Writers Blog

Nothing's Sweet

2007-12-04T20:56:00.001-08:00

Sweet words he whispered
Sweet nothings they were
For they didn't mean anything
Not a thing, sweet nothings

the magic that was us
the euphoria that never faded
the rainbow-colored dreams
it was all so simple

Dreams died painfully slow
those we saw together in the day
promises had an expiry date
that i could not read till it was too late

i knew he would go away
because all good things always do
love is never forever
like i thought before

i waited for a change of mind
wasted tears on a nomad
hated him for every pain
cursed him for every sorrow

yet one call was all i needed
to take me back to him
to listen to him speak again
speak aloud those sweet nothings...

a walk

2007-11-23T03:05:00.000-08:00

blue skies, wispy clouds
green grass, tall trees
heaven below in the valley around
dreams i could write on the sky

silence all around
no birds chirping
no whispering winds
a hush hush you daren't break

i sit for an hour
as the voices in my head
scream in agony
loud and persistent

months since i have slept
dreamless nights i yearn
the voices suffocate
the aching continues

i have run away
away without a trace
but the trace of the past
continues to haunt

the mist thickens
the voices wail
i see nothing ahead
till i walk into the nothingness

The story continued

2007-11-22T22:35:00.002-08:00

Thinking of the past Ameya started weeping. She sat there crouched and crying. Remembering her mother and her ever-present concern towards her youngest daughter. Her dog, biscuit who would wait near the doorstep, and lick her wet, the moment she reached home. Her retired father, sitting with his pile of newspapers, solving cryptic crosswords all day long and quibbling with mummy. And the hot cup of tea they would share after she returned home. She missed them all so terribly.

And then as suddenly, Ameya stopped crying. She had to control herself. Be courageous like she had promised herself she would. The rain had not stopped still. Now Ameya was really worried.

A calm person, she prided on her ability to remain cool and collected, no matter what happened. Leaving home, leaving everything behind was not an impulsive decision. A well-thought through exercise after she had measured the pros and the cons. And then after finding a one-room home that she could afford for a year without having to work, she left home.

No one knew why she left. A letter that she couriered after leaving home, would reach her parents an tell them she was safe and alive. The mobile phone, she had turned off. Stop reminiscing, she told herself. It's all in the past now and will be back in the future sometime soon. She just needed to get through this phase in life.

It still had not stopped raining. But if you listened carefully, you could discern a little change in the tempo of the raindrops. It was definitely a little less heavier now. Ameya waited another 10 minutes. Finally the downpour ceased and a light drizzle took its place. Tying her stole around her head, Ameya decided to return home, the veggies were not really important anyway.

Home was just a 15 minute walk. But it was really dark now and the road very slippery. With trepidation, she set out. Not like I have much of a choice, she thought. The cold mountain air was more than what she could bear, but increasing pace meant risking a fall.

20 minutes later, Ameya was finally home. Unlocking the door, she heaved a sigh of relief only to open the door and scream a moment later.

(Now that I have come so far, please dont tell me to stop. I have the plot outline now. Guess what you think has happened. If you are right, I will buy you a drink. )

A Story.

2007-11-22T22:35:00.001-08:00

The almost inaudible pitter patter of the rain drops has suddenly become louder. Ameya was stuck once again in the rains. And as usual she was not carrying an umbrella. As the rain increased in intensity, so did her impatience to get back home. It had been 30 minutes already and the rains had shown no signs of abating. Instead the water level had increased steadily, going from barely-a-puddle to ankle-high. Barely 4:30 in the evening and it was getting dark too. There was no one in sight either. After all, no one would be foolish to venture out in this weather. No one but me, she rued.

Ameya lived in the outskirts of town, in a small one-room house, if you could call it that. A 10 feet by 10 feet square enclosure, which housed a small bathroom, a built-in kitchenette and all of Ameya's worldly possessions, which did not amount to a lot. Hardly a lot, but she could not get anything better with her budget. Though very small, her home was well-kept. Everything in its logical place and not a fleck of dust anywhere in sight. Ameya was incredibly fastidious, and unfortunately, also more incredibly forgetful.

There had been really no apparent reason for her to set out in weather like this, but the square walls that she considered home and had grown to love, had gotten to her. Having convinced herself that she needed to buy fresh vegetables and dal for dinner, she set out.

5:00 PM and Ameya started getting restless. After all, she had moved to the small hill town only 2 months back. No one knew her well here and those who knew her didn't know she was here. After leaving home, she had not called her family or informed her friends. Well and truly alone, she wondered, for the first time, if she should have at least let Shimit know where she was.

A shiver went down her spine. After all, it was getting colder by the minute and Ameya, with her usual forgetfulness had forgotten to carry her pullover. She wondered how long she could take shelter in the abandoned tea-shed. A rickety structure with a tin roof, it had already rattled twice with alarming ferocity, reminding her of the fragility of the structure. She sat huddled waiting for the raining to slow down just a bit.

A tall, slim girl, 25 years of age, pretty and intelligent, Ameya had it all. A family she loved, a boy friend who was considered a good catch, lots of good friends and a job she loathed but paid well. And she left it all. Not in a single motion, hurling everything dear to her but bit-by-slow bit.

First the job. Without a reason. Then the friends. She just stopped meeting them. Then the boyfriend. She picked up a fight and never did make up with him. Shimit tried calling a million times but could get nothing out of her. From a normal outgoing girl to a social recluse in 12 days. On the 16th, she left home.

To be continued...

(I would really like to know whether you think I should write any further. Please comment and let me know. You can now leave anonymous comments - I have enabled that.)

Layers-II

2007-11-22T22:34:00.001-08:00

in a faraway land
where no one knew me, or i anyone around
where none was friend and none were foe
where there was no before
nor it mattered of tomorrow
would i sing in a crowd?
or dance without needing to get sozzled?
I wonder if i'd peel off the layers that have clung
or put on more, that i dont dare to add today

in another time
at another place
would i paint pretty pictures
or ugly ones even?
would i care what people thought
or not give a damn like i say (untruthfully) that i do?

in another place
at another bend
would i live by the rules that i follow now
or the ones that i dont ever
would i lie, steal, cheat or hurt
or would i be as sanctimonious as i now pretend to be

in a near-by place
where many think they know me
and i know so few
where all are friends
and some are foes.
i wish i could speak from within
sing when i like
shout when i want
love with abandon
and hate with more venom
make my rules to live by
and break them when i must

in another place, sometime in time
hours of my own, stolen from another
i am true to me, and no one else
i pray
in that farway land, i could be me.

Layers

2007-11-22T22:31:00.000-08:00

Layers over another
Like an onion
You peel the skin
To find another below

So many faces
So many lies
One over another
Lie upon lie

Never the same
Always a-changing
Color upon color
Die over die

So to match myself
With everyone else
I cover myself
Layer over layer

Till I find myself
Smothered, beyond recognition
Till I can't make out
What is me and what is rot

I want to peel off
But the layers, they cling on
Bits n pieces
That make me, me

I take off the layers
The bits n pieces too
And nothing remains
Not even me
But something remains
something like me...

Waiting for Glory

2007-11-22T22:09:00.000-08:00

Waiting for Glory

Lost and forlorn,
Standing alone,
Long forgotton,
Never remembered maybe.

Old and alone,
The walls cracking,
The paint never won its war
Against the elements.

Lovers carve their name,
Etch it for eternity,
Lovers seperate,
The names remain.

The authorities come,
Take pictures some,
Inordinate delays,
Keep tourists at bay.

The tomb awaits,
Day after day,
The monument stands,
Waiting for renown...