// Memoryvores

I wish I could say
I suffer from monthly amnesia!
It costs a soul to wriggle out
The webs of every month.

Some slices of past attachments
Are still stuck to the floors
Of my routine that I can't mop off.
Bear! But how long? Share! But till when?

Whose songs I am keyed to sing?
Whose lyrics are turned into my rhythms?
Whose loads are put on my head?
Whose stories are read to me often?

Some flashbacks of old memories
Crack the shell of my presence
And enter into everything normal
Only to hack them and make malfunctional.

Those agonizing thoughts are memoryvores
That worsen the immune my spiritful memories!
Such thoughts survive in silent loneliness
And in the utmost nonchalance of mine.

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For the unattained affection
Stretched and separated long
As the climber plants break off
After a piece of land slides away
In continuous burst of rains.

The stretched parts survive
With the remaining deep roots
The survivors of inner injuries
Are akin to Indian banyan trees
Stormed, stretched and separated
Yet resilient, robust and rooted!

The futility of realizing nothingness
Against the very fact of conviction
Is fallacy of this howling century.

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// Time Passes

Times passes
Or rather gets stuck
In the pair of my eyes:
(Im)patient behind the bars
Yet staring with eagerness.

Loneliness is a voracious termite
That is eating up my soul.
Your framed photo on the table
Your calls, video calls and chats
Substitute not your liveliness.

Ah! I don't want to frame myself
Inisde these perturbed waiting eyes
Behind the bars and my inner scars
And mirror you in incessant drops
Bringing the feel of silly flashbacks.

Hours after hours I hallucinate you
On that sofa reading poems to me
Explaining how to measure the depth
Of emotions, the gravity of dialogues
The silence of void and etcs...

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// What A Shape It Is!

Have you ever counted
Stars in the milky ocean
When the moon is crimson?
If not, do it with full heart!
I search those when alone.

Is my heart falling like a star
Broken and coming down
Into the loneliest place?
Soluble! Soluble! Soluble!
Desires, dreams, despairs!

Acute helplessness beats
Hard on the anvil of life!
Heated! Heated! Heated!
Hammer it! Hammer it!
What a shape it is! Or...

A golden cage I'm making
Putting myself inside it.
Believing myself a parakeet
Untamed and unassociated
Speechless and hapless creature.

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// The Castle

Yes, I've seen castles in blood
Red walls, red doors, red windows...
Who doesn't float in the pool
Of emotions? Who is exception?
A butterfly flints in that castle
Wherever she flies and settles
Things turn green and lively.
As if the castle needs it!
Nothing ominous stays in it
But there conjure some intentions
With vengeance and envy
With few lurking questions:
Who owns the castle now?
Is it the blood or the butterfly?

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// The Leftovers of History

Then, there left everything closed!
The windows slapped themselves.
The doors hushed their wooden lips.
The walls looked shocked and horrified.
The silence drowned into the darkness
And the darkness into the uncanniness!
These people transformed into those people
Some loom sprouted in the room.
The wall clock tied the time's flock.

The cracks up and down are stories.
The wooden worms house in the furniture.
Alive, attached and avaricious they are.
Let them feast on the frozen cake inside.
Aren't we eating one another every day?
Time is eating day, month, year and us.
We're eating time, place and other things.
Time is eating time. Place, place. We, we.
Other things are eating other things.
Other beings are eating other beings.
Is history eating history with some leftovers?

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I find the solace
That my soul yearns for.
The metros blare their
Horns of corporate vehicles.

Great hustle and great bustle
Throng of people to jostle.
My eyes are moving with
The rush-brushed and unhushed
Tied to their necks and desks.

Manifestation, meaning, money
Engraved in the eroded pavement
Where slippers and shoes lick
The colours of those strong bricks
What a senseless robotic movement!

I'm afraid of being a worn out
Wire of the AI device
That understands my searches
That meddles with my metapsyche
Altering my mind urging for the solace.

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// you & i

You bared your soul with naked body
I covered you with flowered touch of mine.

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A novel in a series of poems
That begins in medius res!
It is a plot of disjointed moods,
Of events of fractured feeling,
Of tide and ebb of heavy emotions.

Who is the protagonist of this tale
Or around whom and what does it revolve?
I know not how it evolves day by day
And how it is going to end or begin again.
Expressions dominate all chapters.

Each chapter is an influx of poem
Centrality is the fluid personality.
Tiny poems mirroring tiny realities
The dialogues of the metaphors
Glue the events and fuel their progression.

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// 14th June 2025

It's Saturday evening and the phone rings
When an abrupt burst of buried memories
Reverses the today's clock back to those days
Of titters and giggles, of snippets of walk and talk,
Of care and share, of rebukes and retaliations.

The voice I know owing to old familiarity
Or rather more of an affinity of affection
Again I become the I and she becomes the she
Whom the mighty waves pushed once afar,
But everything has to settle down, even a faud.

Matter it doesn't if her morning is my evening
And the stern and always-anxious Time
Comes in between the long awaited waves
To blow the dying embers of the fire for ablaze
Only to burn those sprouted grudges and apologies.

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