/ musings of a yatri /

These are facebook status updates on the go during my travels in Andhra Pradesh, India

/ poetry, won't you let me sleep? you burst into being and surround me as infants want their milk...now that you are conceived, I must feed you /

/ into this night, I blow away every memory of you hoping they would become one with the sand and hard to trace back to ever but when I walk back into the sandstorm they will come back and touch my ears and my toes and find their spaces back into me without me even knowing how / 

 / After a long night and a day of forgotten dreams as I returned back home, I saw you entangled in the dream catcher on my wall and I knew then who painted my dreams white and kissed my bruises purple and turned it to brown / 

/ oh night ! How do you paint me and turn me into the exact shade as you ? /

/ sinking into an abyss...becoming the abyss /

/ and this morning my nose was inspired. It ran like Bolt /

/ sometimes you dance in a known ignorance through the fire and look the silhouette smilingly in the eye hoping that the Light doesn't shine through and let the truth show itself / 

/ Barefeet, I can feel the breath of the earth and the fluid skies. They remind me, that just as them, I may be splashed across everywhere but still never too far from being a whole/

/ sitting in the dead of the night , body in shambles/ and a soul striving to put it's pieces together / I wonder what this journey is? I wonder where our Caravan lies hidden? / To be found by Us and taken into a dawn~New /

Rachamma speaks...

You are my dried flower petals, secretly pressed between the musty smelling pages of my being. Withering a little more, and smelling a little lesser of you and more of me ...

There is a beauty... In your secret smile, in your hands away from mine but just at the correct amount of distance, in your feet walking not beside mine but always close, in those eyes seeing without looking... In us just being without trying 

~ Being Rachamma in Hyderabad, 

Rachana / Ray ( a birthday gift by Soni )

Rachana / Ray

 Rachana

Was but a speck

A mood or a node

In the mind’s eye

Till desire gave way

To see me born

A short while,

A long wail

A beautiful picture.

I am here and yet . . .

 Ray

Today I write and wait

In the shadow of my words

For the clouds to merge

For the rain to pour

To wilt to nothing

Then the earth shall sow

Make love to my words

Their rhythms would conspire

My words would womb me

And I shall be born again

To write and wait

Me- 36 You 23 ~ ( written by a dear soul to me)

Me 36- You 23.

To meet under the shades of poetry

I chain my laughter to your brows

I steal your youth whilst you meet me

Me thirty six - you twenty three

Your mirror your world in words

I wage letters, trying to impress

They fall flat to your rhythms of honesty

Your head on my shoulders felt cold

My pages smart from jealous shame

I wish my spine would not wilt so

To write about butterflies, fighting reality  

To not know age, faith or passions neither

You thirty two - me sixty three

The weather changed, the words left me

I mocked your thoughts, you agreed

I attacked your vulnerability

I ran out to the world beyond

You, left behind in the shadow of words

Me sixteen - you twenty five

Many a chaos and curly locks i ran into

Many a lessons and letters exchanged

Alas! Hoping to find shades of you

In the words of those meant to not be

Me thirty six - you thirty

I drank life watching the waves recede

Not from the banks, but diving in

Finally drowned in the abyss of excess

The elixir of life was waiting in the pith

I drank you

In the shallows of the hallowed.

You thirty six – me twenty three

This is to Us...

this is to the beauty in our eyes - 

that many fear and many despise

this is to the mothers we love 

and sometimes hate

this is to us who forget

that it only a mother who has called upon pain

and embraced it as a pleasure

to get us into existence?

this is to the milk that flows through us

over valleys of love and into oceans ever receiving

this is to the many different thighs -

they all have a different tale to tell

this is to the solitude we always yearn for 

but the world needs a reason to approve for

this is to the demons we give birth to

and the angels that consume us

this is to the metaphors we are born into

and to the verbs we are limited to

this is to the locks we break

and the keys we never find

this is to the moulds we think we have to fit into

but know not that we can melt away,

we don't always to stay frozen.

this is to the fires we are made to walk in

but know not that we can vaporize away,

we don't always need to burn.

this is to all of us 

who don't yet know that an entire universe lies 

between these thighs

inside our eyes

flowing through the curls

gliding through the straight lines

this is to all of us

who haven't looked into another eyes 

and seen ourselves

this is to all of us

who have stopped being mirrors

because we are too tired being closed doors

this is to the blood we have shed

and raised children from

this is to ending the 'trying to be'

and beginning the just 'being'

this is

to 

us.

You are here.

And as you smiled me in the soul

Peeking and gushing through

The veils of pain I clad myself in

Rummaging through the ruins

Of my loveyard

You find me squirming in a corner

Your touch made me tremble

As a baby would when she arrives

Into the universe of today

Painted with pieces of the umbilical

And adorned with virgin blood...

You arrive,

I smile,

I breathe,

You are here.

You.

I miss your fingers
Tracing love on my skin
Looking for the moon
In my eyes
You sink
Deep
Into my ocean
Of
Chaos