My Struggle to be Someone

Those fragments of pointless thoughts-
Will always chase me like a breathless wind:
And there’s this winter mist-
That fills my eyes with memories-----------
I thought have shattered.
My mind loves doing crosswords-
With what I call:
Colourless emotions-
Aimless thoughts-
Worthless confessions:
They drive me to this lividness:
-----------I cannot explain.

I struggle but cannot overlook:
The beauty of the neon
Over wet streets
The odour of the earth
‘Fore thunderstorms
Or the nuance of dewdrops
O’er green grass.


And then I sit,
Helpless:
Under stary skies,
Under half moons,
Absorbed in shallow thoughts-
Nothing deep….

But the virgin inside-
Longs for a monsoon of colours
Protests without words-
Wildly.

At the dead hours of night
That ugly emotion swells up-
Histrionic , threatening.
Scolding-
As to how I should not be
Who I am
But what I must be.

But then,
Outside the window-
The street lamps shimmer:
Over empty streets
Over stray dogs
Over dry leaves
And the wind tries
Its swan song….
But lasts.

My watch respires as always,
Not a moment slow.
Not a moment fast.