Showing posts with label night. Show all posts
Showing posts with label night. Show all posts

Tuesday, 7 February 2017

Remember me in parts

I have a constant picture stuck in my head. It's of you, but just your face and a blue dupatta matching your white kurta. I might have picked that up from one of your pictures. And I find ancient architecture in the background. The pale yellow walls of a fort, with dilapidated paint and scrapings peeling out of them. I see the Sun in the background, its rays shining against one-half of your face, thereby darkening the other half.

You look towards the sky and smile. You don't look at me. I'm not sure whether you know that I'm there. You smile, I look at you, and I smile back. Of all the places and forts that you have been to, I remember this picture vividly. Maybe because you took me along with you. It's not just me who takes you to places, you do that too.

So you can wander all you want, to all the places you wish to, I'll always be there smiling at you. I get this dream repeatedly, even when I'm wide awake. Someday it will turn into reality. It might not be in the way I've always expected it to be, but someday I'll live to live this dream.

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You wake me up from the slumber. I look at you and recall that you'd slept with your bra unhooked. Your breasts would have felt free. I was looking for the signs of guilt on your face in the morning. But there were none.

I'd asked you the previous night whether you'd go home or not. To which, you'd replied that you have no home. I wanted to kiss you right there when you said that, but more than that, I wanted to take you home. You got up in the morning, left the bed, stood up facing me, and hooked it back under your kurta. A small piece of your belly, perhaps that spot where my lips had made you moan the loudest, was visible for a few seconds. It reminded me of the few seconds that I had with you. Few seconds, out of the whole dark night.

You washed up and sat against the mirror, I appeared with a bottle of water and placed my lips on your left cheek, despite having the fear that you'd push me away. For the night was over. For it was way beyond 9 AM. But you didn't. It was then, that I felt I had loaned you a home, albeit only for a night.

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You ask me to remember you in parts. A whole is the sum of its parts. You are my whole and my parts. Yes, I can only remember you in parts.

The part where the lip gloss barely hid the chapping lips. The part where the scars on your face overshadowed the moles I'd drooled over. The part where your rebirth looked more beautiful than your scarred body. Also, the part where I fell in love with all these parts more than I'd ever loved the whole of you.

But, it wasn't enough to make you feel what he had made you feel on that night. I realized that there was still a part missing. A part I can neither seek nor produce. That can only be given to me by you. A part of you.


Picture courtesy: Berlin ArtParasites

Thursday, 11 June 2015

Somebody, please?

Will somebody please?
Will someone please talk to me?
I've been weighed down,
By deeds I wish I could explain
To the world that they weren't my fault
Will somebody please talk to me?

The world only witnesses the brave,
And condescends the timid.
Why is timidity such a bane?
Is it not often gifted by pain?
I've become timid and I wish
I had someone to explain!
Will somebody please talk to me?

The night isn't just time
It's a pathway, a storyline,
A graveyard, a cold storage.
Where things just lay
As barren as they are
As naked as they are,
Frozen in time, buried within layers,
Waiting for darkness to set them free.
Will someone lie down next to me?
And spend the night for free?
Will somebody please talk to me?

I'm not a person with many shades
And thus invisible to the world that's grey.
But I deserve my happy days,
Which the world often takes away.
They say it's you, and not the world,
But that's a fecal lie,
For the ship doesn't drown on its own,
Unless dismayed by the tides.
They ask to pursue happiness,
I ask, why?
Why doesn't it come naturally?
Like the rains from the sky?

I have sundry wishes,
To write the story of my life;
And make sure it's a good one.
To dictate terms, once in a while,
To fuel my ego, but drown my pride,
To hear my name resound through the aisle.
To spend without constraints,
To compete and defeat big names.
Strong biceps and a broad chest;
To lie peacefully on her naked breasts.
Will someone please talk me out of it?
And convince me that not everything is there to be had.
Will someone please talk me out of talking to people?
Oh, the irony!
Will somebody please talk to me?