Lost conflict

His silence angers me. 

And when they come by, 

his words drive me mad. 

No more poems for him, 

no more outbursts. 

Irritation simmers. 

This close to being tipped off, 

I notice he hasn't learned yet 

how to bite away a nail properly. 

I look up. 

Eyes braving to fake innocence. 

I look down. 

Footwear in colours 

I wouldn't dare mention together. 

He is a fool. 

I sigh. 

Just as he is effortlessly making his way in..

'You know, when I write, it..' 

'.. yeah, yeah, blahblah.'

I won't write for him. 

Promise.

Caught

Why can I still feel the cold
Of the monsoon breeze

Rush through the tussles of my hair

Even as I smell the fresh parchment

Of earth presumptuously waiting

Beneath the ominous sky?

Why do I remember
That culprit of a raindrop
That left that tiny tea stain
On the corner of your t-shirt
On that forgotten rainy day that
Bid us to halt there
For shelter and warmth?

Why did the sub-conscious
Willfully leave an audible spot
To store your scent
That it so craftily learned
To tag along with
A whiff of cigarette smoke?

Why does the stray finger
Always voluntarily trace its path
Down the spine
Of you in my eye, in the air,
Pausing, savouring,
Engulfed, enthralled?

Why does the anger refuse point-blank
To simmer down
Even as I piece and string painfully
One careless word against another,
One puckering punctuation away from another,
Cautiously spacing them away,
Lest they suffocate each other
With their brimming intensity?

Why, despite all these battles within
To arrive at a final say,
To write that final word
And be done,
And no more,
And redeem,
And stabilize,
My blunt pencil drags me,
Grudgingly, one inch at a time, closer,
To your smell, your touch,
Your taste, your breathlessness – caught in mine,
Swirling, tossing, looping, engulfing,
Satiating, throbbing, wanting
And pleading,
For more,
So much more?

Just please tell me this,
If this is not love, then, 

- Why?

Trance

Much after the lights have been turned off, my eyes hover over the familiar contours of your body. The light from the distant streetlamp seeps through the gaps of the curtains, softly gracing the outlines of your face. Your right leg is sprawled all over me, the right hand comfortably resting on the curve of my slightly disoriented hip, cradling me close enough to trace the many desires of my heart masterfully sketched all across your face.

I observe how involuntarily my body attempts to sync itself to the rhythm and pattern of your breathing. My lips part about quarter of an inch with the faintest of a pop sound, trying to inhale whatever of you hung about in the air. The ultimate test comes in willing myself to not move, freeze, building that strong electricity around, feeding every passing cruel second.

My left hand moves as though on its own, one lone, scared finger inching its rebellious way towards your face, ready to break the trance and get quenched any moment.

In one swift, artistic movement, your right arm shoots into the air and rests my outstretched hand, gently pulling me into you by my waist. The kiss is barely a whiff of air, almost magically brushing past my lips. 'Sleep,' you murmur. On the rise and fall of the tune your body carelessly strummed, my imagination had found its home.

This is how much life is.

Grab a chocolate bar or a cup of hot coffee. Snuggle in your bed. Take a deep breath. Forget who you are. Forget what you have done till now. Now read.

Fall in love. Go mad. Fall out of it. Go madder. And fall in love again. Have your heart broken at least a couple of times. Lose hope. And see it renewed in the new person to whose magic your heart tugs you to sway to. Whether it is your neighbor, your school/college mate, a random stranger you’d met on the street, colleague, friend of a friend of a friend of a friend or even a friend you’d not had love interest in until that magical moment, just fall in love. Float in the air till it lasts. Love like you’ve loved none before.

Get laid. Know that losing your virginity is simply overrated and the pain might even seem pointless. And then get to know that there is much more to lovemaking than porn movies give away. Learn the sexiness in hugging and cuddling. Master the art of almost kissing. Get to know that nothing beats sleeping within breathing distance. Stay awake long enough to feel the rise and fall in breath. Hang on till the very puff of air gives you the tingling feeling. Resist touching. Let your senses rush. Now learn the magic that touching another’s skin holds. The pulsating feeling will rise until the actual act. Several times later, you’ll know that that is how far it gets; the rest is just a formality.

Travel. Move your bottom and slowly let yourself learn and soak in new cultures. Lose yourself in the history hidden in the roads and buildings there. Strike a conversation with a random stranger. Sleep on a blanket under the night sky. Huddle in a tent in the middle of nowhere. Alright. Somewhere. Take a boat ride. Hire a string quartet. Strike a carefree romantic encounter. Go on a trekking expedition you are not so sure you’d return alive from. Come back alive from the dead. Boast of completing at least three different daredevil adventure activities. Go skinny dipping. Know what it is to actually shiver and burn. Feel like you belong and shift bases again. Have at least a couple of movie moments in your life to reminisce about when your legs no longer give way.

Read. Rediscover yourself in paperbacks. Write a few if you can. Watch movies. Try making a few. Whether you succeed or fail, you find new ways to imagine. To think. To see. To live. To love. Click pictures. In or out of focus doesn’t matter as you will eventually realize. Even the blurred memories will keep you warm on that lonely, frosty day.

Make a friend or two. One of those types that’d be for the keeps. You could go chasing dimwits and this one’d still snigger and let you rant on about your ‘soul mate’ while patiently waiting for you to get your head knocked down and come scrambling home for a hug and a beer.

Forget the past. Forget the future. Forget ifs and buts and maybes and couldbes. Let go of whatever binds you, ties you down. Let go of fears and apprehensions. Let go of what you were, what you might be. The time is always now. What is real is just you, this feeling right inside your heart. Just shut everything else down and walk right ahead. At least you won’t have to regret losing an experience. There is no lifetime. Just a huge set of experiences.

If chance brings along a daughter or a son, be sure to pass your life as a fantasy to boldly embark on one day. 

This is honestly how much life is.