From the dust I rise
To the dust I return
In an inconsequential flight
I rise and I burn.
The love, the hate, the humanity
All perish therein,
The rusting body ends my travellers’ joy
Annihilating the very proof of me.
I burn my body to ashes
But my conscience savors and yearns
I rot amidst my own ashes
But my soul transpires beyond the patriarchal tavern.
I burn and I smile
Beyond my submissive rage
For I have no dreams
Only a small selfish realm.
I burn and I smile
Even from my ashes, when he rise
Drowning me beneath my own existence
Setting my red hair- aflame.
I burn and I smile
From among the quivering ashes
Subsiding, submerging- dying
O God- Can I please cease the smile?
Picture Credits: coub.com
Like the oceans galore
My feelings remain
Like the prisoners of war.
Like the waves tumultuous
My thoughts remain
Rising from the purgatory.
Like the looming storm
Burning my eyes like a sandstorm.
Hesitantly swarming in my chest
I have locked them up
Leaving myself bereft.
Do not try your pretending words, balmy
For they are raging inside
Threatening to surrender like a Tsunami.
I am not a morning person
But then again I am barely even a person,
But since I am not a morning person
And when I am forced to leave my warm smothered bed
I cringe and cry
Not wanting to rise.
I shed off all my dreams
When suddenly, my alarm screams
And as soon as my feet touch the floor,
My mother rushes in, thrashing the door.
“We have guests at our place, and I need milk!”
“So?” I want to show some fury.
I do not say a word
Instead rush to the kitchen
To get my morning drug.
“Please, you can have coffee once you come back,
I need milk and some bread before that.”
I give her a look
Morning without a coffee
Is barely morning at all
And since I am not a morning person
It makes me furious after all.
In a deep blue pair of pajamas
And a plane tank top
A lost rough bun, with loose strands on my careless face
I grab the keys to my vehicle
And leave, muttering under my breath
“Who goes to someone’s place at this hour?”
I am barely awake
What with an early morning
And no coffee-
And so I am in a hurry
More of a hurry for a cup of coffee
Than of furnishing the breakfast for our guests.
“Yeah, go on judge me” I say out aloud
To no one in particular.
And since its early morning
Not many shops have even opened
The supermarket is still closed too,
And I roam about in my effort to find some place
That will provide me with the needed!
“Why can’t they just drink a coffee and be done with it instead?”
I could have made all kinds,
But our guests had to have breakfast
And we had to finish all our bread the previous day.
And so I drive around in a chirpy and yet quite morning
Warm and yet a cool morning.
I remember suddenly, the bakery!
And I rush there.
There is a small grocery store beside it too
Finally! Both of them have started their day
And very soon I have the needed
A carton of milk,
And a packet of bread,
And I am driving home.
I am not the best of drivers
Least when it comes to cars,
But I drive my Honda Dio pretty well.
Over the decade of driving two wheelers
I have had the knack of balancing and rushing
Without being a sneaker.
And so at the speed of 30-40 on a empty lane
I am driving and enjoying the beautiful morning arcane.
When finally my stubbornness is over the fact
That I had to wake up and rush about for others
It starts drizzling,
And then pouring
And then consistently raining!
Now, as usual I am again grumpy
Just when I was adjusting
All fell again crumbling.
What choice do I have
Either I get late for the entire day
Or I get drenched
And finally start my day!
I chose the latter.
Now, rains are not my favorite part
“What did I say?”
“I don’t like rains?”
“Are you mad?”
Now, don’t get me wrong
Rains are needed
But I am more of a reality person
And rains always have been to me burden.
What with the puddles and the potholes
The overflowing murky water
And the atmosphere, a constant rotter.
But since I am doing everything against my own will
I keep driving
I keep drenching
And begin somehow, to enjoy
The morning chill.
Who cares- about how I look
I am probably just a black and white sketchbook.
It is early in the morning
And there is no one around
For the days aborning.
And so I let myself soak,
And the cool breeze, float.
The rains have prevented
The one or two early risers
Leaving the day isolated and scented
With only one or two miners
I am driving back home,
All too careful, not to skid
When an Enfield comes and skits inches away from me.
The me, that always finds mistakes in myself
Cringes and slows down
Only to realize that the gawky man has turned around.
I am still away from home
And the street is empty-
I drive away.
He drives away!
A little while later
I notice the Royal Enfield again
And I want to take off
Just like a rocket plain.
I have a Honda Dio
He has a Royal Enfield.
I stick to the extreme left,
Giving him the entire road,
Its raining and I don’t want to cause some explode.
And yet he drives centimeters away from me
And my heart thumps as if
He was on the verge of thrashing me.
He slows down fairly just a little ahead of me
And then I slow down too
Thinking how to flee.
I keep forgetting I am drenched,
My tank top stuck to me,
And my pajamas are defining my legs, carefree.
He is not bothered by my driving skills
But he is amazed by a woman’s drenched frills.
He finds me enticing
And he has nothing better to do
On a morning that is so surprising.
The clouds have grown darker
The rains heavier
And I can barely see the road’s departure,
But I have to find an exit now!
And I have to get home- NOW!!
And so with sheer force
I speed my vehicle
Zigzagging against the course
Noticing his face, unbelievable.
Oh, what a psychopath
He whistles at my expertise
But diverts his path
And I breathe, a sigh of relief.
And then I am no mood of fury,
Or any agony,
Not for the fact that I had an early morning,
Not for the uninvited guests
And not for the Royal Enfield.
It was just as normal, just as mundane-
Nothing was new
Not the woman’s bane.
It was just mandatory
Because if you are a woman
Sexuality was your only glory.
I sped home,
Indeed like a rocket plane
And then somehow my deep blue pants
Had turned even a deeper shade.
But I didn’t care
For nothing was new
And so I went to the kitchen
And poured the coffee, due.
You said it was love,
And I believed in you and called it love-
I fused in you
And lost all I had.
I loved you with all I had
And you deceived me with all you could
All I claimed was, you to love me too
And all you did was betrayed me with all my feelings too.
But what could I have expected,
I wanted sunshine and rains and winters
I wanted all-
But unknowingly I entered a silent brawl.
I wronged myself, in believing in you
For I think I demanded sunshine off the morning dew,
It’s not your fault, as rains only provide thunder
And a snowfall in scorching summers would only be a wonder.
I am fierce
I am wild
I am an emblem of self-implied exile.
I am aggressive
I am saucy
I am an insignia of selfishly haughty.
I am bold
I am vain
I am an image of disdain.
I am dominant
I am arrogant
I am yet, a metaphor of a self-loathing Samaritan.
I am malicious
I am viciously uncompassionate
I am of all these, a conglomerate.
I am I
I am what I am
A phony fable in a flesh.
I am I
I am what I am
A conceited allegory in oneself.
Her another shade of mystery here: The Mystical Pishogue.
In living an existence of insanity
A being of absolutely solidarity,
She found solace among inanimate objects
Amidst her life which was completely wrecked.
She fell in love with words.
When everyone thought her to be absurd,
She made books her escape mechanism
While her heart screamed abstract expressionism.
She fell in love with fantasy
Loathing her reality,
Making her miseries unconscious
She made books her life’s colossus.