Desire

In longing I sigh
In yearning I cry
To pine in your hold
To dissolve in your world
To breathe on your lips silently
To break into bits fervidly

If finding you is a soulful anxiety
Missing you is acheful bliss

-Mon

My Dream

I breathe in the wild wild winds;
And hold the crashing waves within;
I pick the hues of the open skies;
I gather the scattered silver stars-
And weave them all into a dream.

A dream filled wih your fragrance;
A dream packed with your colors;
A dream bursting with your feel;
A dreamflowing with your bliss;

A dream that sleeps with desire;
A dream that wakes in hope;
A dream that blossoms in sweet slumber;
And dies in the bitterness of lonely nothingness.

-Monica

I hear the echo of laughter
Full of colors and life
The shrieks of pleasant surprises
Bathed in the bright hues
That must be joy round the corner
My benumbed mind senses
I reach out and call
A hollow moan reckons
I grope in the emptiness around
And whisper out a wish
The fading blues comfort me
I beckon the long lost dream
It flows through trickling tears
That fill my cracked smile
I recall the nostalgia of love
It still takes my breath away
I warm to the feel of touch
It makes me trepidate in hope
Even the grip of your thoughts
Makes me writhe in helplessness
I crush the mounting passion
Wanting to be strong again
I shut out the joys
I squeeze out the colors
I wipe out the traces of every smile
I feel strong again with my loneliness
And my very blue company of tears
Until the shadows of our memories
Crack my secure world again
I dream, I hope, I desire
For a touch of your lips
A caress of your smile
A haven of your strong arms
I want to live and die in you just one more time
Till all that is dead in me comes alive
…And till I kill any trace of life ever again

-Monica

A Gesture Too Subtle

It has been a drab of a day. A mix of too much for the broth to taste good. I feel exhausted, wasted, and brain dead. I walk monotonously across the passageways of my office moving from my floor to the library to the break-out and back to my desk. Thoughtless, absent minded lost. One door after another open close open close. I swipe my access card proving my presence, physically atleast, and wait for the door to bang in my face as another weary employee walks out, dead with patience I await my turn to walk out. No bang on the face? Click back to reality. Wow the guy who just moved out is holding the door for me. I realize this is where I truly need to be polite. I want to say a word but he is busy on the phone, yet his face does not show any sign of impatience or the get on darn am holding the door looks. I smile and hope I conveyed it all.

That was nice, I tell myself. A series of thoughts cross my mind, he is probably as tired and brain dead as I am, as busy trying to make a balance out of life, speaking on the phone, swiping his card, trying to run out, yet just a thoughtful gesture also makes him reach out, to someone unknown. I say thank you a little loud, my smile is a little brighter, but maybe the newness shows on my face. In acknowledgement he nods and walks slowly but steadily away.

I ask myself what felt good, meeting a gentleman after eons or being trated a lady after ages?

-Mon

Crack-up,

A stained window, a broken pane
A distorted vision, colorless again
A dark alley, echocing with voices,
A lost day, without any choices,

A scarred body, scatched again,
A soiled soul, crippled in pain,

Grab a ray, the sun will set
Chase a smile, love will reject
Touch the ripples, stillness will regret

Attempt to stand, to stagger and fall
Search for the present, and past will recall

Scratch the wounds, guilt floods
Smell the acrid, scent of blood

Choke, cry and ask the why
Breathe again only to die

-Monica

Random Thoughts...

All ruined.....ashes, carcasses, hollowness......pain again, dull but deep.....gashes that leave a numbing ache.....acrid memories.....stale fragrances....dead tears....empty emotions....caustic smiles...a soiled soul.....a beating heart.......and nothingness!

Parting...

You came last night,
And took away all we shared,
No words exchanged, just the deafening silence,
Said it all between us.

I looked all over and around, of some tell tale signs,
Of our togetherness,
But everything seemed to blur, fade, and disappear.

My tear filled eyes pleaded for a new beginning,
The relief on your face reflected the end that had already begun.

And we parted the cliched ways,
You walked your way,
I stood rooted and lost,
Because I never had known a way of my own,
And you took away your way...

-Mon

Finally a real poem (the title is justified you'll know after you read....so BETTER READ)

I want to write I want to write
But this darned work sched is tight

So much to say and so many talks
Day light blues and moon light walks

But hey hey hey, please don't go away
I beg you to read, I beg you to stay

If you comment that would be great too
After all my readers are but a few

I promise to try and write up something new
Not only crib, bawl, and make you blue

Now thats been a real hard attempt to rhyme
I know it sounds shitty, but do I care a dime ;-)

PS: While I gave myself all the airs , (of course for no logical reason or credits), to be a serious poet, who deeply touched the chord of the few readers who read my posts more out of OK lets return the favor factor, one 'cool dude' or so he thinks himself to be, very intelligently (again he thinks so) pointed out, "Monica you write and all that OK, some of it does make sense too granted, but then these are not poems yaar. You seem to be mistaken somewhere, you see poems HAVE TO rhyme.".......So here is to my very intellectual friend (he does not follow sarcasm so I can call him a friend...he he wicked smile - is there an emoticon for this?????)......a real sincere attempt at bad rhyme. All nasty comments are welcome, though am sure to get one that says finally you understood what is poetry....fancy doing MA Lit and not knowing that. Dumb dumb Monica!

-A very desperate and fast losing patience with the world: Mon

Shattered, Scarred, Scathed

I was wandering through my lost world,
But at some point I slipped; unknown, unawares, oblivious.
A thousand pieces shattered on the scarred floor.
From the deep blues, I looked into my mirror,
A distorted image reflected back.

My once light transparent eyes are now charred and dead.
The fair skin now tainted with deep dark circles into which my eyes are drowning slowly but surely.
The smile a trace of a faint dark shadow.
The tears a seamless stain.

I stink.
Every part of me aches, pains, hurts.
There are cobwebs all over me.
Everything within bleeds and everything without is scathed.

Cold water cleansing proves futile in purifying.
Any touch makes the wounds burn.
The attempt to heal only causes more blisters that prick.

I am trying to pick each scattered piece and put it back to where it belonged,
A mismatched jigsaw is the result.

-Monica

Thoughts at Gandhi Ghat (Barrackpore, Calcutta)

Without even a ripple or the slightest surge of waves, the seamless stretch of water radiated absolute calm and peace. It was steady and in a sense self as well as all containing. I quickly dissolved into its serenity. A few inches above, the sky grayed out casting its shadows on the shimmering transparency. The sadness of the grey was being healed by the acceptance of the blues. I stood rooted to the steps that led into the waters and kept gazing for what seemed like timeless hours at this merging of pain and acceptability. I was overcome with a deep sense of poise and the stillness was a balm of reassurance. I envied them both, the letting go of the skies and the open embrace of the waters. Why was I holding on? Who would embrace the melting me? In answer, a lonesome boat bobbed in the middle of the mystic waters headed in no particular direction thereby blanketing my futility with some solace. Suddenly all seemed well with the insane world. Maybe nothing would matter anymore. And all of this with mere acceptance. So I stood there ready to accept, accept the moment, accept the day, the hour, the situation, the circumstances, you as you, me as me, and the us that would never be – I stood there gazing at and accepting life as is and would be.
As if the gospel truth revealed, the grey clouds parted and an orange sunset sprinkled its reds in scatters, arousing mixed emotions of longing, desperation, pain, and yet a new hope. The sun set with all glory and grace and deepened the agony within and yet made me smile without. The dying rays somehow instilled a little hope, a hope that was mine alone. A hope, which belonged only to me. My hope was fragile, brittle, weak, but nevertheless something to look forward to. I would need to nurture and nourish it within my heart, all by myself. I would not share this hope with another; I would not require another to make me believe in myself, no one to make me dream, no one to put me together and no one to break me to nothingness. The moist breeze caressing my face felt comforting even though irrepressible tears flowed giving me the inherent strength I had lost these many days.
I closed my eyes ready to dream my grey-blue dreams again.
Gandhi Ghat, Barrackpore, Calcutta, July 13, 06.45 pm
-Mon

Take them all away!

I steal the wishes and desires from the secret folds of my heart
And let them slip away quietly into the colorless voids

I open my eyes forcibly
And let each dream die silently

I take all my joys, my hopes, my colors
And I give them all to you
The smiles, the sunshine, the rainbows

Each of it and all of it is now yours

The golden-yellows of the lazy fresh sun-ups

The orange-reds of the serene mystic sun-downs

The rusty-browns of the brazen wild winds

The slate-grays of the drenching swallowing downpours

The silvery-whites of the crescent melting moon

…And the blazing-ambers of the passion-full togetherness

But tell me also who do I give-

The echoes of our laughter?

The silhouettes of our imaginations?

The moisture of my tears?

The shadows of my solitude?

….And the nothingness that is me?

Mon

Kahin door jab...

"kabhi to ye dil kahin mil nahi pate
kahin se nikal aaye janmo ke nate
ghani si ulzhan, bairi apna man
apna hi hoke sahe dard paraye"

.....few of the most beautiul lines that ring truer every time I hear them. I hear them now and I cry ceaselessly. I love my lonliness and smile effortlessly. I feel a heavniess encompassing me and yet it feels strangely calming. Maybe being aloof also means being free. Too many thoughts ruuning through my mind at the moment, I find it difficult to express anything. The moments melt away in the melody of the music. I dissolve into the space and I do not exist or maybe I do not want to exist. For some reason the last desire has died too. I gaze into the flickering flame of the candle and seek solace in its diminishing. I know that is what I want to be, I want to be a candle, to flicker and dwindle away, with memories of lighting up the darkness and yet leaving no trace in brightness. I hold my palm over the dying flame, the burn feels soothing. I enclose the warmth in my fist and feel the strength growing in me. I look into the mirror and smile feeling fulfilled and at peace with my numbness.

-Monica

Shadows of A Morn'

A stale morning dawned today
It carried over the broken shards of the lonely night

The weakened breeze was loaded with the desperation of emptiness
And the sunrays only spilt its lonesome melody everywhere

The whiff of bitter salts saturated the air
Filling each breath with the sting of void

I opened my eyes to the moaning clouds
And the dark hues cast by the bereft skies

Accustomed to the embrace of murky nights and inherent nothingness
I welcomed the broken morning with an amused smile

And now the day just passes on, each moment enwrapped in the obscured ache
With enraptures of silent tears being the only signs of acceptance

Weary of the resurrection
A morning today yearns for the eternal sunset

-Monica

A Permanent Split...

The dip in the ice cold blues was refreshing. It helped clear the cob webs in my head or so I felt, at least then. I decided to take the lazy walk home and give myself some more clear thinking time. The cool evening breeze made me shiver a wee bit, what with the body still attuned to the water and strokes. Light headed and warmed and cold equally I dragged each step towards the road that took me home.

Little did I realize that imagination was already spinning its silken grey threads and weaving new cobwebs for me. Lost in my neverland, I was jolted back to reality at the touch of what felt like dead snake skin brushing against my feet. The front wheel of the bike nearly did or maybe actually did touch my feet, while I could still hear the screeching of the brakes. OK so this was it, I had blindly crossed the road until I found myself heading straight into the bike. I shut myself mentally to let the abuse and anger pour out. But there was silence and it was the calmness that made me look up. A stark contrast to my empty eyes, dark circles, and tanned face was a clear, bright, and smiling one staring back at me. A face that smiles and spreads smile like my good ol’ monk. My lips cracked into something akin but I found it difficult to say thank you, maybe because there was this buried sense of regret at the miss. Our eyes locked for a fraction of a second, a tryst of life and death. It was difficult to break the contact and move on. The sudden honking of horns was enough to break the spell. I don’t know how long the moment lasted, a few minutes, a second, a split second….but it made a permanent impact.

I clutched the nothingness in my fists tightly and moved on with my head high. I could feel the gaze bore into the back of my neck, but I did not turn back. I moved on. I could sense my god speeding away too, to never come back.

-Mon

Home Coming!

I am home finally after a month long gap...yes one month is long enough when you stay only 200km or 4 hours train journey away from home. I was in the classic to go or not to go dilemma until I boarded the train and as always am glad I have come.

Ma ke haath ka bana khana and Dal-Chawal at that is a perfect welcome. The weather here is perfectly romantic, pleasant and has made me all dreamy. It is sad that I am working from home and my shift is not yet over (that I am blogging quite explains how much I like my work!!!)

While I must be grateful to ma for the lovely food and daddy for his nonsense jokes, my stress busters.......I am actually thankful really to my me time here. I have increasingly started feeling a concern that I am not spending time with myself. So here is an evening to I, me, myself!

I'll go swimming and ctach a cold. Walk uphill to the sunset point on temple hill and court my imaginary love while feeling the moist and angry wind caressing and scathing equally. Wish a million times we could be together holding hands looking at the sun set with all its golden-orange hues..... and then walk back alone with a heavy heart and poetry in making mentally.

The sound of silence on the walk back and a million thoughts will come crowding my mind, all until it just stops and I walk back bang into the middle of the bazaar. Shopping and eating cannot be off the agenda, even if it is just small nothings and good ol' paani puri and yes the mango ice cream certainly lifts the spirits now, doesn't it :-)

Back home to some mom-daugther talk, a delicious dinner (i know already it is sabudana kitchdi - why does ma have to immer pretend she does not love me...my fav dishes being cooked says it all ma, stop being the kid, will ya?), tel maalish by expert daddy (yes yes I make my dad oil my hair still and guess what feel great about it too!), the mid-night coffee made stealthily and the final curling up with a book........a perfect friday.

Time to logoff and take the dip now, don't you agree?

I fall short of words and expressions, am just so happy and at peace with the chaos within and the poise outside.

-Monica

Buzz Off!

I am sick and tired and really speaking very angry with the entire bright, ever smiling, practical, and mostly self-designated wise clan of the world. Yes whatever. When I talk to you I feel I am reading a general knowledge book or the daily newspaper, where for your kind information most of the content is fudged and churned to convenience.

If all you can think of when the first showers of rains drench and cleanse equally, is the water cycle, the water table and all those hydro words and phrases, thank you very much, I learnt all of it in class 4 and then most decidedly gave up Science to take up Arts, just in case you did not know. So when it rains, I will stick to nostalgia, reminiscence, cuppa coffee and you are welcome not to join in. In fact I will only be glad to court my loneliness and charm my romantic heart and soul.

No I cannot be an action-reaction theory round the clock, there is something beyond me too, yes I love to step into other’s shoes and feel their pain, wipe their tears and then end up crying in their lap. Please stop finding reasons in the how, where, and why of me. I am OK being me, I am OK not having an identity, I am OK with being an insignificant mere mortal who has no accolades or medals to boast of, who never topped a university, who never wrote or danced or sang worth a record. I am OK wearing my old, ill-fitting, but makes me feel comfortable clothes and not get looked at even once, forget twice. I like looking at me in the mirror still, and guess what I can face myself, which is my litmus test and as long as I stand true to it I know I am OK.

I don’t boast of having read the critical writers of the old English or the post modern era, I read my share of Shantarams and I am absolutely beguiled by Hardy and Lawrence and they make me reach the penumbra and pinnacle equally, but you know what it is MY CHOICE and I LIKE IT THAT WAY. And yes I still listen to Sufi music and try to count the beats of Ek Taal in a tarana or thumri, which I know is passé by all your modern standards, but that is what makes me smile and that is what makes me jump up in glee and swirl around in a mystic ( and yes mystic is my fav word and I will use it in each of my post, I don't need your permission) trance. And guess what I do not what an audience. I am happy keeping myself me company.

I refuse, absolutely refuse to have any further discussions on this point. I will eat boiled aloo and sev at midnight, I will drink to my heart’s content only when I am angry or in pain and not just to ‘socialize’ (never understood what that means anyway), read and re-read Tess every year, sleep hugging my teddy, write letters and keep them in my closet, yearn and pine and treat the person I love like god almighty (even if he or she is far from loving me back ever, write sentimental poems as birthday gifts, drink double shots of espresso without sugar (and all you CCD and Barista guyz I KNOW espresso is black coffee and yes I AM a GIRL who drinks bitter black coffee i.e. coffee without milk and sugar....so STOP telling me that please), and cry because my heart feels the pain or even without any reason at all because you know what I feel like crying. And as long as I don’t ask you for a handkerchief, I believe you should be OK too, after all, be your wise, cold, brutal, emotionless, practical self and leave me to wallow and die in self pity. And yes you are not invited to my funeral either.

-Monica

PS: Yes I will call people I love honey, sweetheart, bachhcha, darling and all those sweety pie, sugar coated names and if I don’t call you that please note you probably don’t matter beyond the business or social circle and I can flash my ever dazzling smile at you even if I am muttering nothings under my breath. Believe you me (is that hep enough btw?) I am skilled in polished, fake, make you feel important communication skills, no questions asked and yes period. And it shall only give me utmost pleasure to address you by your first and last name, in which ever accent you like.

Time to go

I miss the good ol’ times and all the lovely people in my life. I wonder has everyone gone far far away beyond touch, hearing, sight….feelings? It is all such a pretence, a show of convenience we are staging to keep up an image, a persona that is not our real character, a name that is not our real identity, and a race which takes us only far away from our true goals and our real being.

It really feels bereft. Love, friendship, togetherness, sharing, responsibilities, ownership, support all sound hollow, empty fake words with no value or emotions. I talk incessantly and I talk to everyone but it is like talking to walls, I can talk my way through without really saying what I want to, no not a single word of what I really want to say. It is all gibberish. I go through all activities of the day and everything seems like another item to tick off the to do list, even things like meeting a friend, sharing a beautiful evening, looking at the sea waves and the sun set and the moon, feeling the surge of emotions, the lump in the throat, the holding back of tears……all simply all of it is a task to complete.

I am turning into a mean machine and I find myself getting detached moment by moment with everything and everyone who I called my own and who owned me. Now being alone with my music and books is the only solace and it really scares me what next if even these become to do-s. It is time to really shut the doors and just never let anyone in. Time to draw lines, the crisscross lines, but the clear defined lines. There is only so much I can do and not do.

I can not only not take anything more, I do not have anything left to give either. It is best I part ways with all.

-Monica

Toast to sanity

I remember my friend's words while raising a toast, "Cheers to the little sanity that prevails in these insane times".

I miss you so much Praveen (and also the toast and the drinks and the evening and the club and most importantly the grey cells) today as I try hard to grit my teeth and smile at all morons around while my palm itches to strike and walk out.

For my evening drink today instead of a toast I will probably find myself wishing, "Hope I remain on this side of the wall to always be able to raise a toast to the little sanity".

I wanna scream and shout and say GET LOST (actually much more...you get the drift, right?). Any listeners....or pleadingly so, any sympathizers??????

Sobbingly,
Monica

While I was about to publish this post, I got a credit card call and the lady on the line started asking me several details like name, age, profile, etc and I stopped her midway to ask why she needed the information. The answer, "Madam aap womans hai na, isiliye HDFC aapko free womans gold card de raha hai jo ki sirf womans ke liye hai. Isiliye aap apne details de do." Wow, do I have anything called options?????

I instantly replied to her, I am credit crad phobic and then bit my tongue for even making the attempt......I certainly am crawling to the other side of the wall.

Yelp yelp.....help help :-(((((((((((((((

Connect

I see you soaking in the rains, like you were born to smile
Enjoying the splash and the thunder, joy being yours naturally

I see you collecting the colors of flowers and smile like one of them
Red, violets, pinks, blues, like all hues belong alone to you

I see you speak incessantly until you absorb everyone around
I see you win hearts easily, like the world is out there to conquer and keep

Your joy, your blithe, your mirth is infectious, you carry away everyone in your wake
In a trace all hearts move to your tunes and yearn and pine for you

I try to belong too, to be a part of your world
To be carefree and cheerful and learn to smile like you

And then I find the rain drops mingled with your tears
And I find the shadows amidst all your colors
The hurt in your voice echoes the deepest pain
And all the laughter of the world seems only insane

I reach out to touch you, and feel the wetness of the skies
I want to hug you tightly and take away all aches

I see you fading away into the grey downpours
I smile fondly from a distance knowing we cannot be far

Now I know I belong to you or maybe we belong together
Our bond of affliction binds us in affection

-Monica

A simple evening

It is strange how one can break into peices and be completely shattered to the extent that hope and desperation feel one. I have been feeling so lately, all lost, all dazed, all gloomy. A state where nothing matters or means anything and I simply take each moment as it comes, unassuming and without any expectations. I am as scared of smiles as of the tears, both seem equally false and pain giving. I have never felt the surge of emotions so strong in me and never felt so helpless and hopelessly out of control.
Yet like a much needed intermission in a loaded and heavy art movie, where the few moments become absolutely essential, if for nothing else but for what is happening and being projected to seep in, I too had a simple lucid evening catching up with a college time friend. We never were the heart-to-heart friends, in fact I would not understate if I say we were but mere acquaintances, so not much of a past to share or mull over. Our worlds are so entirely different so not much ground for common talk there either. Yet just listening to 'so what happened after we graduated' stories felt good. In my current phase of overwhelming emotions and sense of loss, meeting you was a welcome relief my dear friend. Now let us see where this new beginning is headed. Hope the simple pleasures and smiles continue.
PS: People still care enough to think of niceities like roses and cards while meeting a friend. Feels good.

-Monica

Far From The Madding Clouds

It is a dark morning. The sky is full of dark clouds ready to break and pour down. I imbibe the sky’s darkness within me. I too am on the verge of a breakdown, a ceaseless downpour. I look down and continue to search for strength in the white cup of black coffee I hold. I refuse to meet the gaze of anyone around. I am lost and I have lost. Lost it all, the good and the fine, the dark and the ugly. It is all gone now and really when I think of it, nothing was there in the first place. I acquired and I let go. I will continue to gather and let it melt away.

I want to blame it all on the exhaustion and sleep deprivation, or maybe the stress and the work over load, or maybe on the missing chemicals, or maybe on the drinking binge, or maybe on the painful past, or maybe on the silver future, or maybe on the susceptible present, or maybe on the distance, or maybe on the intimacy, or maybe on the misleading emotions……..or maybe just maybe - no actually truly essentially on me and me alone. I am the make and also the break. I wanted to word this differently, camouflage it with colors and characters, but suddenly it does not matter. The raw and the crude defy artifice and take away all expression.

The pool of water makes the eyes moist; I refuse to look up in the fear that they will see me cry. I grit my teeth and tell myself it is OK and yet my gaze continues to bore a hole into the ground. I really am scared of my tears reflecting in their smiling eyes and blurring their vision too.

So I want to go, go far far away.

-Monica

I give up love to you...

I hear the cry of anguish in you
And you know I feel the same pain too

But the dark hues have ever been mine
I have courted grief beyond time
Cherished all pain and held tears sublime

So I will not give them away to you
And will trade love in its lieu

You take the passion, affection is mine
You take the wild desires, wilderness is mine
You own each moment, but timelessness is mine
You own togetherness and nothingness be mine

To the bliss of friendship I make love surrender again
Let it bond you eternally while bereft I remain

If love begets us enemies today
Friendship will unite our hearts some day

Ever,
Monica

Farewell...

I have loved you so much, passion is a part of me;
I have missed you so much, longing is a part of me;

I have trusted you so much, faith is a part of me;
I have worshiped you so much, devotion is a part of me;

I have cared for you so much, affection is a part of me;
I have experienced your innocence so much, beauty is a part of me;

I have shared so much happiness with you, bliss is a part of me;
I have cried so much for you, pain is a part of me;

I have shared so many moments with you, timelessness is a part of me;
I have dreamt so much with you, imagination is a part of me;

I have lost myself so much in you, searching is a part of me;
I have found so much support in you, dependence is a part of me;

I have hoped so much in you, desperation is a part of me;
I have expected so much from you, truth is a part of me;

I owe you all the passion, longing, faith, devotion, affection, beauty, bliss, pain, timelessness, imagination, dependence, desperation, truth…

I have internalized you so much, you are a part of me.

Now all that remains to become a part of me is the moving on…
So I walk with you in me and leave you nothing of yourself.

I take it all in me and secure you as a precious memory in the deepest folds of my heart.

I set you free now, to move on too, but bereft of you and of me;
And smile as the distance grows with all the endurance you gave me as our parting gift.

-Mon

Nothing In Particular

It is yet another boring mundane day at work. I walked my way to office, made all my ‘social responsibility’ phone calls (but I loved making them today for some reason, now you certainly know how desperate it gets), escaped a couple of head on accidents (feels me again!) and am supposed to be here making my sweet, composed, polite, and customer delighting calls and churning one draft copy after another, incorporating the never ending changes, which will most certainly change COB (can I just wait until it is time to pack up and see a flood of changes coming in on my emails and then begin working?)……the list of stupid, not important, don’t know why the hell am I doing this tasks is endless……and yet I come here on every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday……day after day after day and do the same things over and over and over again……Sisyphean Challenge (sans the romance of cheating death) and will also justify this nonsense when it comes to my yearly appraisals where they will give me a sal hike that will possibly cover my 2nd class local train fare from maybe Andheri to Kandivli ( am I being ambitious?) or if they see that I am being superb at this no sense task and have charmed the idiots to death, then they might actually consider giving me a decent taxi fare from office to Bandra (now it was Dickens who wrote Great Expectations, didn't he?)….phew do I sound frustrated? That I am. So much so that I am considering walking over to the ghat two desks away and asking her if we can sip coffee while I listen to her ‘how good it is coming early because morning morning all tasks get done so fast n fast gibberish’ or maybe I should just scare the wits out of the ops guyz n gals (and yes please read guyz n gals we don’t associate with the pre historic girls and boys) who intelligently discuss only about K series, BF/GFs, break ups and make up……beat this, I actually know many a love stories (and am itching to give them some expert advice) without even knowing the names of our hot chicks and cool dudes…….or whatever they choose to fantasize calling themselves as.
OK now the million dollar question why am I feeling this way? Normal boredom for one (yes yes for a change normal stuff also happens to me). My best friend is away and has not talked to me for the past 2 days (sulk sulk sigh……distance makes the heart grow fonder is not working this time around :-(..... ), my partner in crime in office (o how I miss you already dear) has gone on her enviable mandatory leave, and my confidante and guide is on a business trip (when is this freaking 2 week trip gonna be over anyway?), my office soul mate (well yes you can have a home soul mate, a dance class soul mate, an ex-office soul mate…..) does not work from the same office as me and her shift does not begin for another full 30 min (OK come soon girl I might cross the edge waiting to call you) and now the billion dollar answer am I back to basics with the S’nin effect being trimmed down or anxious about being off it tomorrow? No, I promised I am going to manage this by myself and that I will.
Well now I have said what I have to and yes it is all said. No shades of grey, no dark undercurrents, no lovelorn bleeding heart poesis ….just like its title says it all, a no nonsense nothing in particular post. Do I hear the phone ringing already? Time for tone change, shift change to sweet (no trace of frustration), polished, “Good morning this is Monica, may I know who is calling please”. I pledge my life to all the Sylphi-es, Kiyori-es, Russell-s, Tom-s and Hari-s of the nonsense world. Come lets make each other feel like the most important people on planet earth.
-Monica

Midnight Love

Today I am reborn in love and spent in its pain;
I now love and live only in you.

So much in love and so much in pain the opposites crush and break me;
I crave to melt into your warmth which dissolves me, my love, my pain…

You make me think so many thoughts and ask so many questions
Till your words and doings make me directionless and I shudder to know the answers, true and untrue.

You shake me out of the darkest slumbers only to make me dream the wildest dreams.
You help me find myself only so that I lose me in you one more time.

How many hopes will you crush that arouse innumerable desires?
How long will my heart blossom to see you and bleed to never find you mine?

You are so far away yet I sense your calming presence.
And in your sweet embrace I hear the echo of distance.

I search you in the music I hear, in the verses I read, in the fragrance I breathe…
And yet find you simply by closing my eyes!

Are you real?
Or only a magic that vanishes the moment I want to touch, feel, belong?

The more I pursue, the more you evade-
The more I resist, the more you flood me with love and beauty.

Love me or leave me,
I plead, I writhe, and yet only gleam in your glow.

Do not love only to leave,
And do not leave only to make me love you more.

Wasted in your trying, I cry sweet-bitter tears,
Through which reflects your soothing smile.

I cannot understand myself anymore,
I need you to decipher me piece by piece.

Come hold me tight-
Until I die and live forever in you alone.

-Monica

Moon Walk

I decided to follow the moon tonight
And walked where its light led me
We moved into secret alleys
We toured through mirth streets
We knocked at iron doors and glass ones too
We smiled at the dancing waves and the slipping sands
We climbed high hills and played hide and seek
We trailed dense forests and searched shadows
It was a long beautiful walk and then the moon brought me home
We looked at each other while the mirror looked on
We returned its gaze in togetherness and saw it reflect us
And through us reflected the secrets, the mirth, the iron, the glass
The waters and the sands, the hills and the forests and our colors and smiles
Until the moonlight faded and the moon vanished
Now I look on and the mirror looks blurred
Maybe the reflections just cracked…

-Monica

Mode Pondering

It feels devoid of feelings now. I ask myself, why am I here? Yet I know if I was not, the restlessness and uncertainity would have crushed me. As I sit calmly awaiting, like I mostly do, it feels oblivious, empty, and blissfuly peaceful. Am I attaining the difficult to achieve state of detachment? If yes, then why do you matter, in fact why do I metter, and more ironically why do we matter? I missed the togetherness but at the same time at some level the mute acceptance of not being together is also setting in. The agony and pain don't scream any more, I am silencing them or may be they have already silenced me...

-Monica

Magic Realism

The steaming hot mug of my rare late morning wake up coffee seems to have done the trick today. Even as it is in the making I sense this is going to be more than my daily dose of caffeine kick. It brews up a story. A story? Is that what this post is, I wonder? Yet the dictionary grants my usage to be correct. Having heard, told, and lived so many stories, the concept somehow becomes synonymous with fiction. But well, stories are real too I realize! Don’t know if that makes me happy or not, but that I believe should be another story for a ponderous day. Today is the day for nostalgia and the beauty of reminiscence and my steaming brew begs to reconnect. Each sip stirs up and creates a swirl of memories – like I like to say, flashes of memories- and I give in to re-experience the déjà vu…

It suddenly seems like ages before and yet I can hardly even recount weeks to have passed. The post-midnight nothingness chants, the impulsive jump out of bed jig to a quick beat, the lost murmurings (read abuses) tagged stress, the soul searching discussions titled life, the many blank, insane, but blunt questions termed reality check, and the convenient and feel good answers called defiance, the abrupt give them all to Jesus cry of an atheist, and the all woes forgotten plea of the Sufi maestros, the spirit lift and high rush in response to the melody of music, the sweet slumber with the lyrics of the ghazals, the humming and losing one’s self until the adrenaline levels drop and the sedatives and acids begin to work and Nyn reigns supreme and finally Morpheus steps in to end the Appolo-Hypnos combat.

….And then out of nowhere the ‘Wecker klingt’ and marks the beginning of another mundane yet responsible wake up call. The satin signs of the night only lure back to the cuddle of the blanket, while a collage of a thousand ‘to-do’ notes stares into my face and makes me come full circle to my favorite mug of black bitter coffee.

How I wish I could call this the magical reality of my life, yet it remains but a phase of ‘magic realism’ for reasons I choose to keep closeted. It is all too true to be only magic and yet the magic too short-lived to be the reality of my life. But one must be contented with one’s share now, mustn’t one?

And so I take the lazy luxury of holding the steaming brew that created my magic today, tightly unto my bosom and feel the glow as the warmth spreadth and yet sense the heart burn the heat causeth.

-Monica

Magic

A warm numbness spreads in me, it diffuses a sweet pains that thumps constantly and cripples me. I feel overfull with emotion, my heart sings with the lonely melody, the salts melt and leave a taste of longing.

I look at you, the smile spreads, a last hope of happiness crackles. I stretch out my arms to embrace the emptiness and breathe the fragrance of memories. I count the precious moments that make this the nostalgic beginning of a beautiful end. I close my eyes and feel the me dying in you and you growing in me ever.

-Monica

This too shall pass...

And then one day this too shall pass like most other moments of life I cherished. Moments I felt were eternal to leave an everlasting impression and yet fragile and delicate enough to have melted like dew leaving no trace except a faint echo of memories and blurred visions of smiles, tears, and togetherness. Yes everything passes, the great healer heals it all, I move on and you move away and the we is lost in this on and away. I hold on to you more tightly hoping to never let you go but it is like holding on to quicksand and all I can see is it is all slipping away the tighter I grasp. So what do I do, hold on, let go, pretend to feel comfortable with this loss or enjoy it while it lasts? The choices are many but the result is the same any choice I make. The result is this too shall pass. The awe, the respect, the beauty, the passion, the warmth, the comfort, the pain, the restlessness, the separation, the togetherness, the night, the day, the timeless time, the touch, the feel, the magic, and the chaos will all end only to beget a new turmoil within. Togetherness is not threatened by the parting, it is the parting that is threatened by the passing. And yet this too shall pass…

Monica

The Long Way

Today it all seemed unusually long; the way to and the way from; it felt long enough to believe we would not meet, but it did end and meet we did; for a moment short enough to make the long and the longing feel longer;

a smile, a gaze, a question, an answer, a breath, a sigh, an expression, a confession all exchanged in that one moment;
an unshed tear, a shoulder rest, a warm caress, a pat on the head, a brush of the finger tips, an eye lock, a whisper, silence all un-exchanged;
and then even the moment ended, before it should have;

The way back from you seemed longer and maybe it never will really end.

Dreamy Lost Evenings...

When did the night get done?
When did the day again begin?
Seems like only a blink,
Dreams dissolve and reality sets in.

Were the skies too high,
For the weakened wing?
Was the melody too sweet?
That the pained heart cannot sing?

A dreamy yesterday buried,
Locked and bolted to rest.
A keepsake for the lonely morrow,
When present is put to test.

Tears be the faithful companions,
For journey of many a mile,
The heart desires no laughter,
Contented with the broken smile.

For the one in whom I find the beauty of life!

Each day I step one step further and if we begin to count I have walked for many days now. Each step takes me farther away from you and from us together. Then on a lonely peaceful night I look back and call out but we are far far away and I can’t see you and you can hear me no more.

The mountains of flour, the black and white keys, your paintings, your soft toys, your neat notebooks, weave the perfect backdrop for the play of nostalgia being performed by
memories on the stage of reminiscence.

I remember you with a smile and I remember you with a tear. I stretch out my hand in the hope that you will hug me and secure me a safe haven in your presence once again. But the mirror image reflects the real me whom you do not know and whom you had better not know.

I know you are only a call away and yet the lump in my throat prevents me from punching ten numbers. I close my eyes and do the only thing I can do. I wish one more time that you like your perfect self enjoy a perfectly blissful life full of love and happiness you so deserve.

Flashes

Flashes of joy
Flashes of truth
Flashes of impermanence
Flashes of confessions
Flashes of fear
Flashes of hopes
Flashes of tears
Flashes of strength
Flashes of inertia
Flashes of memories
Flashes of dreams
Flashes of sleep
Flashes of awakening
Flashes of attachment
Flashes of solitude
Flashes of pain
Flashes of desires
Flashes of colors
And then, all ashes of nothingness

Moods!

A friend, philosopher, guide recently gave me a thought to ponder about, he talked about monotones of blue as well as variety of colors and how both seem perfectly complete. Unknowingly I mulled over the idea and today on a spur I decided to classify my moods into colors.

My fav – The Black Coffee Blue Mood

Get up early morning and just stare at the ceiling fan like it is telling you a million stories, pouring out words and emotions creating a complete chaos within. That’s what creates the urge for the tall mug of absofab bitter black coffee. One kick and am hooked on to the disturbances that Morrison, Lessing, or Kafka superbly generate, till I slowly slip back into the comforting numbness. On impulse it is time for a guru dutt or likes flick till the acidic stomach growls for more black coffee. Caffeine pumped in and its pen and paper time or should I say lappy and keyboard time. The dark night is the best bit, unsettling questions, non convincing desires, un-healing pain, and just more bitter black coffee albeit mingled with the salts this time! Its cheers to the cracked and may I add crooked me.

Pretty Regular – The Rosy Pink Best Friend Mood

This is pretty much the outer me. Call upon friends and tease and pester them into pillow fights and mad dancing. Catch a movie, grab a grub or merely go on a shopping spree. Strengthen relationships over a cup of coffee or bury the blues in the drum beats of the disc. Pacify with a walk on the beach and then wish loads of love with bear hugs and wish loads of smiles when it is time to say good bye. Quite refreshing, it feels good while it lasts types I would say. Cheers to all the good times and the lovely friends that make up my normal world.

Scary when it is – The Loaded Red

Anger, violence and dark streaks come to the fore. The pills, the knives, and probably men are on the charts, just that the latter get dropped out as quickly as the former get embraced. Why? Men are too boring or maybe the knives and pills more fascinating, do I even need to think? It is sure shot drop dead scary, the desire and the temptation. A tussle begins between the sane and the insane and the result of the war decides whether it is cheers to the echo of insanity or yet again submission to an inevitable listless dawn.

Safely Rare – Passionate Orange

Keats, Yeats and Lawrence, come demanding attention after the dusty neglect. Poetry blossoms and my bare walls are painted with scribbling all over. This is the ultra magnetic mood, which even the bitter black coffee dare not disturb. It is time to get high with words and maybe then some sensible people do stand a chance. The grey certainly takes precedence over the black and the white and those with grey cells too over the mere plastic smiles morons. It is cheers to overflowing passion of creativity and this time in more senses than one ;-)

The Bliss of Solitude – The Calming Lavender

Why Lavender? I don’t know. Just feel it is soothing and pacifying, one color which lets me be as be, no questions asked and trust me I like it this way. So what does the lavender solitude amount to? It is my me time. I may switch off my cell and my world and be lost in myself or I may call upon a thousand and revive my connections. I may dress up and treat myself to an energetic dance performance or I may go back to the oldest cotton rags and just walk down memory road. It could be anything but one thing for sure trespassers not allowed strictly. Cheers to the essence of I, me, myself.

The Monotonous – Vanilla White

It is too monotonous and hopelessly boring to write about. Nevertheless, it is the typical work hour, day and week one labels routine. Does anyone even wanna know more?

PS: More moods and colors on a later Black day I suppose.

Desires

I want to break the rules this day and take the freedom of flight.
Tell me how exactly is a day different than the night?
Am I safe walking the street only when the sun shines bright?
Or do the nighthawks feed and prey with only dimming of light?
Let me walk and never stop and see where the moonlight leads me.
Let me for once throw the garb of goodness and know how bad can bad be.
I want to jump I want to cry I want to embrace the sea and sky
For once –
Let me laugh recklessly
Let me cry ceaselessly
Let me dance endlessly
Let me dream fearlessly
Let me be lost carelessly
And then just rock back into the numbness and await another dawn

That which words don't express

The afternoon saw my world crumble, every bit. All that I had held so strongly within just decided to give up on me and collapse, flowing down into a stream of unceasing tears. I wept, and I wept, and I wept even more until all feelings simply melted down into more pain that seems to have left a permanant dull ache where it hurts most. I asked myself one more time, why I let people walk out of my life like it matters none, when I know that I take nothing casually, a person who I let enter the gates of my life become the very essence of my being, yet I stand back and watch them go....or maybe I really make it impossible for them to stay, I don't really know. And worse still, why do I let them come back again when I know this re-entry is just another step closer to the exit? Maybe I know the answers but I do not want to say them aloud to myself. So I wept again with silent tears today, which did not know how to stop. I am a narcissist, I love my transperant eyes most, because they leave no traces and truthfully reflect the emptiness they hold within. It seems to be a classic example of irony then, that just this morning mumma said in a tone I haven't heard in 27 years of my living life, 'if you are disturbed by the news, you can talk to me. consider me a friend, a mother, what ever you will, abuse me if you like, but speak to me if you are stressed out'. Well I certainly am not a bad actor, i must claim. I held my head high and in the most serene tones replied, that i have grown up well to handle my life, mused on taking up ownership of one's mistakes and moving on and so on. She patted my hand and said with a smile she is glad I have matured. Don't know if she was putting up an equally good performance to counter mine?