Guess who’s here? Summer :)

The day dragged itself befote beginning till 11 in the morning and once it started, everything moved in slow motion.
Summer is here. The mangoes aren’t.

It is sunny and the children have dispersed earlier than usual from school. They quarrel on the way back home while I hang my clothes to dry on the innumerable strings that’s criss cross in my verandah.

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The streets are desolate, with every house and their owners snoring. It’s not hot enough for the air conditioners to be put on. The ceiling fan rotating at a comfortable pace, the body covered with a light cotton chador is the perfect mix for a comfortable nap.

I won’t nap, not today. Songs from the days past entertain me while I stare at the crow that sits perched upon a bamboo pole, which is jutting out of a building under construction. I see it eyeing the rat that scurried into a hole a few seconds back.

There are so many things that happen around us that should get more attention than they deserve. The sun plays a game of peek a boo with the trees and me. The blue tarpaulin over the shed next door is an appropriate mirror for the sky.

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The saree that was wet last night, has dried and is proudly dancing in the summer breeze. A tender coconut vender wipes his brow after a hard days work, as he walks past my room.
Dada, may I get one?
Small pleasures of life, indeed.

My eyes gradually tire of the constant concentration, my head grows heavy. The monster called the Afternoon Nap seems to be catching up with me.

Must run away.

Till then, have a happy summer.

A restaurant.

I went to a new joint in town,
They served food and cheer.
They also served me crisps,
With unlimited beer.

I ordered the platter,
The one with everything on it?
It took thirty five minutes,
The time didn’t quite matter.

For as I looked around,
I noticed the decor.
It seemed like a yesterday.
I’d given up on before.

As the beer satiated me,
I thought of how much
This place resembled my life,
Could this be possible such?

On further investigation,
The menu read as follows.
Some meat, some love
Food and then, hollows.

There were salads and dessert,
Also, passion and love.
I chose the platter with all,
All that was above!

Guilty, I looked around.
The walls were my beating heart!
Was I ready to take the plunge?
The realisation hit me like a dart.

I returned my food,
But could I return what I felt?
For I…had ordered,
A plate full of myself!

Lost moments of glory,
Summer love and rainy afternoons.
A tangent of youth and,
A mouthful of macaroons.

And for dessert there was you.
And the evening walk around
The fair in October,
The feelings that abound.

I couldn’t look at the delicacies,
The manager looked worried.
The review on Zomato
Might just turn out hurried.

He gently came up,
Warmly, he asked.
“May I help you, madam?”
As the fleeting emotion passed.

I said I would be leaving,
That I needed to pay my due.
He laughed and looked down,
Said “This is all you!”

I looked quizzically,
And then I noticed them.
The people were my acquaintances,
My people, my friends.

It was all in my head,
I had ordered as my muse.
I think I need a doctor,
Probably Dr. Seuss.

Panicked, I ran.
And I felt a thud on my fist
I banged the wall repeatedly,
Until it turned to mist.

And I walked into a valley,
With a river full of red.
Sweaty, I woke up
With a shaky hand on my bed.

I looked around to make sure,
Yes, it was an imagination.
My memories were dangerous,
My memories were my salvation!

Can’t.

Can’t let a person upset you. You just can’t. Why are moods related to people? Should it not be personal? My moods should be mine. My emotions should listen to me. They shouldn’t obey the commands of someone who’s not around all the time, in times of distress or otherwise. They should listen to only me and I am commanding them to be happy.

Nope. Doesn’t work.
Is there any solution?

I hate it.

Sucks.
Pardon the profanity.
x

The axis of time

There will come a time
When you’ll know of how it felt
To love you from a distance
To look at you from afar.

When time itself will pause
And change its course
Like a hurling four wheeler
Against a child on the road

Because momentarily,
The world will tilt on its axis
While it smirks at how naive
I’ve been about it all.

And the shift in its being
Will remain forever
In memory of the brief
History of my love affair

The 26th degree of earth
More than 2,600 miles
It’s the tilt in time that
Finally saved me…

From you.

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Miss-taken

I saw him come into me.
As he entered,
and took his shoes off
Sat on the bed, head in his hands
His shoulders moved
With each sigh.
Those shoulders
Which grazed past my very being
Every morning when
He made his froth less coffee.
I know, his head in hands, he is
Utterly and unquestionably
In love.

I look at him as he leaves
Each morning.
His then frail body,
Now taut with age and time.
I watch him think; knees spread
Body tensed, mind adrift.
I shelter him from what I feel
He isn’t capable of bearing.
Surprises are something
I’ve never enjoyed
And he has a knack of springing
The unknown upon me.
And I’m expected to accept.
Accept it all, like a home
And four walls should.

I am what he knows
Will be there even when everything
Crumbles, swallowed
Or washed away.
I am who he returns to
After the turmoil is over
After the hurricane stalls
I have to be static; stoic,
Even when he sits there,
Head in his hands
Broken and in rags from
Effigies of what remain.
The happy embers of
The days from the past
Searing through his memories
To burn his skin,
And I? I save him.

I am his place of comfort
I am… stagnant.
Unnoticed, thankless,
A presence taken for granted.
And yet, I stay and stay in wait
For the epiphany,
For the realisation..

I exist, I tell him,
Shout and I scream
And then silently weep
While he returns to the one
Who stemmed his woes

I exist, I whisper.
Give me a chance
To be a home
Instead of a mere shelter.

I exist, I murmur,
I am a person…
Not a home of four brick walls!

I am a surprise

I was a wall of wings,
For every time you touched me
I’d break into a brilliance
That covered the horizon,
I’d break into a sky
Full of butterflies.

I was a guillotine of thoughts
For each time I was cut,
I’d flood the fields
That stretch beyond infinity
I’d flood the floor with
A thousand ideas.

I was an empty vessel
For each time you
Poured me out
With one strike,
I set the room alight
Like rum on fire,
Because empty I wasn’t,
I was gasoline.

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In the ideal world

People who work hard should get their dues. People like me, like the few of my friends who actually work crazy hard should get what they are working for. The world is far too competitive for its own good. It is just so difficult to focus every day of every week of every month. It is difficult to make plans in the evening when the rest are inviting you to go partying, without having to worry about the unfinished multiple choice questions. It is difficult and therefore, I demand to be duly repaid.. With a good college, with a promise that my work will pay off and pay off well enough to keep me happy. Because, if I’m not happy…none of this is worth it.

It is tough to kill my Id and let the Ego and Superego take over, so tough that Freud would have been proud. I wish I could just glance into the future to see what it’s like and make it work like a positive motivation. I wish I had a ginormous brain capacity where I was a prodigy like (I can not think of a name). People say they wouldn’t change a thing about their life. I would. I’d keep the same people but I would definitely make a few changes. A little dab on the unwanted here, a small erase on the unnecessary there.

Sigh. Back to solving MCQs.
x

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