I always dip the quill in the same ink pot,
Drawing its energy to form words worthy of praise,
Years have gone by and the pot still gives,
Not empty still; hence never does it fail to amaze.

My creations take birth out of that bottomless pot,
Piercingly dark against stark white,
The ink pot knows; it is my best shot,
Standing mightier than the sword’s and pen’s might.

I wonder how it never runs out of ink; the deep dense blue..
The answer is within me, I realise as the words ring true.
It gives always, unfailingly creating art,
As the blue draws itself from the stark red of my beating heart.

-

It baffles me how hungry we are.
How insatiable can a person get,
That the smallest of morsels make you drool..
That you’re willing to be played like a fool.
How hungry are you that you lick the knife dipped in chocolate; bleeding..
That you proceed to cut yourself up, never heeding..
That a bite to you is like a Michelin-star meal,
That you staunchly ignore how hungry you really feel.
That you go to bed; oft hungry, defiant and unfulfilled.
When would you realise, your hunger is right; and by meagre offerings, wouldn’t be filled.

-

I’ve never been a fan of Palate cleansers.
Why dissolve something that has satiated your hunger..
Why rob your taste buds of the playfulness they’ve indulged in?
Why erase fond memories, I wonder?

Society tells me palate cleansers are essential to move on.
That any amuse-bouche will get my hunger pangs going strong
They fail to understand that it’s not what my tongue craves but what my soul craves still..
& that only your flavour will I desire till I’ve had my fill.

-

New Moon-
On one of the seemingly normal nights,
I walk past familiarities in my room,
Seeking the ethereal and divine sights.

With careless abandon i ignore
The things demanding my attention,
Beeping devices see me walk out of the door.

When I head up the roof, much less visited
In the dark, mind you, it’s unsettling,
But not tonight, tonight I feel unrestricted.

There seems to be a stillness in the air;
Turbulent yet calming in its effect,
Is that what drew me out, casting out despair?

Whatever it may be, I do what people do often,
Slow my breath and look up to the skies,
Absently wishing on things we want should happen.

I see the moon up there, the same moon you too see.
And bask in the knowledge, that you are sharing a part of me.

The same air we breathe, the same sight we gaze at,
I wonder if the same thought birthed in your heart.
I wonder if you feel me when you look up to the moon,
Even if we stand, together in soul, but miles apart.

-

The late night thoughts these days
Are off of the people who we deem “late”
In the sense that their departure from the world,
Is done and put down in the books as “fate”

I ponder a lot over these stars in my life.
And cherish every moment breathed in their wake.
As I am left with but a limited amount of those.
So I hold on tight, for my sanity’s sake.

So tightly I hold on to those,
That I lose my grip on reality,
Instead my grip marks appear on the folds of time..
Looser is the sense of semblance and morality.

I’m tempted to escape in finality,
Away from all that tethers me still.
But I’m scared of roaming the eternity alone,
Hunting memories and gouges in my heart to fill.

I understand the true escape can never be made.
For it shall be the choicest crime of all.
Broken though I may be still,
But the warrior in me, is yet to fall.

-

21.
People count notches on their bedpost;
The degrees they’ve earned,
The amount to which their coffers are filled,
The number of hearts they’ve spurned.

I count my diary entries,
The minutes spent playing video games with you,
The lessons taught with easy grace,
The counsel as well as fights, however few.

I also take into account the minutes I spent waiting for you,
Sometimes in rain, sometimes scorching heat,
I log in the ledger of my life,
How I prayed for your every single heart beat.

I wonder who’s richer, me or every passing man?
As they’ve had a lifetime to earn their monies,
And I, just a seven- year span.

I’ll forever be wise to how kids are impressionable,
Since you’ve had a lasting impression on me.
That’s when I know I’m richer than anyone around,
As I am your brother, and forever shall be.

-

On rainy nights I lie in my favourite part of the bed.
The one I’d designated to you..
Though you’ve never been lying in it,
So it still smells of absence and sheets that are new.

I often put on the clothes I’d thought I’d wear on our first date.
Not bothering with wrinkles and all..
All I imagine is the morning after with you,
Against them, wrinkles just seem so small.

I listen to the earth’s music..
The soothing and deafening pitter-patter of the rain..
Imaging our hands entwined and warm embrace,
Dissolving anxieties and lessening my pain...

(To be continued.)

-

Strangers on a Train

As the scenery rushed by,
Idyllic countryside masking my storms private,
I wondered where the train was taking me,
My thoughts unfurled but my face was set.

There sat a stranger opposite me,
With a soothing smile in place of a usual frown,
Calmly gave off a vibe that resonated with mine,
Which made me put my unread book down.

I picked on his thoughts incessantly,
Borderline bothersome at best,
He told me of his troubles and lessons learnt,
With my role as a listener now put to the test.

As I listened, I marvelled at the familiarity of it all,
Like finding traces of summer during prime fall..
Mirrored, enhanced and uplifted I stood,
Kindness of strangers finally understood.

He was no stranger, I know now more than ever,
As the best friendships know of bonded souls,
Not hours spent frolicking where ever.

The smile returned for real this time,
The heart swelled with happiness sublime,
As I finally hopped on the journey I’d been on,
New directions achieved, and the ‘stranger’, happy continues to look on.

-

The Stranger in the Mirror
(Part 3: Salvation)

I couldn’t face him alone without any armour..
Not when my demons didn’t stand any calmer.
I took his advice and acted upon it instead..
And out to seek forgiveness I fled.

Far I travelled within my heart,
To seek out what has torn my world apart..
There in a nook my conscience stood..
Berating me on my crimes till I understood.

Then I went out literally,
To seek out my redemption for my folly.
Undergoing the penance of truth I was reborn..
Till I too, looked upon my past self with scorn.

Then I encountered every soul I’d harmed.
But in the vastness of their hearts I was disarmed..
Humanity became real and karma even more so,
And I’d delved far more into it than I’d dared to go.

I knew I was going to encounter my payback real soon,
N now I stood prepared with it heralding as more of a boon.
When it came I knew I’d withstand it without a tremor,
N then finally, I would recognise myself in my nemesis- the Mirror.

The End..?

-

The Stranger in the mirror
(Part 2 : the answer)

He spoke but I’d misunderstood the hiss..
The stranger was just too reluctant to talk.
It was as if something about me did he despise,
And try as I might, he would not balk.

But with my imploring eyes I finally could..
Plead my case to the one who in the mirror stood.
He said he hated the person I’d turned into.
To that I exclaimed, “but I’m basically YOU!”

He told me I wasn’t all that I seemed to be,
But a mere shadow of a soul that once was free.
Today I stand compromised, violated and defeated
As my own Frankenstein’s monster I’d created.

He told me,to my suffering there was no respite.
Unless I bowed down to redemption’s might.
That I too would find in forgiveness solace,
And thereby he would bear to look upon my face..

(To be continued..)

-