A Time to Cry

The young lady labours on

another moment and i'll be gone
it is unfair for i'll be free
but will you keep my memory?
though i'll forget
the day we met
for i will be another life
will you still love me, my dear wife?

The young lady labours still

it takes me all my will
to hang on for a little more
of the way you smell, the dress you wore,
your teasing smile that i adored
the stupid names i called you so
the lovely morning on the shore
the secrets only we both know

all of these shall be no more

as the wind drags me to the door
i try so hard to freeze your face
but bit by bit my memory goes
i watch my thoughts of you erased

The lady waits, now i must leave
Bless you, for all the love received
Baby's almost here, goodbye
i take my place
it's time to cry

Six White Birds

Six white birds overlooking a lake
Perched on a tan-brown limb overhead
Silently watching the ripples in the sky
And the floating body drifting by

One white bird turns to look at me
As i hide my knife and turn to flee
Its piercing blue eyes now holding me back
Did it see me play out my act?

Birds dont talk! Oh what a jest!
So i put the little matter to rest
The birds fly away, guess I am done,
All the birds - save the strangled one

- Amit

Withered

Fractured drops of light
trying to hide the pain
broken shards of shadow
piercing through the rain
that falls within her eyes
trying hard to explain
things from long ago
memories flitting through the trees
afraid of letting go
winding through the autumn leaves
putting up a show
holding on to random bits
keeping her afloat
withered mind trying hard
to decipher what he wrote
slowly dawns a hint of smile
wondering if he said hello
unknowing, withered hands
clutch a withered farewell note

-Amit

The Photograph

Matt-finish, black and white
young man, child astride,
trousers flared, collar wide,
a grin adorned by pencil-line

The old man's favorite photograph
not for his child's memories
nor for youth he left behind
yet he stares and stares and cries
to see that faded photograph
the only one he misses most
the one who's missing in that pose
the one who cracked that silly joke
just before the flash and smoke
the one who clicked the photograph
the one who passed on to the ghosts

-Amit

Death of a Liar

He closes his eyes
and stares at a familiar scene
his 6 year old self, squeaky clean,
waving back to his mom and dad
entering school, first tie he had

Scenes rush by
the young child is child no more
a boy aged 13 sitting in at his proud father's store
lady-shoppers fussing over the winsome lad
as he shyly scribbles out their bills on a pad

The years fast-forward now
the boy has grown,
hot job in tow,
all of 43, suave CEO
on a magazine,
a loving wife, 3 kids
complete the scene

He opens his tired eyes
a life lived full, he smiles

and then laughs at the truth
a wasted youth,
born an orphaned lad
always making up his parents,
and the tie he never had
working as a coolie all his life at a store
always pining to move up to the pad
He'd hated his wife and cheated on her,
and guilt-laden, drunk away the little he had
an outstanding loan and a debt he'd incurred
had since broken his spirit and driven him mad

As he lay now thinking of his time gone by
a life of regret and happiness denied
he blocks out the life that was supposed to flash by
for the last time the old man dreams up his lie

-Amit

The Sale

I stand in line
at the ticket window
and as my turn arrives
I'm greeted with a smile

"Hi" I say
to the ticket vendor
and check out the list on display

"Is DEATH a stage one jumps off?
Is HAPPINESS a loud applause?
Is LONELINESS an audience refusing to stay?
And is SADNESS a temporary blackout caused
by defunct showlights at the play?"

"I really wouldn't know, Sir"
says he
"I only sell the tickets here.
Though i hear,
Some are happy when the lights go out
Some would kill themselves for applause
Others would jump off just to be alone, Sir
and some would be sad without cause"

"Oh" I say

and turn back to where you stand,
in your red dress, chewing gum,
pop-corn in hand
"What do you want to watch, honey?"
And you reply "We don't have the money
for Happiness, luv.
What's more, the show's at three.
You have a meeting then, remember?"
and i say "Yeah, there goes the matinee"

The man at the window lowers his voice
"You can try SIN, Sir
It is cheap, and fast
and quite a rage these days.
They always clap at the start
and the lights never descend
and though it leaves some broken hearts
and some jump off at the end,
it's not a bad deal, see,"
he winks, "I can even offer you
a buy-one-get-one-free"

"Aha" my interest rises
and i see you're smiling too
"Can't argue with that price" you say
and i say "Sure. Gimme Sin, for two"

Jaagte Raho!

He wakes with a start
and makes half a salute
and takes in the scene
did anybody notice he'd been
gone again
taking the first flight out
out like a light

He wipes clean his mouth
these breaks now becoming regular bouts
He rubs his eyes, and scratches his belly,
kicks off his shoes to make way for smelly
toes and soles that can make a blind man blink
solely based on their obnoxious stink

An owl hoots in the distance
the moon is high up in the sky
the watchman argues for the n'th time that night
the world is sleeping
why shouldn't I
and having won that round
he proceeds to act on his logic;
the air fills with his sleeping sounds

a silent figure standing poised to strike
lowers his weapon to the ground

-Amit

The Wait

The old woman waits in her wooden chair
whiling time, much to spare,
fingers moving, beads of prayer
belie an ardent, eager stare

A door bell rings not so far
the woman smiles, it is the hour,
rushes to her window sill
and lovingly waves out to her star

The neighbour's six year old waves back
red water bottle, purple bag
a word or two, he goes indoors
she does the same, to where she sat

-Amit

Child Arrives

A med report
Couple despairs
Dream is lost
Unanswered prayers

For

Dimpled smile
Two bright eyes
Tiny hands
Cherubic cries

Then

Hope renewed
A children's home
Couple rejoices
Mercy shown

Comes the big day
Anxious dawn
Child arrives
Mother is born

-Amit

The Prompter

I visit a moment,
a familiar blur
or a frequent dream
that is yet to occur

A dark stage is set,
an unlit concert
and i play out the part
of the prompter, unheard

from the curtains i peep
and watch a strange man weep
besides beasts with masks
who roll their heads and ask
to sing them a fable, and run down his past

but the strange man appears to have forgotten his lines
and the wild beasts continue to feast on their crimes
and his cup overflows as they start to dine
and ambition falls a drop at a time

Should i help this man, from the curtains i stare
undecided i watch in despair,
and, waiting, impatient, comes the end of his strife,
by death of will, and a beast with a knife
as he crumbles down and falls to his knee
the dying man turns to the curtains and me
in horror i watch the blood flow like wine
the strange man's face starts to look like mine
and that's me on my knee and my blood flows like wine
as the strange man peeps from the curtains behind

and black fog rises, and soothes the eyes,
and his teardrops fall,
apologise
for the parts he turned down
for the stage he ignored
when he needed to act
he played the prompter, unheard

-Amit

A song i wish i wrote

'Everywhere i go' by Willie Nelson
If you listen to it, i bet the first word that comes to your lips is 'haunting!'

Everywhere I Go
- by Willie Nelson

I’ll take you with me everywhere i go
I’ll put you in my pocket who will know ?
Right next to my heart at every show
I’ll take you with me everywhere i go

No matter where our trails will finally wind
Our paths will just keep crossing yours and mine
Until then and in my pocket you must go
I’ll take you with me everywhere i go

No matter where our trails will finally wind
Our paths will just keep crossing yours and mine
Until then and in my pocket you must go
I’ll take you with me everywhere i go
Until then and in my pocket you must go
I’ll take you with me everywhere i go

King of Rock

Entrusted with the important task
but how do i, i ask
it is simple, i am advised
just hold her close,
hum a bit, rock side to side,
in a sweep

that's all, i inquire?
yep, that's all
i am told
and though i grow cold
and pale
at the thought of it
i psyche myself
be brave, nightingale,
king of snooze,
prince of drowsyland,
chief sandman,
master caretaker of forty winks
harbinger of naps,
etc etc
with such thoughts i proceed
to put the baby in my lap
and start the deed
to rock her into a daze

i set up the scene
on the bed,
and prop us up against a pillow
then,
hold her close - check
hum a bit - check
sway her with a sweep - check

she yawns
good going daddy!
i pat myself on the back
and step up the pace
hum
sway
sweep
hum
sway
sweep
(this is easy i say
ha! who needs sheep)

hum
sway
sweep
hum
sway
sweep

and in a minute or two
bliss
i am fast asleep

An Ode to Haiku

Overheard,
"Jalapeno and pineapple, please"
i spin

like men
i take it on the chin
and fall

to charms
and peculiar taste
within

i stare
surprised to find another
like me

and what
should have a haiku been
is now poetry

Welcome Home

You enter the room
the smoke, it chokes
you cannot breathe
you try to find
what you already freed
for reasons unknown
and the tv sings
"welcome home"

you need a seat
real bad
but the circus is out
and swords are rats
and the audience grows loud
in their cage all alone
and the tv sings
"welcome home"

the joker, he smiles
and takes what's his
the queen of spades swoons
and begins to quiz
the king of the ring
but he's out cold
and the tv still sings
"welcome home"

the pencil points
you want to follow
a broken window
and words so hollow
you miss the music that speaks
to your black tears on cheeks,
for the tv's now stole, who will
welcome you home?

My Favorite Demon

I sit
quietly inside my head
observing demons that i've bred
un-reacting, i choose to stare,
but you go by, like everyday,
and then i blink instead

i follow
everything you do
and every word you've ever said
cos i am just a child,
and you're my favorite bedtime tale
and even when you're not around
i dream you up instead

addicted to my private hell,
the place where all my nightmares dwell
my favorite demon chats me up
and tricks me with a brand new spell
as i watch on with unseeing eyes
fixated, i remain spell-bound
while you're exchanging quick high-fives
and buying my demons another round

and when you're done
and i've returned to oblivion,
and hunting crumbs to happy spaces
my rambling, incoherent mind replaces
all the pain with emptiness,
as bleeding wounds leave clueless traces
my weary spirit yearns to rest

i close my eyes to make my peace

and i find myself,
sitting,
quietly inside my head

observing demons that i've bred
un-reacting, i choose to stare,
but you go by, like everyday,
and then i blink instead

The Deal-Maker

One sun in the sky
and a million others shining up
from the railway tracks
that lead unto me, everyday
like the million lines on my face
each line for the million times i have prayed
exhaling a million plumes of smoke
that fill the million braids of my hair

You ask me a question,
I close my eyes,
I crease my brow, and nod my ashen-face
as though I've always known you'd come
but all I do
is take a long drag
and stare at you
as your faith stares back
and snares me between the million lies, tracks
that lead away from what is true

I quietly put my conscience away
"Son, you have sinned!", I say,
And you grow pale
"Maharaj, is there a way?"
you ask,
as you tremble with the memories of that frightful day
Another drag; you wait,
as i close my eyes and negotiate
"Sure, but there'll be a price to pay"

And you are happy
to trade your guilt for a hundred rupees
and thank God for deal-makers under trees

As i hoard my own guilt,
and pray to find a deal-maker for me

- Inspired by the powerful 'Immersion', by a friend, Ayan

The Road Taken

On the way
decided to take the flyover today
for a moment or two
i rise above the city view
eye to eye
with fifth floor skies
then down again
with hoi-polloi
and in my bliss
never knowing what i missed
i flew right over
my dreams today

Ramblings, 02:31:22

Two cries for the will of this night
and a shout to coax a show of might
the sun can wait, your darkness prevails
this now is mine, it shares my plight

a note or two that make me think
a clever A-minor that does the trick
a quest for rhyme and a stranger gone wrong
lost for words and a perfect string

shining lights, too bright inside
will somebody please turn down this pride
dreams and tramps that beg at my feet
but i'm pre-occupied with pacific noise

puffy eyes, crooked lips
thoughts come knocking, but mind's on a trip
answering machine says "please go away
i'll get back to you, but there'll be a delay"

getting crazy with a piece of wet chalk
we're done with chat, we're yet to talk
two thirty one, and twenty two gone
i yawn
and yet, and yet i stare at the clock