Just a Buoy on the Waters

The rain beating down on these untiring waves, is both unmerciful and unrelenting
Call it a perpetual storm or just passing clouds unloading
But who can pass any judgment at all when the storm’s been brewing in another’s head?
For who after all can really resurrect the living dead?

Many a ship have come a-sailing, their masts aflutter like proud bastions of hope!
All sailing at first with an air of gallant purpose, all seemingly poised to mark a never-hence-and-never-before!
But who can reason when those very ships have made haste retreat in the face of invisible tempests?
Who can really make peace in the aftermath of empty conquests..?

Nay, point not a finger and look not my way,
I am just a buoy upon those turbulent waters, dancin’ to the waters' sway
Just a solitary buoy on the waters running wide and deep…
Mine is not to ponder why, mine is but to stay anchored while they their deep dark secrets keep.

Patience and Hope

We sit side by side, solemnly staring and pondering over what seems to be nothing and everything at the same time. Is it over the mysteries of life? I think not. More like wandering about the meandering streets of our own minds, lost in a manner of being all blanked out. There is a sense of knowing, there is certainty, a level of assurance, of being able to return right back into the moment. Yet we don’t stir, we just sit there in stark silence. Side-by-side. Glancing, both of us at disparate things. In different directions.

There are a half dozen people around us, but it’s still like it’s just the two of us in isolation. At least to me it is. Everything around is such a blur. Everyone is lost in a world and thoughts of their own and it just adds to the silence. Only makes it easier to fade out the surroundings. There’s soft music in the background, but who really knows what number’s playing or even if it’s playing still. There’s much more to concentrate on with the silence of the humans.

We’re companions of some sort on some level.  Can we be more? Who knows, really. But we just sit and soak in the silence. The kind of silence that hangs about so thick that one can almost cut it with a knife. A synchronized, weary and dense silence.

Idly, I pick up my phone and start random conversations with a few. There’s still that almost deafening silence that I can feel in every cell of my body, while my fingers type away furiously. The phone's battery is running out, but mindless of that fact, I pour over my conversation, as if lost in the very act. You just ruminate. I can sense your eyes over my shoulders. Perhaps you read me on more levels than one. Both figuratively and literally. I actually want that. Your presence thus far has added a silver lining to the dark cloud that has been looming around for days. Your being around has made me feel alive again, if only for a bit. It’s revived a feeling that I thought I had lost for good. And I want to share that sense of feeling alive again with whoever I can find to listen. And all this while, the very thought of you looking over my shoulder keeps me going, keeps me at the mundane act of passive communication with another. More of a charade. All playing out to the audience created by just you and me, in the midst of the silent lot.

Time ticks on. A poignant reminder of how very little in terms of minutes we have left together before we meet again. Yet, there is no attempt at conversation. Not even a weak attempt at one. Yet, I feel like we have been having an interaction, just you and me. The charade, remember? And as we get closer to parting ways, fully aware that it will be days before I see you again, I want time to freeze. Even if it’s all going to be just a stopgap arrangement, I want us to be frozen in time, together. I want our moments together to last. Even if it’s in all in silence, even if you in your own mind are not really with me. I want time to stand still. Cause you are with me. Just next to me.

It’s almost like we’re two strangers in the night. But true strangers for how long can we be? Will our future interactions and the times to come, however few and far between they may be, reveal me to you and you to me?

It’s strange that I even wonder about this connection of ours over and over again, trying to make sense. After all, it came to me most unexpectedly, descending gently and pleasantly like a butterfly onto the outstretched palm of my hand. The very realization of it all was both extremely moving and quite disturbing at the same time. As I battle hard with my own conscience to dispel the overwhelming guilt I feel at having overridden my own self-imposed principles and in my needing you, your smile, your soft voice, your very presence, all whilst being fully aware of our disposition. Deep within I know that this need for you in my world, this feeling of rejuvenation and of pure bliss that you bring about in me is not something to be ashamed of, as there's something so intrinsically human in it that I can't deny or wish away even if I wanted to. And despite it all, the magic of your very essence is now indelibly etched in my mind and being forever, that much I can tell. How this came to be, when all of this started and where it would all go eventually, I do not know. All I can do really is to patiently wait for it to be to someplace nice. All I can hope is for our journey together to last despite knowing how far apart we really are on many levels.

For Hope has a strange way of keeping a person looking forward to the seemingly impossible, believing and willing that impossibility to turn to reality at any given moment.

And Patience affords one a sense of calm reassurance in a way that makes one believe that hope is not in vain and that very thing one hopes for shall come to be someday. 

So I continue to live with patience and hope as I always have.

Lastly, strange as all of this may seem or even be, I believe that it’s certainly not a strange coincidence that you did, at such a difficult time, revive a part of me that I had come to accept as long gone, numb and dead. And for that and much more, I am yours in gratitude.

Mellow Love: A different shade but just as vibrant!

Time has this weird way of smoothening out rough edges of someone’s personality, ironing out the creases of another’s character and in some others like yours truly, making wild emotional expression tame. This is not saying wild as in irreverant, uncontrolled or harmful, but rather wild as in just completely throwing oneself in in almost reckless abandon. Wild as in something that may seem short of madness, even amusing at times to a clueless bystander.

The more one gives it thought, one comes to realize that it’s not just in the expression but also in the perceived, experienced intensity of feeling. The rush, the flights of fantasy, the impulsive outbursts of expression, the euphoric, heady feeling that rises and ebbs in seemingly continuous, unending cycles of incomprehension… where is all that now? How far gone is it to even be able to bring a part of it back if only just to cherish or reminisce and not to relive all of the same euphoria?

 Would have gladly grabbed the bull by its horns and declared that love matures over time. But if that were true then it would totally contradict the remnants of open, trusting naivety so raw and so vulnerable that seems anything but matured with age and experience. 

I bring this up with a sense of acute nostalgia. One that surfaces from time to time and makes me wonder and look for answers when it peaks and yet savour the mystery and evolution of sentiment at all other times in between.  

What was once much more than a blazing fire, almost like a bush fire threatening to spread and consume all that’s in its way, is more like a quietly glowing candle-flame. Still bright enough to dispel any darkness and comfortingly warm in its purpose, this transformation and transition has crept up on me over time, leaving me with an equal sense of awe and wistfulness and often wondering if ever the candle will light a roaring fire someday; one that seems so distant and almost impossible to recall in all its glory.  

Now there’s nothing wrong or amiss about quiet, controlled, almost restrained feelings of love. It’s just a different shade, another hue but as vibrant a feeling as ever! But among the questions that go unanswered is one that stands out and can’t be put to rest just as quietly.

Humour me, if you will… But is it really that time has mellowed this eternally-burning emotion down to a glowing ember or does it just take a spark more fierce and true than the ones of late to set the same roaring, blazing fire of aeons ago, ablaze again? Can love ever be mellow or is it just in patient hibernation waiting to be woken up from its deep and prolonged slumber by one as yet unknown and elusive? Guess this is something that only time will tell. 

The Night and the Star-crossed Lover

The night whispers to the blowing wind..
Beseeching it to pause for  just a bit...
And carry forth onward with it..
All hidden in those dark wisps of the late night hour...
The words of a star-crossed lover.

So deep, so true, yet barely is any utterance made as his lips part..
Of the words that he clutches so close to his heart..
For the message that he holds so tight, so dear
Are the very words that she refuses to hear.

He has just learnt to let it be...
Leaving it to the mysterious ways of time...
But just sitting in stark silence, his feelings are often mimed..
To whoever cares to see them in this great world so blind.

But the night still beseeches the wind
Unrelenting in its plea as she who won't listen..
Untiring in its mission as the time that rushes by...
The night once again bids the wind to carry her lover's words across to her.
For it knows he won't say it..
That he will now only hold them close to his heart.
His steadfast, beating heart...
A heart filled with an all-consuming, unflailing love for her and her alone. 

When Beauty Lies in the Eyes of the Beheld - A tribute to the one with the beautiful eyes...!

Shimmering like stars reflected in deep pools of black, those beautiful doe-eyes of yours allure.....
Inviting me to come immerse and lose myself in them,
All until our eyes meet and then I'm not so sure of myself anymore.
So I look away hoping you've not caught my furtive glance.
And I try to resist the power they exude only to realise that I don't stand a chance.

As I stumble backwards, as if hit by a bolt out of the blue.
I know it's all because of that one look from you.
For looking into your eyes I feel like I am looking right into the depths of this universe
As all at once I come up against such enchanting beauty that I cannot describe with mere words.

And for days on end, I've dreamed of them.
But today I express it in prose and rhyme.
And ask you, O' one with those magnificent eyes.....
Will you be mine?

For such soulful eyes that mesmerize
I have never before seen
If only I could tell what secrets they hold and the places they have been.
But maybe someday those very eyes will speak to me in a language of their own.
And reassure me that I'm not in this alone.

The Dreamer and the Doer; Will the Twain Ever Meet ?

You're the doer, I am the dreamer...
I keep dreaming away, while you keep doing away with those very dreams.
You tend towards practicality and I just hang onto intangible hope.
I conjure up a world with no barriers, where nothing is insurmountable, and anything is possible, if you will it to.
In your practical world there are barriers, those that tell you it's not all that straightforward or simple; barriers that stand in your way.
But do you really see those barriers, are they really there ?
Or are we both just the same, differing only in our levels of assumed optimism ?
And then comes the inevitable question, looming over our heads, as I dream on and you continue to do what you've gotta do........
Will the twain ever meet ?
Will time make it happen ?
Who can tell ?
After all I am the dreamer. I visualise time.
I drift between the present and the future that I have envisioned for us.
My hopes and dreams give me all the assurance I need.
My only worry is, can your sense of astute pragmatism afford you the same ?

Waiting still...................................

I waited and watched as the sun went down

In the distance, beyond the horizon, as it immersed its golden crown

I waited with hope held close to my heart

I waited for you to come back, to never depart.

This time I believed you would surely show up

Discounting all the other times you had stood me up

But alas, how vain is trust that never learns

How foolish is my love for you that despite me, will eternally burn?

If.......................

If I could make you see

How beautiful you are to me

Would you be mine, for all eternity?

If I could make you feel

And realize my love for you is real

Would that seal our deal?

If I could make you sing

Make you shout out in joy and give you wings

Would you fly over to me ?

If I can make you smile

I’d consider it worth my while

If I can make you blush

Just maybe a momentary rush

It’d be enough to make me gush

And be proud of myself and say..

Finally I’ve made my own day!

Not Your LoveFool

I gave you my heart, my soul, my all
And stood by you, unflinching and tall
While you made up your mind, only to change it again
It never once occurred to me, that maybe for you, love was just a game.

To think that all I sought was your love in return
Only to find myself being left to rot and burn.
But I braced myself through every emotional squall
And when the time came, I willingly took the fall................
All the while not caring about how much I hurt inside,
Knowing only too well that I was just another muse to you,
That you’d soon leave my side.

Although everyone around me could clearly see
The truth of what you were doing to me
I turned a blind eye, I kept the faith going strong
Telling myself that this can never go wrong.

And finally when you turned your back on me,
Choosing to walk away (with someone else)...
Did you seriously believe that I would stay...
Keep waiting for you, forever and a day..?

Sure, I gave you all the time and space you needed,
And through it all, I kept my cool..
But that's not to say, I'm your lovefool !
That's not to say I'm your lovefool...
No, I am Not Your Lovefool ……………...!

Can't Keep You Away From Me

I can't seem to get you outta my head..
From the time I open my eyes, till the time I get back to bed,
I keep thinking of you all through the day
For even the most disparate things all connect back to you, someway.

As sleep eludes me, fear engulfs me
And I tell myself this can't be true....
That despite myself, I'm falling for you.

I made a promise (to myself), a solemn one
That I wouldn't court love, till kingdom come
I denied myself the very thought and God knows I've tried so hard,
But what good is one's resolve, when alas, I've played out all my cards?

The truth is that we won't admit it, we both try to hide
That which we mutually feel for one another, deep down inside
And while we shy away from love like it's wrong
Each day that passes us by, makes it grow strong.


Then again, like me, you have your reasons
And you prefer to deny it too,
But beleive you me, if it's meant to be
Even YOU can't keep you away from me.

Abstractions ...

It has increasingly become clear of late, that I’ve somehow assumed all along that abstractions take away from the revelation of what is real and what is but the entire truth. And today I feel that I may have been very wrong in thinking that. Which is what makes me admit that it was possibly just an assumption after all. Yes, abstractions certainly help mask the underlying truth to a fair or even a great extent, but the fact as such, that we seek to mask, remains, as is. For nothing can take away from what is actually real and the absolute truth. And although there seems to be a certain level of security in seeking refuge behind a façade of abstraction, the question that resurfaces time and again is – why does one really need to mask the truth under a pile of cleverly crafted sentences? Is it because we are afraid that acceptance of the truth, as is, may not really be forthcoming? Or is it because, somewhere at the back of our minds we still seek the approval of oh so many ?! How does it really matter at the end of the day, how many people really accept you for who and what you really are ? In your time of need, in that hour of raw, vulnerable desperation, where were all these people hiding, those whose nods of explicit approval seem to suddenly matter in a business that is very clearly none of theirs? The more I think of it now, the more foolish or even wasted all the effort put into making things abstract really seems. And the only comfort and satisfaction that I can take away from all this is that, despite the varied degrees of abstraction, there was sincerity in every worded-emotion and a world of genuine heartfelt feelings and thoughts, still expressed. And the very fact that this piece in itself is so abstract goes to prove that the bull is still hard to confront by it’s horns. Who knows how long it will take before all of this can be revealed in clear and lucid terms, terms that the world at large will understand with just a mere glance?. For clearly, the complexities that constitute the individual that each one of us is, is not something that can be unraveled, addressed, sorted and put aside in a day, a week, a year or may be even in a decade.  And even as we discuss this, albeit in abstract terms, the audience to this may dwindle in number but the individuality that remains steadfast and self-assured in its own right, shall never diminish in intensity or fade away. It shall always exist in the form and of the nature it was truly meant to be.  A candle can be put out by a gust of strong wind, but the darkness that it once dispelled cannot be denied. So it is with us beings, be it you or me. Our words, thoughts or actions, even our very mortal frames can be put out and silenced, but the individuality that defined the impact we had on the world around us can never be denied. And with this, I shall put to rest any conflict that may have risen in my mind as regards the ongoing game of abstractions.