30 Nov 2009


when things have been done, when things have been said...when backs are packed.
in those final  breaths before that impending end...

part 1:

Awake to the loneliest part of the day.
The sky is turquoise blue.
It is not day anymore or night yet.
Walk on the noisiest part of the road; People push as they march no-one notices the fall.
Wish it still was about the crossroads? Wish it wasn’t the dead end to the one way road, the end, is it?
It isn’t crossroads anymore; it is not about the destiny yet.
Do you want it tangy? You never wanted it to be sweet.
Is it bitter still? A little ketchup will do the trick. Doesn’t do it anymore, does it?
It just doesn’t taste the same anymore; maybe it is just about hunger now.” Ahem! Don’t they serve capsules here?”
Wish to be lonely and hate when it is silent. Wish to talk and talk; but just gasp and pass.
They laugh away, who is the jest? Mirrors talk? Do they?
You wish to be invisible, shut up and go but you don’t and just wait. Wait to be overwhelmed.

part 2:

Awake to the loneliest part of life;
Then take the walk back. Walk from a place which made a zilch of you; into a place, holding nothing of you.
Walk from alone-ness into total stupor. Walk from randomness into anarchy, into mayhem.
Walk into darkness from the only ray of light.
A blinding- glare waits at the end of the tunnel for you. Asked for that lamp with a little darkness underneath?
Exposed and raped but still untouched; were Looked at, and knocked on the heaven’s doors?
They stopped making philtre long back.
But where are the other bottles? Aren’t those marked poison anymore?
Do they call it by a name? Do they recognise it by a face? Is that yours?

Isn’t the brightest day light just a trick before it commences towards its final death.
Isn’t destination after all the last tea-shop before the dead end?
Were you smothered into the finality?

Aren't you scripting another beginning to another end?

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