She's the red rose girl

She's all the roses in the world

The look in her eyes

asking me why

And honest to God

I did not know

But I could have lied

Instead of watching her die

She will live on long after

the world's long gone

She's the red rose girl

She's all the roses in the world

 

Pink flowers that can never in my garden grow

so wild and with such joyous abandon

He looks over her shoulders at the pretty girl on the platform while

his arms are still around her and perfunctorily smiling

at the something silly she's saying, laughing at "I don't know what she said"

she looks up at him adoringly in a relationship never meant to be

The train moves on...

 

UNQUENCHED

https://www.amazon.in/Glorees-Poems/dp/B0C2D27V6B

We closed account long back, didn't we

when we moved our different ways

or just that maybe skills were lacking then to say

I love you

I want to be with you

What has life taught us since then?

Some better communication skills?

Pronunciations, prepositions...

and a travesty of lies

that if you lace it all back to back

and one by one

lead right back to where it all started

with us still unable to voice our thoughts

with us still waiting.

 

YOU ONCE MORE

Do not blow life into a dead mind

that has not just renounced life but

denied there could be any beauty in it

that when the smallest of fires is lit within

will make the heart beat faster

the butterflies in the stomach flutter

and suddenly there is Sun in every diamond-like dewdrop

the Peepul tree has tender leaves again

the cold refreshing breeze blows through the hair, and

the flowers are fragrant once more...

Yes, do not blow life into a dead mind

that has forgotten how to love

lest it hurt all over again

lest the rains fall, and 

tears never stop flowing

Let the cold winter be

 

IT' SURE FELT RIGHT...

Maybe the rains should not have fallen so hard 

outside the window

the pitter patter of raindrops on leaves

the day slowly darken so early in the morning

the wet sparrows on the railing beneath the red tiles of the roof

shaking out the water and squabbling

maybe we should not have watched them together and smiled

maybe it should not have been so warm and cozy inside the room

or the lights so dim throwing shadows

maybe there should not have been the proximity

that made us look into each others' eyes

throwing out into open the blatant truth we tried so hard to deny

maybe your touch was the warmth I sought on a cold day

your breath in mine, knowing your fragrances for the first time

maybe we should not have kissed and blocked out the world

Maybe it was all a mistake...

 

 

TEACHERS AND THE TAUGHT

Not very fond of teachers, 

and they were never really fond of me. 

All I can remember of my teachers 

(this includes my parents, siblings, husband and kids

 - and sometimes, friends) 

is their hauling me up for something or the other. 

They seemed quite convinced I was edges all over, 

needing trimming and shaping

Did I learn anything from them? 

Have to admit grudgingly, everything I know.

 

EXCUSE ME

 

 

It's my immaturity

My lack of control

How convenient the excuse!

And yet it's true

we are not always 

masters of ourselves

and every act of evil

that fell our way

governed by 

someone's lack of control

or our own.

I WISH

 

I wish Love would conform

to its definition 

of being the most gentle of emotions

of being unconditional, unselfish

understanding, giving

patient and kind

instead of the way

it seeks revenge, competes

desires...lusts

fights, scratches

keeps score and scorns

but all Love seems to know

and say

is no matter what

its here to stay

PAIN

Not around the periphery of my womb

nor around the circumference of my heart - 

fusing the hemispheres of my brain

so they function as on

with only one thought.

Across the skies and oceans and streams and mountains and deserts and the Universe...and beyond

even permeating the sanctum sanctorum of my innermost self

I never drew boundaries that would not let you in,

and yet

Today I stand

holding on to a tiny straw

with fear lest even that tiny little window of hope 

that you have left me holding on to so tight

be taken away.

 

My soul has a hearing

I deny all the time

but I can’t explain

away the pain

when you shout

for no reason or rhyme

My soul has a sight

I deny all the time

but I can’t explain

away the pain

when you slap

for no reason or rhyme

My soul has a voice

I deny all the time

and it tells me again

and again

walk away when you’re made to cry

for no reason or rhyme.

 

As I grow older

I am more empathetic

towards my own soul

for years I have let her bear

the brunt of my living

bearing her down and demanding

she put up with vile and disrespect

be taken for granted

trampled upon

and passed over

But now, as I grow older

she is all that matters

ensconced within me my soul

childlike, pure and sacred

do not fly away yet

Life is not done.