They stood face to face in a room in the middle of nowhere. Alone. The rain beat down on them, drumming against the rooftop. The utterly dark sky insulated them against the universe.
He watched her walk towards him. She was to him the eye of a tornado, with emotions swirling around her in a mad frenzy. She seemed like a wild animal- an outsider. They were two of a kind. She told him that she will give him everything he needed and then she will take it all away from him. She offered to show him how to be alive but told him that she will also give him death. He trembled, afraid of her. She agonized over his apparent agony. They looked at each other. To take the plunge or not? She asked him to take the death-leap with her. He backed away. He got ready to escape.
When she held out her hand to him, he took it.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
So near...
I remember traveling in the train. A 40hr journey. I remember passing through half of India. I remember the sounds, the taste, the beauty, the ugliness, the sense of freedom. I remember sitting at the entrance of the coach, legs dangling outside, staring at the virgin night. A night over a land which has barely ever seen an artificial light. A night that turned truly black every time the moon hid behind the clouds. So black that the light from the coach was reflected back. Every once in a while, I could make out random shapes as the train sped through the vast landscape. A tree, a scarecrow, a hut or maybe they were something altogether different. It was, after all, extremely dark. I plugged my earphones then, switched on my i-Pod. I listened to the Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven as the night rushed by me. I looked up at the sky. I saw the full moon. I understood for the first time the sheer beauty of the moon. I was mesmerized. I stared at the moon for some more time. I stared until the rhythm of the train sent me into a trance-like meditative state. I thought of things I had never thought of and I thought of things I think about everyday. I felt at peace. A tiny speck in the infinite space. A blink of the universe's eye. That is me, I thought. I was strangely comforted by the thought. I knew then, that the world did not revolve around me, not even my world. I knew that it was true for everyone.
I remember experiencing the sudden rush of blood, every time the train stopped at some small station. I could have gotten down and ran away. I could have been a drifter for life. I could have tasted forever in an instant of time. Many forevers. A step, was all I needed to take. I did not take that step. Today, I wonder why. I crave for that feeling today- the feeling of being one step away from breaking all the bonds. Is it a crime to escape when there is no fight? Will I be called a coward if I run when I have nothing to run away from? Can I not escape for the sheer pleasure of escaping?
Can I not? I wonder.
I remember experiencing the sudden rush of blood, every time the train stopped at some small station. I could have gotten down and ran away. I could have been a drifter for life. I could have tasted forever in an instant of time. Many forevers. A step, was all I needed to take. I did not take that step. Today, I wonder why. I crave for that feeling today- the feeling of being one step away from breaking all the bonds. Is it a crime to escape when there is no fight? Will I be called a coward if I run when I have nothing to run away from? Can I not escape for the sheer pleasure of escaping?
Can I not? I wonder.
The Man Who Was Fooled By Hope.
Covered in grime,
Sinking in quicksand,
Oh, you look so funny,
About to sleep forever standing,
Deep in this muck.
Where, my friend, is your deathbed?
Tell me.
Can you taste it?
The taste of the murderous sand on your last breath?
What will you give to me if I can make you disappear?
Think about it, friend.
Out of this death-trap,
On the shores of a tropical island,
Or maybe in the middle of a peaceful valley somewhere in the Himalayas?
How about a crowded city?
A city pulsing with life!
I can give it all to you.
I can make you disappear.
You don't have to run,
You don't have to fight,
Stand back and be gifted with a new life.
Start worshiping me, friend.
Your time is running out.
There you go!
You stupid fool!
Now, nose deep in the sand!
You and I, we will have to talk through eyes!
I hate conversing like this!
Do you want me to go away?
Why did you not speak?
What is there to think about?
How could you chicken out on the deal of a life time?
You stupid fuck!
There, there.
Don't cry.
If nothing, I will watch you die.
You will not pass away unnoticed.
Your death will be documented and noted down.
This, I give to you free of charge.
I am your friend, after all.
What?
You want to be free?
You want to disappear?
Is that what your eyes tell me, friend?
Is that what they say from behind a curtain of tears?
Shake your head or move it in whatever way you can,
Just a signal,
So that I know.
So that I can be sure.
Heh, you look funny,
I am sorry but you do.
Trying to shake your head like that,
Did you ever think it might end like this?
Ever?
Alright! Enough!
A snap of my fingers,
And you will be free,
Not from me.
But free,
You know?
*snap*
Sinking in quicksand,
Oh, you look so funny,
About to sleep forever standing,
Deep in this muck.
Where, my friend, is your deathbed?
Tell me.
Can you taste it?
The taste of the murderous sand on your last breath?
What will you give to me if I can make you disappear?
Think about it, friend.
Out of this death-trap,
On the shores of a tropical island,
Or maybe in the middle of a peaceful valley somewhere in the Himalayas?
How about a crowded city?
A city pulsing with life!
I can give it all to you.
I can make you disappear.
You don't have to run,
You don't have to fight,
Stand back and be gifted with a new life.
Start worshiping me, friend.
Your time is running out.
There you go!
You stupid fool!
Now, nose deep in the sand!
You and I, we will have to talk through eyes!
I hate conversing like this!
Do you want me to go away?
Why did you not speak?
What is there to think about?
How could you chicken out on the deal of a life time?
You stupid fuck!
There, there.
Don't cry.
If nothing, I will watch you die.
You will not pass away unnoticed.
Your death will be documented and noted down.
This, I give to you free of charge.
I am your friend, after all.
What?
You want to be free?
You want to disappear?
Is that what your eyes tell me, friend?
Is that what they say from behind a curtain of tears?
Shake your head or move it in whatever way you can,
Just a signal,
So that I know.
So that I can be sure.
Heh, you look funny,
I am sorry but you do.
Trying to shake your head like that,
Did you ever think it might end like this?
Ever?
Alright! Enough!
A snap of my fingers,
And you will be free,
Not from me.
But free,
You know?
*snap*
Friday, March 20, 2009
Window.
The corner room on the first floor of a run down motel. It was cheap. I needed to save money.
I had time to kill. A thin sheen of sweat covered me. It was humid, not in an unpleasant way. I stood against the window, behind the grill. It was slightly windy outside. A cool breeze wafted in every now and then. The feel of the wind as it evaporated the sweat off my skin made me feel at peace. A lazy peace. The curtain covered half of the window while I covered the other half. The street light hid me in shadows, the grill painted on my skin. The palm tree outside was half lit, half in shadows- sinister is how I would describe it. It appeared to be reaching out for me, like it had for every person who had stood behind that window. Such everlasting yearning. If only I could talk to it... or maybe not. It was better this way. It was 10:30p.m. I saw couples walk on the road, holding hands. I saw a drunkard trying to fight with himself for control. I saw a man who stumbled while walking and looked around furtively, embarrassed perhaps. I saw him regain his composure as he found out that nobody was observing him or so he thought. I saw all of them as I stood behind the grill. My prison or was I the only one free? I stood there, lost in the wind as it talked to the palm tree. The rustling noises almost decipherable. Almost. The street my very own theater. An hour had passed by. I decided to light a cigarette. The time had nothing to do with it. But an hour had passed. That has to be important. Something worth noting down.
The sky was partially cloudy. The stars peeked at me every now and then, before they disappeared behind the floating clouds. Strange. Majestic as the stars are, to be hidden by thin masses of gas. Strange but hardly surprising. Surprises. They don't come my way very often. I feel numb. Old at times. I can stay here forever- in a cocoon of shadows, sweat and cool wind. Watching. It is scary, but I am not scared. There is a rhythm to all of this and I am a part of it. It will go away once I abandon this post. So, I decide to stay for some time more. My cigarette is almost burnt out. I throw it out of the window. I watch it fall. My bid to let the outside or the inside world know I am there. To let it know that I exist. It goes unnoticed.
The road is deserted now. It looks beautiful. Black. Every now and then the illusion of beauty is destroyed by the headlights of a passing car. It is immediately restored. I find it fascinating- the immediate restoring of the beauty. A thought touches my conscience and escapes before I can grab it. That thought would have made sense of it all. But, it has gone away now. I think about it for a while. Then, I let it go. I see a bike stop on the side of the road. The man gets off the bike and lights a smoke. The two of us smoke. Each lost in our own world. This is strangely addictive. I feel tired but I want to stay here. The phone rings. The wires that connect me to my other self snatch me away. The window loses its allure. It will always stay with me, though. The fact that I could live there. Behind a window.
I had time to kill. A thin sheen of sweat covered me. It was humid, not in an unpleasant way. I stood against the window, behind the grill. It was slightly windy outside. A cool breeze wafted in every now and then. The feel of the wind as it evaporated the sweat off my skin made me feel at peace. A lazy peace. The curtain covered half of the window while I covered the other half. The street light hid me in shadows, the grill painted on my skin. The palm tree outside was half lit, half in shadows- sinister is how I would describe it. It appeared to be reaching out for me, like it had for every person who had stood behind that window. Such everlasting yearning. If only I could talk to it... or maybe not. It was better this way. It was 10:30p.m. I saw couples walk on the road, holding hands. I saw a drunkard trying to fight with himself for control. I saw a man who stumbled while walking and looked around furtively, embarrassed perhaps. I saw him regain his composure as he found out that nobody was observing him or so he thought. I saw all of them as I stood behind the grill. My prison or was I the only one free? I stood there, lost in the wind as it talked to the palm tree. The rustling noises almost decipherable. Almost. The street my very own theater. An hour had passed by. I decided to light a cigarette. The time had nothing to do with it. But an hour had passed. That has to be important. Something worth noting down.
The sky was partially cloudy. The stars peeked at me every now and then, before they disappeared behind the floating clouds. Strange. Majestic as the stars are, to be hidden by thin masses of gas. Strange but hardly surprising. Surprises. They don't come my way very often. I feel numb. Old at times. I can stay here forever- in a cocoon of shadows, sweat and cool wind. Watching. It is scary, but I am not scared. There is a rhythm to all of this and I am a part of it. It will go away once I abandon this post. So, I decide to stay for some time more. My cigarette is almost burnt out. I throw it out of the window. I watch it fall. My bid to let the outside or the inside world know I am there. To let it know that I exist. It goes unnoticed.
The road is deserted now. It looks beautiful. Black. Every now and then the illusion of beauty is destroyed by the headlights of a passing car. It is immediately restored. I find it fascinating- the immediate restoring of the beauty. A thought touches my conscience and escapes before I can grab it. That thought would have made sense of it all. But, it has gone away now. I think about it for a while. Then, I let it go. I see a bike stop on the side of the road. The man gets off the bike and lights a smoke. The two of us smoke. Each lost in our own world. This is strangely addictive. I feel tired but I want to stay here. The phone rings. The wires that connect me to my other self snatch me away. The window loses its allure. It will always stay with me, though. The fact that I could live there. Behind a window.
Friday, February 20, 2009
The Black Lake.
The murky depths await me.
I've stared too long at my distorted reflection,
On the ground I stand,
The other self looks back at me,
Looks me in the eye.
That terrible gaze.
Those eyes...
They know,
They shimmer with sinister knowledge,
Or perhaps all knowledge, if complete, is sinister?
They know everything there is to know about me.
They are my eyes,
Yet not mine,
The reflection always knows more,
You only choose not to see.
The godlike stare,
The temple of the black lake.
My reflection, made a god.
Tossed a pebble too many,
Observed them skim the surface of the terrible lake,
Seen them fly,
In the end they all sink, without fail.
Now, I am afraid,
So must I.
The lake beckons,
It ripples with impatience,
It must have its fodder.
It must be fed.
I breathe,
A deep breath.
The lake breaths with me.
It sighs, even as I do.
How afraid am I to dive within my own mind?
To face the whirlpool of my own thoughts?
How afraid are you?
Night follows night.
A darker night descends.
The moon has never shone more brightly.
The wind has never been this cold,
Never has its anguish been so apparent.
The reflection grows,
The other self becomes more real.
Time for me to step into the shoes of the distorted reflection.
Time for me to touch the bottom of the black lake.
I've stared too long at my distorted reflection,
On the ground I stand,
The other self looks back at me,
Looks me in the eye.
That terrible gaze.
Those eyes...
They know,
They shimmer with sinister knowledge,
Or perhaps all knowledge, if complete, is sinister?
They know everything there is to know about me.
They are my eyes,
Yet not mine,
The reflection always knows more,
You only choose not to see.
The godlike stare,
The temple of the black lake.
My reflection, made a god.
Tossed a pebble too many,
Observed them skim the surface of the terrible lake,
Seen them fly,
In the end they all sink, without fail.
Now, I am afraid,
So must I.
The lake beckons,
It ripples with impatience,
It must have its fodder.
It must be fed.
I breathe,
A deep breath.
The lake breaths with me.
It sighs, even as I do.
How afraid am I to dive within my own mind?
To face the whirlpool of my own thoughts?
How afraid are you?
Night follows night.
A darker night descends.
The moon has never shone more brightly.
The wind has never been this cold,
Never has its anguish been so apparent.
The reflection grows,
The other self becomes more real.
Time for me to step into the shoes of the distorted reflection.
Time for me to touch the bottom of the black lake.
Monday, February 16, 2009
The Fraud. The Magician.
Look.
Watch me spin images.
So wondrous.
Beautiful.
Surreal.
A sweep of hand,
There. Your life is complete.
A sudden movement,
The falling hat,
Slight of hand,
Your life in shambles.
I give to you; distorted reality.
So easy on the eyes.
You would want to believe every lie I speak.
Yes, it's true.
Watch.
Look at me, as I dig your grave,
As I make you believe it to be a castle.
Lie down on this exquisite feather bed,
No, don't worry.
Ignore the smell of the death.
Ignore the tombstone.
What have I turned you into?
A cracked sculpture.
A shadow of perfection you used to be?
Yes, these tears.
These tears of blood are good for you.
They cleanse you.
Ignore them for now.
Observe my hand,
Look into my eyes,
I'll give you another pleasing lie.
The best one of the lot.
A knife soiled by gore.
This will be your salvation.
Trust me.
I am the magician.
Ignore the hurt,
Listen to my lies.
Stay in the world I build for you.
The knife will take you there.
Hold it.
The shrieking wind celebrates your triumph.
These ruins, are nothing but a stronger foundation for your future empire.
The mourning night bids farewell to your worries.
The weeping skies, ask for your sacrifice.
You have to go.
You are a creation of pain.
Built by a fraud.
A sculpture of lies.
A tap of the wand,
You disappear.
Watch me spin images.
So wondrous.
Beautiful.
Surreal.
A sweep of hand,
There. Your life is complete.
A sudden movement,
The falling hat,
Slight of hand,
Your life in shambles.
I give to you; distorted reality.
So easy on the eyes.
You would want to believe every lie I speak.
Yes, it's true.
Watch.
Look at me, as I dig your grave,
As I make you believe it to be a castle.
Lie down on this exquisite feather bed,
No, don't worry.
Ignore the smell of the death.
Ignore the tombstone.
What have I turned you into?
A cracked sculpture.
A shadow of perfection you used to be?
Yes, these tears.
These tears of blood are good for you.
They cleanse you.
Ignore them for now.
Observe my hand,
Look into my eyes,
I'll give you another pleasing lie.
The best one of the lot.
A knife soiled by gore.
This will be your salvation.
Trust me.
I am the magician.
Ignore the hurt,
Listen to my lies.
Stay in the world I build for you.
The knife will take you there.
Hold it.
The shrieking wind celebrates your triumph.
These ruins, are nothing but a stronger foundation for your future empire.
The mourning night bids farewell to your worries.
The weeping skies, ask for your sacrifice.
You have to go.
You are a creation of pain.
Built by a fraud.
A sculpture of lies.
A tap of the wand,
You disappear.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Realization
Drunken delirium,
Fog of alcoholic fumes,
A clearing, I see.
And in it, the stark truth.
Can it be so?
The truth so cruel.
A hammer on my head,
An electric shock running up my spine.
But the truth it is,
And it is here to stay.
Accept it.
Bow down,
For it is god the of rationality,
The grip for your sanity.
Will I run from it?
Will I cower?
Can I watch myself bleed?
Can you?
Ahahahaha, how does it feel to see the bubble burst?
To see a cliched phrase come to life?
Suckered in by words,
Random sounds?
How fickle is reality?
How tempting a pleasing lie.
Sigh.
Now, I know.
Now, I do.
Well, fuck it.
Let the truth sleep,
Let it be,
Let it lie,
Till the time it needs to feed.
Now is the time for lies,
For now is the time to live.
Fog of alcoholic fumes,
A clearing, I see.
And in it, the stark truth.
Can it be so?
The truth so cruel.
A hammer on my head,
An electric shock running up my spine.
But the truth it is,
And it is here to stay.
Accept it.
Bow down,
For it is god the of rationality,
The grip for your sanity.
Will I run from it?
Will I cower?
Can I watch myself bleed?
Can you?
Ahahahaha, how does it feel to see the bubble burst?
To see a cliched phrase come to life?
Suckered in by words,
Random sounds?
How fickle is reality?
How tempting a pleasing lie.
Sigh.
Now, I know.
Now, I do.
Well, fuck it.
Let the truth sleep,
Let it be,
Let it lie,
Till the time it needs to feed.
Now is the time for lies,
For now is the time to live.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)