A bridge

I had seen you
Around for so long
That I thought
You would stay around
Forever.

Forever,
Is such a loosely
Overused word.
But perhaps
at some point
We trick ourselves into
Believing that
No matter what,
few things are here to stay.

Stay because they
are too weak to
leave.

Leave and go where?

Where else would you
rather be than stay with
Me.

Me- I never fussed
Enough

Enough about why
You don’t take your medicines
Or go see a doctor
Or go for that walk-
Or see that therapist
You have been putting off
For years.

For years, I listened to
you so indifferently-
Scrolling meaninglessly
Through my phone,
Seeing things I will never remember.

Remember?
Hah!
They call it
attention deficit
hyperactivity disorder.

Disorders that
cannot be seen
Are so insidious
Just yesterday, I was trying to
Guess if I am
Depressed
Or bipolar
Or PMSing.

PMSing? You asked
‘I think I am PMSing too.’
And neither of us laughed
Because we know it might be true.

Truth is that even
you thought,
we would be around
Forever

‘Forever’, though
Is such an overused,
Abused word.

You see, the chasm separating
psyches
is the toughest
to bridge.

A bridge

painted in
a shade called facade which
carefully disguised
our
Idiosyncrasies.

Idiosyncrasies so stark
They couldn’t sit
Next to each other,
Let alone lay.

The rain washed
over that facade and

That bridge
is burned, so
Absolutely
Completely
Permanently
That now
the silence sits
in my mouth
rotten from
unspoken words
of love and tenderness. 

And I know for a fact,
That this void,
this emptiness,
this chasm-
Is here to stay
forever.

Forever, you see
After all
Is not such a loosely
Overused word.

🌻

A shadow engulfs
My heart
When i remember
The sunshine
My lover was

And like a little girl
Off i went
Running in the park

Mother said,
Come back, before it gets dark.

But I was gone too far.

I was helpless.
For one doesn’t
Escape the sunlight.
One can only surrender
And so I did,
I ceded.

Threw in the towel,
And lay down on it.

Soaking in the golden sun
With every inch of me
Drowsed by the fondness
Of the tempest heart,
Raging to be devoured.

I don’t know
how long
I lay there
I wish it were a lifetime
Because when I woke up
It was dark, and
Winter had arrived

And now,
the night doesn’t end.

A new year?

I woke up this morning
And looked outside the window
To the same view
Constant for months now
10 months to be exact –
A quiet yellow house
jaded by rain and sun
With a rusted red door
And a black car
I think,  a Wagonar
That disappears at 9
and reappears at 7,
Sharp.
Dutifully parked across the
asphalt abraded road.
But I know the house has
residents
As they sun dry their clothes
In their verandah
On an aluminum stand
Near a banana tree
That refuses to grow any taller.

But they say
A year has gone by.
A year, is it?

True it must be
As it was this cold,
A long time back
When we wore 2 pairs of socks
And sweaters and pants.

Also, some people have
Made their presence scarce.
But alas, sooner the better.

Yes, a year must have gone by
For I don’t remember much from
That life.
The one before the virus.

Yes, the virus
That succeeded in breaking
My body but
Not my spirit
As I came back
Even stronger than before;
Ready to take on
Whatever comes next
And so did many others
For there is no other way to go on
Than to go on fearlessly.

Outside, the winter air
Hangs heavy with silence
Of those who mourned the past
10 months
From the loss of lives and livelihood.
Their heads
Scarred yet unbowed.

But apart from that
Everything is pretty much
Constant
yet they say,
A year has gone by.
I don’t believe them.

New Beginnings

The earth moved a full circle and
I too sprawled a little further
hoping to find a few answers
quench a few yearnings
Forgot this I
There are some open questions
rhetoric ones too and
I find myself
caught in a raging storm
of both universes
one outside me
while one within
Both as real as me, myself
conflicting as they could be
creating answers virtual and reversed
Tangible but unreal
but I am only human
I strive to go on
For I look forward to the calm
after the storm
They say a smooth sea never
made a skilled sailor
So I will sail further
adjust to the winds
For the winds
cannot be changed
but I can be.