Ashes

I walk through ashes
Left behind
From the fire 
that consumed my dreams.
The ones I concocted 
As a little girl
Sprawled on the grass
Under a tree
beneath the sky
Of chocolate houses 
And unicorns 
Swaying with the swings
thinking-
monsters are four legged
And fairies have wings.
The dreams 
Uninhibited Vast 
Lark, Open. 
 
Quite a fire it was 
Ignited by a spark
Of doubt. 
 
I walk through ashes
That fly
From the fire that
emblazoned my reveries 
The ones I concocted 
Sitting in the classrooms 
Bedrooms, parks and places 
Comprehending the
quagmires of the system
And their measures 
of artistry
Knowledge 
Decorum and
Duties  
Via books and lengthy monologues 
Telling me about the foundations 
And a way of life.
 
Quite a furnace 
it was 
Ignited by incongruity
Of the preacher that practiced
Hypocrisy and atrocities. 

I walk through ashes
Left behind
From the fire 
Which consumed my dreams
From when I was younger 
And walked with a 
Cloak of invincibility
That years 
Will bring clarity
Less, if not much 
Half, if not full 
And a Change
shall commence 
Sooner or later
For 
They must 
see their oversight,
their error.  
The dreams 
of walking alone
For those who seek love 
are weak and imbecile
And friendships don’t fray
Just as flowers don’t wither,
That honesty must win 
hard work must pay.
 
Radiant it was 
The pyre of 
My visions and dreams
Or lies force fed to me 
In legacy. 
 
And then the world tells me
They think I have changed
In ways they don’t recognize 
Of course!
Of course,
They do not recognize 
The immolation, the devouring 
Of my dreams, in the fire
That raged within me 
An inferno in my core 
That singed my soul 
Time after time
They tell me
I am not the same
But they do see a
Flicker of
light in my eyes
And 
a fleck of ember
When i speak
at times. 
Caught off guard
I don’t know what to say. 
I lean forward
Closer to their ear 
Unsure how else to cover  
I clear my throat 
And I tell them-
Likewise. 
 

The Search

man-in-feild

At some point in time, we all tend to be lost in this strange labyrinth of life, not just because it is uncertain, challenging and demanding but because just sometimes one stumbles upon a realization that there is a void and nothing ever seems to fill it.

 

Sometimes in to the nights so dark,
sometimes into my thoughts so deep
I look for you with all my heart
up till where my eyes can see.

I look for happiness
I look for peace
I look for something
that shall mean something to me.

I tried for clothes
I tried for books
I tried for drugs
still my hunt didn’t cease.

I don’t know what’s written for me
I wonder if ever anything is written for anybody
I wonder if life is just a journey
Or a bubble, a dream-so momentary.

Not always are my paths so right
At times I walk without the light
At times into the forests so dark
I keep wandering till the last.

So my heart sings me a song
tells me these thoughts are a Pandora’s box
tells me to listen to what It says
but like a wild feather, the heart sways and sways.

A travesty, a game, a drama or desire
Questions, confusions, a truth so satire
A deck of cards or a house of one
many conjectures to this world.

still I look for it
up till where my eyes can see
into the nights so dark,
and my thoughts so deep.

 

(Originally written in 2011.)

Rainbow in my head

When Siddhant came back from work he saw that the front door of his two bedroom apartment was wide open. He kept his office bag down on the couch as his eyes scanned through the apartment. He saw that the closets were ajar with clothes lying all over the floor. Even the fridge door open, kitchen cabinets emptied and house in a complete disarray. “Must have been in a great hurry”, he thought to himself.  He went inside his bedroom and was not surprised to see that the locker was open and the cash was missing. He felt a knot inside his stomach.

He called his brother but his phone was switched off. He paced across the hall for a few minutes contemplating his next move. He reached out for one of the open kitchen cabinets and fetched an old bottle of whiskey which he used either when he was ecstatic or morose.  He made himself a drink and finally dialed 100.

‘Police station.’ said a coarse voice across the phone.

Siddhant immediately disconnected the line.

Continue reading “Rainbow in my head”