Haha, and all that.

•March 12, 2018 • Leave a Comment

With all the surging waves inside their aching bellies, they row towards the horizon. If ye believe, they say. If ye believe then there is surely some land. If ye sayest so, there is quite literally, most probably, a seat for each bottom, a shell for each mollusk.

P.S: Not all mollusks have shells, though. Octopi being magnificent examples.

P.P.S: Incidentally, octopi die soon after mating/giving birth. Even though they have 3 hearts, 9 brains, and blue blood.

P.P.P.S: It’s called apoptosis, ‘cellular suicide,’ or ‘living fast and dying young’

•March 1, 2018 • Leave a Comment

Imagine, if you can..

show and tell

•February 21, 2018 • Leave a Comment

Staring, losing track. A train hurtling slowly over a sea of figures. No one hurt, but no one taken on board either. Textures and restless fingers. A paintbrush taking a dip. A deep mantra getting caught in each breath, wriggling uncomfortably. I shouldn’t be vague about some stark realizations. I know. Some jelly is happy jelly? I just realized I saw an inverted crescent in my dream and someone was explaining that it’s because we’re actually going round the moon. Loony luna. Lovely luna. I feel as archetypal as you sometimes, but then I see that I’m stuck in an expressive face, an easy smile, an animated body. I guess I’m part human? Haha, shit, that is beautiful. Let me savor it a bit. I am still sometimes, but there’s always this eternal foliage floating calmly on my surface, waiting to be touched, waiting to touch. And it’s as soft as your eyes, as blue as your kisses, and oddly enough, smells just like you.

•February 6, 2018 • Leave a Comment

It lurks in the folds, yet I knot myself into shapes I dream of, it’s a strange kind of madness, it’s a different kind of acceptance. I can’t word what I feel, but I feel, feel, feel. Someone recently made me see something I always kinda knew: I live in a constant state of panic. I am excitable. It struck me as a little odd though, because actually, I like nothing more than tuning out, I almost don’t register the regular stimuli, lately. It’s been so peaceful. It’s changed a bit, the sign and symbol thing. It’s deeper, more meaningful, more enigmatic. I feel like a student again. My slate has almost nothing, just a shoddy key of alphabets that I sometimes choose to string together, probably to project something onto something. It’s such a labyrinth, this whole thing. But color me intrigued. Look, I thought it was the maps. Then I thought it was the roads, then the trees, then the stars. I thought it was the shapes in the clouds. But I thought too much. Maybe too little. I thought, I forgot how to feel, how to really feel what you are feeling, how to not shelf away files for later perusal, how to not use a manual, how to not do the ‘right’ thing, how to look after my own self. I might be regressing in some obvious world ways, I gotta accept. I am reminded that I am a mere student, every time. I have to balance some things, I have to learn some lessons, I have to walk some paths. But this feeling is gentle, considerate, timely. And for that, I am genuinely grateful.

•January 10, 2018 • Leave a Comment

I am full, forgive the slosh and splash. I can say that some days I am the very hum that makes the universe spin. Lazy-Susan like, I watch you grow, I watch you fade, now you are mist, now a tickle at the back of my throat. It’s gone. It’s over. We are here. We are safe. We are meant to breathe. The flags are somewhere back home, but I will sink my fingers into this new, I will grow roots, I will grow. That’s it, and what else. I will grow. They say we are water, they say we are earth. I burn, I burn, watching the stars, we burn, each squirm a hello to the unknown. I can say my energy blows it all up, out of proportion, mega distortion, et cetra, et cetra, but honestly, though, could never dwell in the mundane. Maybe that’s what I can’t fathom on quiet, methodical Sundays. That I have to exist in the mundane. I’m alive when I’m awake, my eyes, my mind, so insatiable, so young, so eager. I can say I’m a color whore, and a sucker for love, but it’s all hitting some sort of redundancy that scares me. I’m done talking, I’m done dictating, it’s all a fun word jumble now. You find the word you see. You get what you get. You aren’t timed. I find a new pleasure in sleeping, making my bed, choosing a yummy lotion, rubbing it off so that it’s delicious-scent-minus-sticky. I love the sleep I get. I love waking up and seeing the unreal fluorescent winter sun. I love staring up at the sky seeing, not seeing, who cares. It’s here, I’m here. We’re all good, and we’re all here. I’m truly living for the little moments after so long. Such stillness, I welcome. I find that it undulates and vibrates subtly, a new scene each time. And I am a happy student. I am a learning curve that is getting high.

•November 29, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Jo khana-e-lashaoor mei jagmaga raha hai..

•November 22, 2017 • Leave a Comment

We’ve spent some really lovely moments together. Thank you so much. I saw a butterfly today. In the middle of a jammed main road. I couldn’t breathe, I was so happy. It was almost ridiculous. And then I realized how many happy, almost ridiculous moments I’ve spent with you, and felt so much gratitude, and love. And I waved at the past that glows dimly, showing me how far I’ve come. I’ve leaped from season to season, ready, always, opening up like a lotus – petal by petal.