Ah, ageing!

It’s funny to see how we all have grown –
In the extra softness of our cheek,
The creaking of our hips,
Oh, the spraining of our knees.

The acne doesn’t go as soon as they used to,
You need an extra colour on your lips
You are much quieter,
You’ve started thinking more,
And lo and behold!
You indulge in gossips, too.

There is nowhere to go except downhill,
And even then your sore calves frown in disapproval.

You enjoy the Shankars’ symphony
You sit down with your parents
For cups of tea and their stories,
Oh, how they mean so much to you now!
There is so much assurance in their voice,
And their scolding is what you recall fondly at work.

Ah, ageing,
You are like the full moon hidden behind the clouds,
Your body is not at your mercy anymore.

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Oceanic High

A birdie said she wanted to fly,
But in her wings, she didn’t rely,
There was no other way,
Her peers said,
So she swam through the oceans
Under the sun, with determination.

Mid-ocean, swimming in the sparkling water,
A thought gathered –
Maybe it isn’t the fuel she needed,
The thought seeded.

There would be no waves to sweep her away,
No trouble to stop her, if you may,
She riled in her thoughts,
Go or naught? However, she didn’t stop.

The sparkles seeped into her wings,
She couldn’t move another limb,
It was the time, she knew,
To let go of her doubts, said the Blue.

But Fear,
Then she overhears her Past sneer,
In the quiet of this blue life,
Could she get over her strife?

She would come back and tell this tale later,
To her peers and well-wishers,
Of how she just willed her wings to fly,
And this time, they took her high,
Of how she saw the distance crossed,
Of how she sang the songs of the marine joust.
They congratulated her for her success,
Encouraged, they set out to prove their own prowess.

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The Path

Even after two and a half decades
Your words don’t stop being orders
Words that you think
Will magically make me walk
The path you want me to.

Where is the affection?
That is what I needed.

Have you failed me?
Or have I failed you?

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meaning of words

I had the paper saved
To write you words of encouragement
But here I am,
Writing words to pour –
I stare at it instead.

I had the paper saved
To fill it with obligated words
That makes a living
But here I am,
Writing words of whimsy.

Then I write some more words,
Which settle a wired self
But float on the ocean of the world wide web
Like plastics, sabotaging marine lives –
What is the meaning of this?

If I didn’t know better
I would have taken a shower of curses.
But I know now –
Some things never change.
I am merely leaking of words
Just like a vessel that doesn’t know how
To pour its content where it should.
It must be broken.

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the girl made us wait

In the supermarket, the girl made us wait,
She fussed over the toothbrushes
Two rounds until she found the ones that appeased her senses.

We exchanged glances –
If her mother were ours,
They’d drag us by our hairs,
Slap us in pairs,
And ground us till we learnt our lessons.

But the girl was not us
Her mother was not ours
So she’d never know of being like us –
We’d have never dared make another wait for our favorite toothbrushes.

 

This Feeling

I know this feeling coursing through me –
It asks for you, imagines you,
It hooks me up to your thoughts,
Daydreams of you.

I know when this feeling goes
It leaves the heart broken,
Invites emptiness,
Musters up all the bitterness.

I will be wary of your cold calls
You are more trouble than asked for.

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