Statue of Ashes

I am a statue of the ashes you've
burnt me into
Bit by bit I've let you rip myself apart
And now you're gone.
Gone into a wilderness that has no
room for a Mirror.

This statue
Grey and tall
Will be blown away by not just the
wind
But by the fury of your mind.

But a statue is what I am
And what I will remain
Immobile
And looking you in the eye.

Oh well, I may just blink and bring
myself down...

Tell your mind so frail in my love not
to worry,
I will not blow myself in your direction.
Or let my ashes touch you.

Do you recognize these ashes?
Nothing you already haven't felt the
pulse of
You already know
every corner of my soul
And your senses have felt them the way nothing else has.

And now in this cradle of feeble
Minds
And now in this labyrinth of lost souls
We have Lost.

Lost what was born effortlessly
Waiting to be
in
Our
Utopia.

Written on 19th april

hoping on a Phoenix...

Since
the 9th year of 2000

Since
the beginning of the end

Nothing
has churned up such a storm

Nothing
has ever taken his form

Eyes of Fire
in a Soul of Water

Burning
her up.

It is anything but easy for her to describe the feeling of his voice. As they met in a place no one else belonged. As they were drinking in the stars hanging off the cliff and talking about pain. As she sang him her song , and he gently kissed her on her cheeks. On the same cheeks she had been slapped for expressing unconditional love. His smile made hiding from the world worth it.

After that night, everything seems like a rush. A rush of running, of breathing, of holding, of not knowing but still believing, of not feeling but still giving.

He touched her in places she never knew she still possessed.

His ever changing presence, ever moving soul made of the element which let everything touch it and make it as it pleased, seemed calm some days and stormy on other days. But she knew, that when they just Were, there was a tranquility nothing could surpass.

She never wanted to take the place of the one who belonged to his Being.

She knew she never could.

The world in which they met is shutting itself now.

It will not thrive if only she wants it to.

He needs it to want it to.

She cannot stand him in pain and she would do anything to ease it.

He doesn't recognize her anymore.

He has trampled on the little world they had once built under the stars.

Why doesn't he see how that world will exist in their eyes always?

Why doesn't he see that her arms are always wide open for him?

Why does he doubt her sanctity after how much she has let him crush her fears?

She was always looking at him through a glass, and he sometimes did look back at her.

Crash. Burn.

She is sitting in the ashes waiting. Writing a letter wish them. Playing with them. Trying to find him.

Hoping their love, like the Phoenix will come alive.

Hoping he believes her.

Hoping she loses her fear in him.

Until then she dreams.
Dreams of the starry night
The kiss
and the Sukoon in his arms...

4:05 am

4:05 am , in bed
uneasily shifting
myself.
Eyes, cringing
Lips, biting
Hands, clasping
Breath, gasping.
Loud voices in my head talk :
Solitude does strange things-
not the one where you are cut off
from the world
the one, where you stand alone
even in a crowd.
The heat is ever soaring
ever unceasing
until it reaches its climax
and im numb.
These creatures ,
at the back of my throat
use spears and poke and pierce
as if they were waiting for the Voice
to somehow let itself out.
Coughing like a dying soul
I grab the bottle in the dark
opening it, it spills on to me
my eyes, the hair on my shoulder and yes it couldn't escape my neck.
Eyes, that were shut so tight
Lips , that were clenched in fright
Hands, numb last night
and Breath awoke, with a continued fight.

There is this divine trilogy staring at me
My solitude
My soul
And I.
I stand in the middle,
feeling like I belong to neither sides.
I stand
And now I shall
Sit.

Wake up call

If your existence - is merely for sustenance. What are you really here for? Is there a calling? Ok, you say there is. But are you answering that call ? Not just hearing, but listening, absorbing , talking back to it, feeling the message and then after you hang up not forgetting it? Walking away, you don't even remember you got the Call. You like water just blend into whatever is around you and forget why you were Called...

What happens next seems like a haze. What you started with and where you have reached have nothing in common. In this sojourn you have met people, you have known people, you have absorbed energies, you have taken on a little of what they believe in, you've given some, you've repelled some, you've had exchanges of all sorts... But what have you given yourself? You keep expecting people to live up-to their word to you, not to let you down, not to cheat on you, not to turn their back on you, but all along you have done just that to yourself right? 

Sometimes when the night is quiet and you are sleeping in the dark, you still hear faint ringtone of your Call, but you intoxicated don't heed, you think you don't need. 

Everything after it has passed away, even the call stopped coming? You are out of the network or unreachable or so busy that it will not reach you...

You have been calling and chasing people who are busy trying to answer their call. You come in their way, you come in your own way. . .

Rejection isn't something you take so well, so why give yourself the first No?

You suddenly expect to still be able to get the call when you realize what you have been doing and not doing. There is nothing brilliant about claiming to be open to other narratives if you are not going to add your essence to it and then process it ...

And you can only have some essence if you are feeding your inner child, speaking to your call, doing what you truly believe in and what gives you joy unbound...

Doing things for others and then overdoing it in Love and expecting them to drop their call and chase you, you are bringing them down to this mere existence you  have been so comfortably stagnating in...

What is a failure ? To me it is not doing justice to yourself and your potential and your commitments, which then impacts everyday transactions and work and other people and their interactions with you too. 

Self-centered, Selfish , all these words which have the words Self are actually not even true if you are not going to know what this big fat Self wants. 

Making choices according to whatever fancy and interesting and challenging comes in the way... hmm... may work well just by chance and for a while, if you need to sustain it and be truly content... I am not so sure...

We are back again to the Call...

Patiently wait, give yourself some time. And not just in mere words this time. The soul inside you deserves to be heard, it is what actually makes you ~ You, well what you do with it does...

Failure is a good teacher, an eye opener... What you make of it, what shouldn't don't make of it ( self accusing-victimizing-wailing-complaining-giving up) ...

Wake up Call.

* This is purely self talk 

About time

When two people meet and put their best act together, their best smiles, the best smell, best touch, best thoughts, best ideas... It usually takes a while before you are ready to be natural and yourself - do things u love, be around people who mean a lot to you, do things that give you joy... All that , and being loved while you do all that.

Another fight. Another night. 

Because one could not control the mind and another wanted to control it so bad on his own. 

One was herself, skin and bones, in a vulnerable state. 

The other had walls, facades and most of all found it difficult to merge.

Merge with her. He could not fathom to what extent she could go to getting what she wanted.

He could not believe that maybe there does exist some one who can bring so much joy and pain at the same time. 

He thought she was uncontrollable, obnoxiously in his face about everything and too pushy.

Even being oneself leads to such situations...

If stripping oneself in front of the Lover, completely...exposing fears, pain, misery... and everything that you need to complete the journey to becoming truer to yourself...

If doing all that can cost you your life, can cost you to be disembarked on a journey, can cost you to be stranded, can cost you rejection, can cost you shame, can cost you being judged  by the thousand eyes who know nothing and care less about you, can cost you your sanity , your sanctity, your peace...

Is it worth it?

How easy it is to label some one a misfit with an unsound mind, with an unclear head ? 

It sure is easier than trying to understand them.

It sure is easier to call them psychotic and deem them unfit to be part of your life .

It is much much much easier to do all of the above than...

Embracing diversity.

Embracing multiple truths.

Embracing the fact that everyone has a way to express or not to express.

Embracing their intent behind how they are.

Embracing them in essence, in their essence.

Merely embracing a body without embracing the soul,

Merely making love without actually becoming One with the soul,

Merely being there in sunny days and shutting the doors on them in rainy days,

Merely holding hands and scaling up the mountain of togetherness and letting the hands go in distress

expecting it to find its own way back, expecting it to behave to the norm, expecting it to fit into the moulds that the damn system has set for normality and abnormality...

You don't know how many such souls you have left and shut and cut out of your life with your shallow attempts to know some one. 

Then again, time will tell. If we , on the otherside - The Black Sheep are better off not grazing pastures which have already been eaten up by those scavengers... the scavengers who haven't and probably never will feel the purity in your thought and innocence in your eyes...

Are we ready to starve?

Are we ready to struggle to quench these thirsts?

W's

What do you hide behind Oh child? You have erred but you have learnt.

What do you fear so much that you have built these walls of steel around yourself? I still see you peek through them through a hole.

Why do you blame yourself for the happenings that would have eventually happened someday anyway? There is the universe at play don't you see?

What happens to you when you see the happiness on his face? You forget that you too have a soul that needs to be cajoled because it has bled a thousand rivers of blood.

Where do you stand when the nights are grey and the storm has announced its arrival? You stand nowhere, you float.

Where then are you during the Storm? You shelter but are never sheltered.

When was the last time you looked in the mirror? You run away from it.

Why do you not see even with eyes wide open ? You see not what is beneath your wings.

Why do you love him? You stare back with a blank face.

Why does he not see through you and feel your insides? Remove that facade and strip your soul. Give him a chance to

...

She Is

She.
Is.
Delicate
as a teardrop
Falling
Slowly
into
Me.
Overwhelmed
I
Crawl,
Gliding
through
Her
skin.
She.
Is.
Gentle.
Kohl-rimmed
Eyes
pierce,
through
Me.
Sweet
Surrender.
She
Knows
Not
Fears
I
fight.
Fight
to
let
Her
In.
Walls
crumble
and
I
know
there
can
Never
be
anything
more
Beautiful
than her
to
Me.
She.
Is.
~ Written on 29th of January