Monday, September 24, 2012


I am feeling this sudden pain for you. I do not know how you are keeping, how many tears you've shed, whether that typewriter room-mate of yours has stopped talking for tonight, what music the Sri-Lankan "dude" is playing. I donot know if you still feel meaowy-meaowy or tender when you think of me, whether amma calls every morning asking you about me.

I just know that I have closed one door, not stopped loving you but stopped remembering how the room looks like behind the door I have closed.

I know you will be fine
I will be fine
And one day we would have moved on.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

New Post

I am running out of new things to say
I realise that (and if you too notice carefully),
All my words have been said.

I only edit older thoughts,
Feigning to touch a new sadness sometimes
Tell you, for example:
"My dreams are grey-blue instead of blue-grey today",
"My sunsets are a little less orange"

You sometimes really believe 
That I'm growing sadder and tenderer
Look into my eyes deeply,
Suddenly kiss my first strand of gray hair.




Saturday, September 15, 2012

In the middle,
We were talking

And a faraway feeling crept over me
I felt strangeness and a void

I missed being loved
And being in love

I missed listening to heartbeats
From a lover's chest.



Thursday, September 13, 2012

I have faith in strange uncertainties,
Mysteries and open-ends and thrills

This is the life I dreamed about
I dreamt to set me free.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012


You want a temporary permanence
Something both warm and cold
And wild and gentle

You say you aren't the loving type
But every time you touch me
Why do I see tenderness in your eyes?
I think you are a bit lost,
In the chaos of life and passion,
The dilemma between body and soul

Our romance is but a forbidden fruit
in the garden of Edens.

Sunday, September 02, 2012

That Black T-shirt, That Guy


There was a time when I first fell in love or thought I had fallen in love with someone who loved me back. Memories of those days come to me very oddly, at random points of time, at work, in sleep albeit very very infrequently.
Not much is remembered now. Most of the colourful pieces have been tucked away, some even conveniently forgotten.
A few come and go.


A high court of justice, long black robes, weird men, corridors.

Early morning trysts, a rainy day and Chinese food. Two people crammed under one umbrella. Lemon tea, the beer bottle man, an old man with a story of his life.

A cap and a history and a happy swine-flu outbreak. Drawing straight lines in a hospital canteen.
Forgetting classes. 

That guy
That black round-necked T-shirt
That first visit to a certain house.

Certain things that never come back again, are perhaps meant just that way.