

swallowing every breath,
hungrily, manically,

feeling my eyes clear,
sounds and smells filtering back,

edgily,
languidly,

between lungfulls of air,

and an emptiness left behind,

torn between spaces,
illegally alien,

to oneself,

the most desolate place,
sometimes,

lies beneath the veneer,

of the ever smiling, happy face

for delhi

for delhi
( meri dilli meri jaan)

in anticipation,
of a touch, a caress,

something tugs, straining,

luring me,
back through the smoky mists of bygone days,

magically transporting me,

my memory,

to monsoon drenched days in ol’ delhi town,

your hand in mine,
hidden in plain sight,

lost in the starburst,
of many a shared diwali night,

summers of,

‘borrowed’ scooters,

gol-gappas in the connaught rain,

bicycle rides to the melas,

rewinding that one song over and over again,

after racing to your home:

(I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight.

and i have been dying a bit,
little each day,

since you,
& i,

journeyed as we all must,

you, remaining stoic, still,

as

still
i make my own way …

lost, i am …

lost, i am …

i am lost,
have been for quite a while,

cast aside,
tossed,
amongst the rubble,
of those of us who didn’t work hard enough,

study as much,

slog and strain like the good people i see,

walking past me,
everyday,

thinking to myself,
where did i go wrong,

was i not as strong,
as the good people i see,

who walk past me,

feigning ignorance,
or maybe not,

perhaps just not being able to see,

my tattered rags,
my blistered mouth,
my feet, bruised and scabbed,

my soul, my dignity,
savaged, and stabbed,

so i am lost,
in this ocean of humanity,

that walks past me,
everyday,

and it still gnaws, i have to say,

after all these years,
having shed my quota of tears,

it is i,
who embodies these good peoples fears,

why,
i still ask,

why don’t you see me?

the other half

the other half.

dregs, urchins,
the unwashed,

people,
almost, though not quite …

epithets pummel the pummelled,

elements torment the tormented,

hate, mistrust,
conceit, greed,

yours and mine,

fuels:

the diesel of hate,
the anthracite of apathy,
the hybrid greed:

as the beast of indifference gouges,

for the beast has needs,

it hungers,
it scavenges,

it continues,
evermore,

to feed.

smile

let us walk,
knowing not the paths ahead,

let us talk,
knowing not each others tongues,

let us breathe,
the simple joys of life,
away from shredding strife,

so, take my hand,
in yours,

and let us walk and talk,

through many tears,
and an occasional smile,

as we walk on,
and on,

past our final mile …

the city

the city …

leaving behind,
tears, fears,
of unknown tomorrows,

of lifes nettles strewn along the paths we tread,

far far away, from the numbing dread,

the despair, isolation, the damp sorrow,

while the city,
ravenously guzzles,

souls,
spirits,
hearts,
minds:

the city,
never sated,

ever prowling,
to be fed.

high …

wishing i could take your hand,

and walk away from these walls that close in,

suffocating hopes, living and breathing within,

us all,
human beings,
just people,

like you and i,
so close, so very near,

yet exiled by infinite sky,

always seeking release,
freedom,

as we rake the dust,
ready to soar,

up high …

fleas

sweltering,
trapped,

saltwater all around,
fleeing death,

surviving death on the seas,

to be greeted,

as fleas.

scars

the nights of desolate fear, may have passed,

the days of infinite trepidations, may have waned,

yet the scars remain,

as does the pain …

the fabric of time …

when will i see your smile,
near me,

feeling your warm breath against mine,

when will i feel your touch,
beside me,

peppering your kisses with saffron whispers,

when will i hear you,
your lips against mine,

cajoling me, again,
to wait,
just
a little
longer,

while i whisper back,

knowing the hunger,
to remain stronger,
painting on the smile,
of the mirthful dream-monger,

while keeping at bay,

the raging cauldron
ablaze,
within my being entire,
sizzling, scorching me to the marrow,

the unsaid charade,
theatre for the conscience,
played out,
and in,

just beneath the veneer,

of dreams,
of you,

cascading through,

seducing the fabric of our shared time,

so clear,
crytallised, pristine,
delicate,

yet, yet,
steely,

and
sheer.

why …

will we ever know why,

people are randomly broken,

infinite hurtful words spoken,

and will we ever know why time flies,

leaving us all,

twisted and cynical,
sterile, clinical,

as we race,
chase,

on,
ever onwards,

obliviously,
gleefully,

headed for that inevitable,

invisible wall.

today, everyday …

wrestling desire,
parrying,
jabbing,

living, knowing,
a bittersweet ache,

burning,
inflamed,

a furnace of passion,
cauldron of need,

as muted,
as the eye of the storm,

fleeting, momentarily,

before,

howling ferociously again,

deafening,

till souls cry out for release,

seeking only peace,

simple solace,

from today,
everyday.

vox-populi

futility, helplessness,
grates, corrodes,

so many fragmented aspirations,

flung aside by howling winds,

vile, profane,
coarsely oblivious,

coding unintelligle odes,

formatted,
loaded with presets:

default modes,

randomising fate,
prefiguring chance,

elementally,
bits & bytes,

the power is in your hands,

vox-populi, rejoice!

ps: just so that you always feel that you always, always have a choice.

i remain awake

wake me up when we have left,

all the festering detritus of strained emotions,
lost,

buried down alleyways of hateful forgiveness.

nudge me when we are at peace,
within altleast,
if not without,

or else,

allow me slumber,

sinking into the arms of embracing night,

offering me alms,
cajoling, insistent,

far too tempting,
wickedly alluring,

and,
so,

i am awake.

tick-tock …

when the walk hobbles,
and the talk slows,

when so many years take their toll,
when wrinkled, grey,

the passage of time,
creases smiles,

just knowing you,
my lifeline,

still,
enriches my life,

mile upon gathering mile.

?

?

splintered wings,
kicking dust,
seeking release,

bound, humans,
bereft of feeling,

while,

caged souls,
bereft of hope,

wills strangled,
spirits mangled,

wane,
wither,

away …

… all for a few laughs,

perhaps,
a couple of giggles,

some people amused,

fleeting,

this interest,
novelty,

but for the caged ones,
whose open skies lie broken, tattered,

caged souls,
hearts,

wills,
resolve,

now brittle,

having felt the stab,

of dreams dashed,
hopes shattered.