Red heart...

Smiling tears…and…hopeful fears…held in a storm within

the storm within … until lying low… too strong to bow…

… Somewhere between…the heart and mind…

the lofty mind and red heart….eternal  foes…

foes eternal… bound together… poles apart…

poles apart ….. on the flaming winds… in the waters of woes…

Up in the head… reasons, measures and all...

reasons, measures and all…. Virtues O' so tall… dare you fall  !!!!

dare you fall…… while the red heart ... leaps and falls….rejoicing!!!

falls and leaps…rejoicing… of pleasures O' so small…

so small…O' pleasures … passion enough  to stir up storms…

stir up storms…..until lying low… now too strong to bow…

… Somewhere between…the heart and mind…

the lofty mind and red heart ….eternal  foes…

foes eternal… bound together… poles apart…

poles apart ….. on the flaming winds… in the waters of woes…

Though … well known… such storms… do not vane on toes…

Red heart swells to cry… Storm? .So be it... I take the blow…..

I take the blow…pleasure in his arms... even if I… break apart…..

break apart?? ... vanity of youth or innocent love ....red heart?

Alas! Broken apart…. Often by the mind…for whose heart…

The red heart …fights till the very  last… Lost for him till it lasts…..

A loss that has never been

I write when I am so full… have to write when the need to be filled again swells up against life itself. I write as I had to spill my heart out; to be able to breathe again ….to be able to live and let life fill me again.
However, it’s a giant leap of faith that I am starting to write on the web… from scribbling into notebooks hidden under my pillow  I am venturing into typing in those thoughts here…. So that they don’t get lost in yellow crumbled pages…. They stay here … might be shared by someone… or may be after years revisited by me to live the life I would have forgotten by then…or would long for in vain.
As I want to start to write here, there is a sense of loss for all those thought I crumbled into trash and before I start to write of home …  I am obliged to write of times when I was not home…to bring back some of the crumbled thoughts here as far as my memory would suffice…. Random though ,I would revisit those times when I was alien and never at home anywhere..
Some years back on a summer after noon when I was so far, yet very distant from everything around me …not yet home ….just far … I had scribbled few lines that had trickled down from a overwhelmed heart filled with silence occasionally stirred by the cuckoo birds singing….a heart did not know that why those strains got tears to my eyes …boisterous of knowing of love and life… naïve to the secret tugs and pulls of heart….I wrote.
                  ‘

                                “From this silence to your song…

                                                 With all I have …I still know... I long…

Why does it feel I know your pain…

I try so hard but all in vain…

To not feel it deep within…

A loss that has never been…..

For shattered dreams that were never seen"

my nights...

Calm... as it trickles down under the covers of darkness with the moon half risen and half hidden among the sleepy clouds ....I feel at home... it’s the silence occasionally broken by the preachers of the night… awakens my senses with a cool breeze carrying fragrance in the folds of the night.... that is when I wake up...wake when most of the world around me is in deep slumber....
so often I have been told by my mother and other people ,who do matter ,to get rid of this habit of waking nights and sleeping mornings.....get into a healthier habit.....behave normal and respect the body clock…..but trust me…..my body clock winds up at the day break and is alert under the dark skies…

The sun or rather the sun shades induce the most peaceful sleep in me…. The magical hours of five to twelve in the afternoon are my sleeping hours and night one to five in the morning I am at my fighting best…

In these darkest  hours I find strongest light to fight the mundane  darkness of life and rejoice being me….just me… no chores …no obligations….no sounds… no echoes… jus my thoughts ,my feelings echoing through things ...I write, songs I listen to , people I talk to , hopes I cherish  and  memories I savour.

If this is abnormal, so be it, anyways who wants to be normal and then again what is normal…

Mostly, the masked true self of weak souls ….who find comfort in multitude …is the glorified ‘normal’… and the uninhibited, with a need to be true and true even when standing alone is ‘abnormal’…. So basically, wat, my near and distant relatives, my filthy rich neighbours ,my parents, the pot belly priest of the temple round the corner , my poor  maid etc don’t have in common is termed abnormal……

Anyways, back to my love for nights…..my waking hours….. I love waking in nights …my night, my knights…the calm… my life reclaimed night after night…sleep can wait for the harsh sun….

Moon so close …. So far…silver beam

Sky so often.. In all shades of dream

Tip toeing into my heart..the only sounds I hear..

An old melody playing not so near

 and falling of the silent tear…

These moments when I can be…

just as I want to be with me..

To give up this for the rising sun….

would be another delicate dream undone..

hold hands and see stars....

There was a whole world crossing over at my back while my hand in is palms....sitting on the sands of marina ….staring on to the twinkling eyes of heaven that loom over the horizon …… they are said to hold futures but …that moment they had just stopped to mock us….laugh at the fragile dream we had stolen from destiny….one evening that would end very soon while he held me close and we never wanted to let go…. In spite of all agreements and rationale of this being a onetime adventure when the eyes met he held my hands a little tighter… and I closed my eyes to let those tears roll by….

“One evening is all I ask”…. I had begged  ….”what would change?” he argued and then looked into my eyes and said… “ ok one evening ….I will show my city…one evening we go out and that will be all” …..my joy knew no bound… like joy of a heart bubbling with teenage romance…  he looked at me as amused and as confused as one could be.

Then the evening as it melted into the silence of mid night….i was holding onto him as he rode his bike… as we near the Cinderella’s  hour and the magic was about to end…he took my hand … pulled me in… sighed and said… “Can we do it once more tomorrow and  then never again…”

The tomorrow came and slipped away just like yesterday and we still do it, for years now, always knowing that there would be no tomorrow after which it would be never again…. while holding hands and seeing the stars at the shore...

"Of stolen moments that were made of dreams…..

You wondered ..were they destined to be…?

Of being held so warm in your arms…

While you say this will not last long….

You saw into my eyes..Asked..

would this leave you more sadder?

Just when the 'end'  had  stopped to matter …

All I wanted and all you gave….were

…. stolen moments that were made of dreams."