The Morning After...

Rainy Mornings

It should rain every night, And eyes feast on green and brown. They call the perfume petrichor. It must not be bottled up and poured, at will. I could not afford to buy if it was, Available in a fancy shop. It smells of womb, My mother's love. It covers me in lightness. My heart and soul, Languishing in the daily rot, Of existence, In mythical cities and towns, Open their third eye, To Tandava of love. Let me indulge, in lucid dreams. Of villages and mango trees. Of empty, faraway groves, That exist only in my head. The music of the rain, Tupur, tapur as the baby says, Makes me want to unfurl my wings. The notes perfect, The sound same, From the time I remember, Sleeping under a sheet of tin. I wish it rained every night. And, I don't have to, Water my plants, Or wash the car clean. ~ Shoma

At the Medical Store

It was supposed to end like this;

You and I, both strangers,

Bumping into each other, 

In a medical store;

You looking for sleeping aid,

I, for Bandaid for a small cut.

It had to end this way.

Both of us looking away,

At the jar of lip balms;

The smell of antiseptic,

Strong and pungent,

Wafting in from next door.

It had to end this way.

The screeching of brakes,

The noise of a hundred babblers.

You and I cocooned in opportunity,

The grim shop front hiding us.

The overflowing racks of medicines,

Cosmetics and Condoms,

Clamoring for attention.

And there we were, oblivious of everything,

But, what we had ordered.

How Love Died

It was cold and bleak for days,
Love hovered at the doorstep,
Forlorn,
Lonely,
Shivering,
Hoping.
Gusts of wind,
Outrageously unfriendly and
Terribly icy,
Tore through its skin.
Love tried.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
No response.
Love pleaded,
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Love heard sobs from inside.
Love felt tears.
Love, knocked one last time.
Weak.
Sad.
Slow sounds.
The door opened a crack.
Love fell,
The heart stopped fluttering.
A last cold breath escaped frozen lungs,
Mingled with the winds.
Eyes shed tears.
Howled with the winds.
Too late.
Love was dead.

More Random Poems!

The Eyes
The city, dressed in lights and colors whizzed past the one with dry eyes and a permanent smile;
The twinkling lights forced life into the sightless sockets and flooded the face with myriad hues;
But, each color reflected in those eyes told a story of its own - pain, loss, hurt and humiliation,
The emotions danced on the knitted brows and pursed lips. But, the smile stayed unfazed, unchanged by any blow.
When the world hurried past without stopping to ask, "why do you smile so much?"
It did not matter. Because, those eyes did not see the world with its fake lights and color;
Those eyes, they did not see the world at all. It just did not matter at all. 

                                                                    ***

And when, the lights are turned off and the stage is bare,
You stand in a corner and think, "did it all happen here?"

                                                                    ***

The path of no return beacons.
It is time for a cross-over,
To burn the bridges and move on.
Is forgetting and forgiving that easy when you are no more?

                                                                   ***

The Upstairs Neighbors - Part II
They are at it once more;
Hammer and tongs.
To tell the truth,
Love is better than war!

                                                                 ***

The Upstairs Neighbors
When they make love. they are inseparable, audible.
The creaking bed and heaving sighs soaring through the night;
When they fight, the whole world knows.
My problem? They do it right above my head and I have to hear and bear with both.

                                                               ***

Colors of Love
Love is the color red. All passion and heat.
No, love is green, soft, innocent and just born.
Oh no! Love is blue, light at dusk and tinged sparkly orange.
Aqua in the afternoon and dark and dangerous at night.
I strongly disagree!
Love is all the colors in the box or crayons,
that we bought that day at the fair.
And I used all of them to paint this place for us.
Just for you and me to smile, hold hands and love.

                                                               ***

The Break-up
Don't read signs where none exist, he warned;
The words tasted bitter and bit his tongue with their sharpness.
I cannot look you in the eyes and see the truth, she whimpered;
Tears, salty and watery traveled down her cheeks, across her nose to her mouth;
Lights flashed across the sky and the earth trembled in shock and fear;
The earth-shattering numbness of loss settled down like an unwanted guest.
The hearts ceased to beat, the pulse refused to flicker and the body turned cold like marble on a tomb.
It really was over for there she lay, embalmed and enshrined in a casket of gold.
                                                                  ***

Love

Last night, each time I closed my eyes,
I saw you smiling at me.
Last night, each time I opened my eyes,
I saw nothing but darkness.
After hours of opening and shutting my eyes,
I realized, you and I are one,
Your smile is mine and my fears are yours.
That is when I finally lost myself to sleep or was it love?


                                                                  ***

Together

You and I like kites in the sky,
Like Hippies in a commune;
Always together but, never with each other.

                                                                 ***    

An Ode to the Sea 

There was a time when I just had you,
I spent hours walking beside you,
Felling your ebb and flow.
Telling you stories I dared not tell others I knew.
Sharing tears, hugs and love.
Sometimes with words and at others, not speaking at all.
Today, when you and I are no longer together.
I still remember, those days,
That I spent, just waiting to come home to you.

                                                                   ***

Mother's Dream
The sky sleeps dreaming of the Moon,
The Moon dreams of the Sun,
The Sun, dreams of the Earth,
The Earth dreams the collective dreams of the millions it nurtures.

                                                                    ***


'Scratch, scratch' goes the old crone at my throat.
I curse winter and she cackles. The witch.

You, I, We and Love

Thoughts that lead to goosebumps have to be thoughts of you, me, us;
On that days followed by one night when we, us, together in the velvet softness,
Quietly exchanging smiles that included no one but we;
Pretending that even we did not see.
You and I thinking no one knew,
That we hid it well, even from us;
Did we really think no one would see?
That no one will comment?
And did it really happen or was it just I?
Was it just imagination?
Those few fleeting moments when we were one.
Holding hands, rubbing shoulders, exchanging glances;
The smiles that overflowed,
Do you remember the shiver that ran down your spine?
When someone pushed us together in the crowd;
I remember looking down, pretending not to know.
Relishing the fingers that touched my back, your forehead, my arms...
You and I, stuck in a bit of time in a world that was only ours.
Only us, next to the soft sound of the waves;
In a fast moving train;
In a slow moving car;
Under a rain-drenched awning with no umbrella;
With the Moon softly bathing us in cool light;
In a room full of staring, stern-faced Gods;
It was perhaps all in the mind or maybe it did happen in that one fleeting moment of love.

I Know it's Love

What tugs at my heart
and pulls it towards yours
are not words.

What makes my throat dry up
and breath catch,
are the looks that you send my way.

When you steal glances
thinking no one can see
and sigh, a small, deep breath.

That is when I know
that you love just me
and also, that it can't be.

The T-Shirt

Today, I wore the T-shirt you cast aside that day when it'd rained.
It was slightly crumpled and had a burnt hole on the right sleeve.
It smelled of damp and you - just like our embrace that day;
I inhaled deeply as I pulled it over my head.

I felt enveloped - in you.
Closing my eyes it was us.
You, me and our tight little world.
There was hardly any space to breathe.

I inhaled deeply, the smell of the cigarette we had shared;
It made me feel lightheaded, almost drunk.
I rubbed the sleeves against my face,
It scratched me like yours against mine first thing every morning.

It felt good,
Like it had felt those early days.
When you and I were us;
Not, like now when all I have is your T-shirt.