to what end?

I hate it when I have to make words rhyme
It seems forced and false

I hate it when I have to justify my text; 

I think right, left or middle aligned works just fine 

I hate it when I have to hate you when I don't want to 

I hate it when I do

I hate it when I do not. 

I hate it when I do not know my limits, 

I hate it when I do not know where you end and I begin. 

I hate how I feel when you look at me, 

I hate it when you don't 

I hate this hatred more than I hate hating you 

I hate you more than I hate loving you. 

of favourite things

“Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!”


Wuthering Heights. 

Linger

Will doodling help? Maybe it will. Maybe not, I’ll draw some pictures for you. At least I can try.

It was something to be around him, to be his. Bliss? She knew she was home when she lay on his shoulder playing with that one lone strand of hair on his left arm. 

‘You snore!’ He complained every morning and then he’d embrace her and whisper quietly in her ears, ‘but you still are the cutest’.

They fought every night. They made love every morning. Bodies always found each other; translating the love that their minds weighed down upon. This was not going to last, it was obvious, a death knell could be heard softly just before the road turned; but they clung onto that last strand of laughter, that last meal together, that last walk by the beach, that last hug.

“You know I am working and then suddenly this need gets hold of me, I feel uneasy as if a certain part of me is missing, as if I am suddenly empty…I take a deep breath, feel my sweaty hands and realize I am longing for you…I miss you”

kiss

Do you remember how my lips taste? I could write a sonnet on how your lips taste, how the anticipation of the touch sends jitters down my spine…for I’d languish and resurrect in the few seconds that lead to you. Do you remember the rhythm of the breaths? Music when in silence you and I are enveloped in each other.

Do you remember the way you look looking at me? oh, but how would you? that look is forever mine.  

...

you know it is a block when you feel it like your skin and all you can do is fumble up a few words.

...

A pair of lips…a pair of hands…a pair of eyes…a pair of breasts…a pair of legs…a pair…us.

katiya karoon...saari raati katiya karoon..

tu hai na..'tu' kehkar pukaar mujhe, apna sa lagta hai...
tu mere chaadar ke silwaton me chupi teri chuppi ke sath mujhse lipta sa lagta hai....ek aur duur kahin se tu pukare to 'aaja yaar' kehkar pukar mujhe...main mud kar dekhun to muskura...mere jahan me teri hi bas ek surat hai jaise, aisa lagta hai...
...aaj raasta paar karna ho, mera hath thaam kar 'ab ruk zara' keh mujhse, mera haath tere haathon ke sath tarasha ho aisa lagta hai...
...mujhse mil, meri aankhon me jhaankh zara, meri rooh me teri jhalak si ho jaise lagta hai...


...tu kuch mujhsa lagta hai...main tu hun, tu main hun...tu kuch mujhme samaya sa lagta hai

...hadh karoon, hadh karoon....


(line in italics and the title from the song 'KATIYA KARUN' Rockstar)

"Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too."

“Come here”, he said and pulled her close. 

Theirs had been a roller coaster ride. A ride which has had more than its fair share of downs; one whose designer has been too gracious and humble to defy gravity.  They had not spoken, written for ages. Like a wildfire something had erupted between them a long time ago.

She looked at him, looking for something, what? She wasn’t too sure. She had practiced things to say, things to do. She had planned to hit him,accuse him, chide him…

Nothing existed now. Like the remains of that burnt forest, some things reminded them of a seemingly happier wistfulness. There was nothing, not even nostalgia. 

She looked for lust, there was none… He seemed too pure, too fragile almost.

She looked for love, there was none… Hadn’t she lost that bet before, lost many a times over?

There had been fights over the acceptance. There had been fights over non-acceptance. There had been fights over reluctance and fights over the ensuing indifference. They fought in silence. Yes, there never was too much noise. 

She was weary of looking.

He gave her another tug and she held him.

She held him tight. 
She held him like there was no tomorrow and wept. 

“Come here”, he had said when he pulled her close. 

 ....................................................................

...Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky...

-Pablo Neruda. 

 ....................................................................

where do you go?

She stood in front of him, naked, stark naked.

Without clothes, without masks, without hallucinations, without a single thought running in her mind.

She stood naked in front of him, stark naked.

She had always been too much to take, too pretty to look at. Too large to grasp onto, too plain to be gorgeous, too complicated to understand.

She had always been like this, always naïve, clinging on to him with all her force, yet, somehow she was far, far away from him.

There she was, naked, in her true form, in front of him.

She had always been like that; she came too strong on him. She told him how obsessed she was with him. How fascinated she was with his lips, she was jealous of the cutlery he used, she had once told him.  She was vulnerable as a child; she got hurt, made a face and walked away, not once, many times over. She had done that. Yet, she always managed to find her way back. Unlike other 3 month wonders she had lasted. He was not sure how, he never asked her to leave neither forced her to stay.

There was no way back, she knew. He had made it clear to her, he knew that she knew. 

He called her stupid. Yet, deep down he was scared, scared of the strength she had. 

She could destroy him.

Somehow he knew she wouldn't, it was not his destruction instead her annihilation that he was afraid of.  

She stood there naked;

She had given him more than he had ever asked for. More than he wanted, more than he could take. He was guilty. 
Guilty for his un-acceptance of her; guilty for the atrocities she meted out on her identities.
He kept standing, sitting, resting, covering up yet never moving.

She asked a lot of questions. Everything about her asked him questions.

He didn’t know answers to them himself; some he just didn’t want to answer.

She was persistent.

He wasn’t helping.

He wished she would just stay, not ask questions, just let time flow, and not rush.

He wished she would let him be. 
Let him understand himself first; let him know where he stands before he could tell her where she stood in his life.

Let him make up his mind,gather enough strength to let her go; enough strength to let him cut loose off her.

She stood there naked in front of him, she scared him.

He finally held her, for he was afraid she would collapse.

She slept in his arms. He was awake. He kept wide awake. 


He keeps wide awake.

 .......................................................

desire

the longing does not satiate

the inability to hold you kills me deep inside.

i haven't tasted your lips but i can feel them on my mouth. 

i haven't tasted your tongue but i can see it slithering inside me. 

to have your arms around me i would kill.

is it lust?
i disagree.

is it not?
  i cannot deny. 

your eyes lingered on my skin...

long enough to make me wet inside.

i bloated and floated at the same time. 

i shrunk and flew at the same time.

i haven't seen you in days it only adds to the delight. 

the sweet pang of being the kill that you left...left in the lurch to die.
agonized with misery, yet i look at myself with envy and pride.

you chose me to fall in the trap...hand-picked before you could have me tried. 

tourtured and tormented with tantalising thoughts of us close.

your eyes hyptonising me, ravaging me, feeling me.

all over me.


you all over me. 

her: "why should i stay in-satiated?

why ain't i allowed the philter?"

him: "what good is satiation?

what good are desires when fulfilled?"

................................

“A woman's appetite is twice that of a man's; her sexual desire, four times; her intelligence, eight times”

ek shakl hai jo aankhon se hat ti nahin.

ek ehsaas jo adhoora hokar bhi pura hai.

ek khamosh main hun. 

ek khamosh se tum.

khamosh tum me, main apna geet dhundhti.

khamosh khud me, tumhara aks. 

-------/--\--------

sham tanha si lage

roothe naina, mohe na chaina...
kya haalat hai meri main kaise kahun.
tere aane se, tere jaane se...
main adhura reh gaya.

-sham tanha, agnee

-------/--\--------

Raindrops on My Windowpane

Don’t you feel jealous when they touch me like that?

When they feel my skin and wet it like that?

Doesn’t it hurt you to know that I revel in their sound and that your voice, in the song of the raindrops, dies out?

Do they mock you when I am theirs?

They do that to me…

I hate then when they feel your lips

I hate them charting their ways into your being

They kill me when they drown my sound;

They burn me when they touch you when I am not around.

Raindrops on my window panes live like me

One drop at a time, one moment it is

One moment they are born they fall and then die

They are no tear drops, no.

No children of desire they are; No wanting or need.

They are the result of a game played; of a connived history.

photo courtsey : ad-infinitum

 -------/--\--------

Death stands above me whispering low/i know not what into my ear/of his language all i know is/ there is not a word of fear- Walter Savage Landor

applaud..yes applaud the newest kill.

it fired me up. it gave me the thrills.

i walked over to walk up to again.

i passed by a thousand times.

i hammered in the nails in the coffin and buried my past.

the rust and the worms inside the clayey me; catalyzed by the inability to hold gave way,

gave way and the ghosts returned to haunt the glee.

the damning recluse's existence marred with self-induced misery.

the virgin’s fucked up without the penetration.

raped off of the music...of the dance of the soul.

i laugh at the mirror...i laugh at god's mockery.

the beautiful skin, the smile, the eyes and nothing at all to see.

embracing the corpses of ethics i slayed all my way.

i sign parchments of confessions as i lay there dead.

can nor cannot want you...

sms 1 [from Y to X]: "she hugged me yesterday and i dint feel a thing.."
sms 2 [from X to Y]: hmm.

does she look you in the eye and tell you how you feel?
does she know You are for real?
does she feel warm and secure in your embrace?
does she feel the fondness in your gaze?

or do you?

do you think of me when she looks at you knowingly?
am i around when the laughter rings clear?
am i there when the smile starts in your lips...am i at the coffee house?
am i there when  you look in her eyes...do you search for me in the mist of her eyes?

did you buy it...or found it lying around?

did you put in your pocket or  tucked somewhere in you....somewhere deep down?

am i lost or am i loosing you?

-----------------------------------

[i was suggested by someone that i write  a P.S. footer for better understanding of the posts..here goes]

P.S.: X and Y were in love. now they seem to be moving on, away from each other after a breakup. X informs Y of a new girl....

"And with the morn those angel faces smile.. Which I have loved long since and lost awhile."

And now I think I have lost touch.

And now I think I haven’t seen much.

I looked for you everywhere

Have I lost you? I haven’t got a clue.

Are you still around the corner?

Oh! How that time flew.

The dark blanket covers my sky.

I stand there and gaze at the moon in sight.

The time did fly, and the night passed by,

I couldn’t get enough but couldn’t really go out and fight.

I walked through the lane,

I saw them sitting on our bench.

I wanted to tell them it was mine.

But I couldn’t; it wasn’t ours and neither was the time.

Time is the thief, notoriously oblivious to the apprehensions it carries,

I laughed and cried, and lived amongst the fairies.

But where is that place where the nun buried;

Buried, her passions, that love and those sweet cherries?

And now I think I have lost touch.

And now I think I haven’t seen much.

(quote by Newman.)

i remember

वो सर्द रातें याद हैं;
इन आंखों को तेरा इंतज़ार याद है.
नींद लुक्का चुप्पी खेलती;
सपनो में वो धुंधलाता चेहरा याद है.
तेरी तस्वीर से सौ बातें करती आँखें;
पर तुझसे कुछ कहने का डर , और वो होंटों का थरथराना याद है.

छुपा छुपा कर तुम्हे देखना याद है,
और तुम्हे देझते ही शर्म से लाल हो जन याद है.
तेरी नज़रों के छुते ही इस बदन का सज जन याद है;
और इस लाली को छुपाने की सौ कोशिशें करना याद है.

हर अल्फाज़ को नकारने के बाद;
उसी बात को हज़रून बार दोहराना याद है.
तुमसे दांत खाना याद है, तुम्हारे सामने रोना याद है.
गीली आंखों से तुम्हारा चेहरा देखना याद है;
उस चेहरे को चुने की कोशिश करते,
उस चेहरे की याद में वो गीले तकिये पे कटी रातें याद हैं.

हाँ वो तेरा इंतज़ार याद है.
वो मेरा पहला प्यार याद है.

Your eyes

“I look around.
I see you looking at me.
Intent. Convinced. Brazen.
I look away.
You keep looking.
Your gaze fixed.
Fixed intently, so much so, as if you’re looking right through me.
Like my being wasn’t of consequence.
You’ve overpowered me.
My life is yours.
My soul is yours.


“jis tan ko chua tune us tan ko chupaun;
Jis man ko lage naina wo kisko dikhaun”


I don’t have to say the words.
You say them for me.
My sentences completed even before I have to utter them.
I am satisfied even before my desires take shape.
You strip me naked;
Exposing my wants; my desires; out in the open.
Yes out in the open.
Without having anyone else notice them.
No- one else has the right to scrutinize me.
I’m yours.
You hunt my shame down killing it.
Asking me questions I can’t help but answer.
I lie.
I lie, wanting to tell the truth.
But, I know that you know.
I know that you understand.
The questions weren’t asked for the answers;
They were for you to catch the glimpse of my eyes battling your gaze.
Yes, I know you know it all.




“I’m on fire when you’re near me.
I’m on fire when you speak,
I’m on fire; burning up at these mysteries.”
--------------------------------------------------------

far away.

Liaisons with grief…
Going strong since eternity.
Lust masked amid love,
Despair draped in hope;
Obscure images registering a face…
A face: “far away “

A bittersweet sarcasm
Passion hard to fake.
Life torn and ripped apart.
And the Philter drained.
Obscure images registering a face…
The visage… oh so intangible.

rains.

could there be hope?
could there be light?
could there be anything that is bright?

life has just ceased to be,
and here,sets this melancholy
god sent rhe rain
what good did it serve
when misty eyes saw it all before
it drained away all that was left
for me to clench on hug and pair.
the clouds made it all grey

grey grey was all around.

The winter rain washes it all...

A new beggining or another end ,
just to live it all over again.
The chill runs down my spine,
with the goosebumps tellin me a story not entirely mine.
The birds chirp, the trees sway,
the wind blows it all away.
The afternoon dotted,damped by the grey clouds,
me here, wants to shout out aloud.
Ha! the rain damps and blurs my speech,
and pushes forth this new beggining.
A new beggining or an end, to live it all over again.