Knot free

The hair was growing longer. Each strand was kissed by him. Each end of each split had so many roads to choose from. Chaos resonated from each wave. It had been about 365 days since no scissor had touched this head. After she met him and he had a head that mirrored hers, she thought she never would cut those strands ever again. Their heads together and formed a big heart of madness. In that kingdom of sweet smelling marijuana rhymes and rush hour on local train night times ~ with every time they came together they tangled in each other a little more. The strands held on so tight and pulled her down. Kept her feet on the ground. Together they weaved dreams of dreadlocks and hemp clothes. But they couldn’t escape the epidemic of the knots. She did not know when tangled become entangled. She did not know when sweet love turned into sweet pain. Yes pain can be sweet when you like cavities. Deep dark cavities you can hide secrets in. He invited himself out of her head as fast as he came in uninvited. Left with her own head she walked into the summer heat. The sun burnt, the sand kissed, the salt in the ocean ticked wounds. She kept walking on as her head got heavier. Without him her strands started to wither. Rough were the roads and rough became her hair. She would tie them up in oil and cream before she went to bed. But would wake up with them all out and scattered. They could not be tamed. Their madness was taking over her. And one day, she could not take it. She had to do it. So she did. Let a magician cut them away. Dead they lie waiting for him to come back and grow them back to life. 

My lover is the wick of that candle

My lover
is the wick
of that candle.

He burns himself
to spread Light
into this universe.

Have you ever felt
what the candle feels
when alone and not ignited?

Even candles love company
of lovers dining
of children in the darkness crying
of travelers seeking
of prayers speaking

My lover
is the wick
of that candle.

He burns himself
to spread Light
into my being.

He is growing shorter
as the wax melts on the stand
unable to contain itself.

He knew the end
right from the start
but he still chose to burn.

Such agonizing beauty
that can be seen and felt
but never captured

Such love that gives
without leaving a mark
and no trace

O! My lover
is the wick of that
candle

He lit my life
woke me up
from 25 years of slumber

He burns
burns bright
to spread his light.

~ Ray

I am a Kaleidoscope

As time teases us 
And we pull away
From the window 
That led me to you
And you to me 

I flee inwards
To find a piece of glass 
I can frame
And see you through 

I find stained glass pieces
Of colors many
Shapes many
Edges fiercely sharped many

Gathering them
I wonder what
I can turn myself into
A window ? A door?

I build another window
But I don't see you
I build another door
But I don't find you

I resign
Re-design
Myself into an instrument
That shows patterns

My fragments of colored
Scattered pieces
Come together to
Tell different tales

See me through me
I have broken inside
But these patterns you see
Are my fix .

I am a Kaleidoscope
Come look
Into me
And help me see him
In some patterns
In some colours

~ Ray

Finding my tribe

We were born from one big soul

A soul that only knew love, a love so whole

We walked hand in hand - shamans , healers of an indigo race

with our eyes shimmer and light our face

In the vastness of everything we would thrive

who knew when the enemies would come alive?

We were scattered all around in different lands

but we have see each other and held those hands

Hands that feel much more the heat and the cold

Feet that have walked for love without being told

Oh we think we are running away from the enemy

but we need to pause and wonder what that darkness is 'within' me?

I am born craving for this wanderlust

I roam and travel - in strangers I trust 

These words are all I have to remotely describe

how my soul is finding my tribe

~ Ray

Telling them...

With all this talk

day in and night out

of god like children 

getting torn to shreds 

in their formative years.

With all this hullabaloo

in the media and on walls of public urinals

those scavengers carefully

wash their hands off

the puke an virgin blood.

With all the screams 

on the streets of slogans 

against such monstrosity

those hyenas laugh in the noise

blocking the babbles we would never decipher.

With all this technology

we play with and that is playing with us

blurring any lines that used to separate

with a new app born at the rate of a girl child

they penetrate slow but deep.

Do I need a piece of human made technology

to tell me that I have been penetrated into

without my fucking will?

Do I need to stop wearing my scarf 

to show that I too am beaten blue 

in places I would rather hide?

Do I need to increase the length of my clothes

and walk less promiscuously 

away from spaces that make me at fault?

Do I need to hide indoors and hide my self 

and give in to the monsters at home

because I am dissed for everything I am unable to do?

Do I need to silence my howls at night

because this man called a 'husband' thinks 

I have no consent the moment I am marred by this symbolic red powder ?

Do I need to change who I am

and who I want to be

only to protect

my mind

my sanity

my sanctity

my vagina

my face

my beauty

my child

my legacy

my self

my hair

Do I need to tell them 

that

my vagina is not me?

~ Ray

Mad dreams

She woke from her dream
and looked around her

This universe looked obscure
yet beautiful

Tip toed bare feet and naked
on the sand

Came in front of an ocean clear
and stared down at the waters

She saw her eyes and a full moon with the rabbit
staring back at her

'We all exist together yet so alone and apart"
she thought to herself.

She knew she could never touch the moon or dance in her craters
or play with the rabbit

She waited for those full moon nights where
it all felt so real

They were a family to her
that did not always need to see each other

The moon her lover and the rabbit their child
and the stars their friends

And then she went back to the womb
that she hid in.

The universe moved on while she wept
Everything changed while she slept

She woke from her dream
and looked around her

This universe looked obscure
yet beautiful

Tip toed bare feet and naked
on the sand

Came in front of an ocean clear
and stared down at the waters

She saw the nothingness
staring back at her

Craving the sight of her lover
she wondered what was real

Or if transience was reality
and the only thing constant

Half awake and half asleep
she stood on the line

Laughing and weeping
she knew she has mad

The kind of mad that came at the cost
of living in contradictions

The kind of mad that her lover,the moon
drove her to be

The kind of mad where she created
and wove her own reality

The kind of mad where she knew
being alone was the only way

The kind of mad that would teach the world
on this type of love

The kind of mad that would kill her
to make her alive

~ Ray 

I am 'vulnerable' and I know it

I was told to write on 'vulnerability' for my sisters blog. When I thought of how to start this article, I decided to look up what this word 'vulnerable' actually means. My macbook dictionary says this:

Vulnerable: 

adjective: susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm

It is quite true that when one thinks of being vulnerable it implies a negative connotation and warns us to somehow  be in a position to defend, build walls, protect ourselves. Off late I have felt differently about this. 

   

Being 'vulnerable' is... 

• Stripping your 'self' naked and being able to look in the mirror 

I finally decided to look in the mirror. This is something I never did for a long time. With the help of a certain soul that showed me a mirror and said I am looking for peace in all the wrong places - I started peeling layers of yesterday's- hidden feelings, notions, habits, patterns and found that all of them had a link to a certain something I was doing today. I was able to clearly see the link and realized that a lot of it were things I had just accepted without changing even if they were not very conducive to a peaceful state of being. I cut away from a lot of human contact, started off on a detox for my body and focussed only on all things important for me. I could feel like I saw myself clearly. 

• First aid to fresh wounds and making peace with the scars

There were fresh wounds bleeding. There were also scars from old wounds. I realized, some scars were well hidden but some I flaunted quite proudly. The ones I flaunted were often in defense for experiences that had made me who I was today. They were my ticket to behaving a certain way and blaming it on the scars. They were my 'yes thats what made me be this way' when confronted about negative attitudes. The recent wounds were still bleeding and bothered me. They kept me awake at night and made me want to hide and sleep in the day. I would hide them from some people by using layers of sweaters but in the confines of my room I would let it out. Merely acknowledging they were there did not do much. They needed to be attended to and fixed. I thus started using various techniques that worked for me - writing, yoga, dancing, meditation, chanting (a very recent development after years of resistance). I surrendered myself to the whatever seemed to work well and they took care of me slowly. It is important I believe to tend to these before they get deeper and leave those scars. 

• Healing ~ body, mind, soul

This is a process that only gets better the more you let yourself go. This comes with realizing that in essence even though one, we need to look after our mind and body and pay attention to them. The body process started for me with watching my food habits and feeling the impacts it had on me. I felt healthy and my thoughts seemed so clear and not clouded. So it is true that they interact together to form the experience of our Being. The soul ...I can't explain it but it is that feeling when something inside you swells up when you feed it with more of things that come true to your nature. The more I pay attention to my body, thoughts in the mind and doing things that I feel instinctively beautiful about, I feel like I am healing. Vulnerable, but still healing slow. 

• Movement~ Wandering the universe with this 'self'

Now you are ready to step out and dive into the ocean. As a traveler, you wander. You don't stay anywhere too long. You move. Move slowly and meet souls that you can inspire or be inspired from. Once I accepted myself for all my madness, I realized I did not have to try to fit in anywhere. My ability to turn my vulnerability into my asset gives out vibes into the universe that other receptive souls could feel and acceptance came all too naturally. I have also realized that what I emit I am attracting. I am able to see the 'vulnerability' in others and be at peace with that too. I also realize that I have dropped the need to try to fit in anywhere. Not in a rebel-in-your-face-way, but in a 'I-am-my-own-home' so I am protected way. 

• Pain turning into poetry

I do not want to become super woman and be too strong that I cannot be broken again. I value my wounds and scars too much to ever want to stop hurting. I want to be hurt because every time I am hurt, I am much more vulnerable but much deeper in touch with that me inside which can only be reached with a lot of blood and tear shed. I am in control of everything that I let happen to me and what I make of it ~ the pain and the poetry I turn it into and wear on me proudly as a pretty scar. The poetry I make from that space of being comfortably vulnerable is what I am able to share with everyone else in this universe and hopefully inspire in some way. 

Re-defining  Vulnerable: 

adjective: susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm and being at peace with it because you realize you are in control of what to make of it

~ Ray Iyer

Written on March 25th 2014