Every day

Every day, every night; every day and night.
In my thoughts I find you, sometimes as present.
Sometimes as memories that seem distant.
Sometimes in dreams that feel so close.

Coming soon

My friend's book will be out on the 15. Do grab a copy for a delightful take on Chennai, formerly Madras, where modern India began

PS: He hardly needs the publicity through my relatively unknown blog. But, my two cents

The change

So much has changed, since we met last.
A change in every layer, a change in every spectacle.
I have begun to notice the drops on the leaf.
While I have only seen the greenness of it every day.
Today, I see every bit standing in stark contrast to yesterday
But then there you are standing amidst them all.
With no change, seen or unseen.
While I too have changed and you haven’t.

Not the present, but the past

There is a gaping hole around.
It feels like an essential piece of furniture has been removed.
But it is not the absence that needles me all day.
Nor does the vacuum, but the past’s presence
Vibrant colours have run out till there is nothing left.
The space that once cried for more space now echoes with silence.

Looking back

Sometimes, I look back to see a faint spectacle.
Of times that remain only in memories.
I wipe the mist gathered on the view.
It seems so long, but not really long ago.

Sometimes, I hear familiar voices.
From the times that seemed to stand still.
But, now I hear them louder than ever before.
As if they are not from the past, but from something within me.

Inert

Have you noticed the heaviness of an inert cloud?
Heavy with rain, reluctant to pour.
Now, look into my eyes, as wide as it could be.
Stifling the tears in them, I dare not close, for they would pour

If I could

There are times when I reconcile with the inevitability of change.
I know I can’t help but be passive when it takes over me.
The castles that I built may vanish without a trace.
Dreams that seemed so true may cease to be.
But, the will to gain control shall remain.
As I reach out to piece the scattered parts.
In a bid to make sense of the fragments.
That beckon me to dare and try.
In the quest to be the master.
Or the controller of one’s destiny