How to not compartmentalize.

Its a fine morning and I'm walking down the streets.
I'm wearing a red hat and I've got a couple of airs around me.
No brazen. Just lifelike.

I huddle over potholes and I say,'Hey I got this!'.
Not that I'm the recipient of tender care but I don't long for such.
At least I'd like to think so.

I was actually folding over the thoughts that keep me company.
Nothing heavenly. No bad airs either.
Just thoughts.

I was humming away to the trees and I was wondering if its okay to keep doing that.
I wasn't sure who had the answer.
So I decided to depend on the grey cells that make me who I am.
And of course I tend to grow that opinion with all possible shades of vanity you could allege someone with.

So I wake up . Look out my window. Its beautiful today, I think.
I smile.

I felt like staring out of my window all day long.
So I run out and I put a sign on my door.
It says,'Hey I got this!'.

I wanted to eat after a while of staring at the endless beauty 'God' so graciously provided the world with.
So I had a little bit of jam.
I like that colour.
I like how it feels on my tongue.
I thank my brain.
Not the jam maker companies . No.

I look around and I see a cat.
I want to play with her.
I do.

So I get her. Cause I can get her.
Cause deep down I hope she wants to play too.
Grey cells. Why thank you!

I like her so much. I don't want to not have her around.
Who do I play with if she goes away?, I think.
I like her.
I do.

But I'm bored now.
I wanna run a little.

Curiosity, you wild giver of hope.

So me and my cat go running.
Apparently she likes me too.
For some reason of her own.
Or so I hope.

She's faster and its fun.
I like her more than I like other humans.

So I come back home and I wonder if she's as hungry as I am.
Has to be.
So I share my food with her.
She looks at me and nods.
Maybe she knows I'm hungry too.

We eat together and we lie down.
Next to each other.

I look at the stars and I wonder if its going to rain soon.
She looks at the window and I wonder what she s thinking.

So I tell her my stories. The really bad ones.
The ones I cant tell humans.
She nods.
Doesn't leave my side though.

Cause she 's a cat and I know she doesn't understand my language, perhaps?
Perhaps being a hopeless addition here.
I laugh.

I don't know for sure if she likes my stories but I feel like sharing them with her.
Cause I can.
And for some reason it feels good.

I start to treat her as a part of my world.
Cause she knows more of me than most humans do.
And strangely, I feel comfortable around her.

Why should it be any other way, I think.
I like her company.
And I hope she doesn't particularly dislike mine.

So we go for walks every night.
I don't like waking up to the sun.
Not cause I don't like the sun.
Cause I don't feel like.
Don't think more reason should be assigned to such things.

She goes out to hunt for animal meat.
And when she cant I go get some for her.
Cause I have started to value her company more and more.

I want her to be comfortable at home.
Her home.

And that's all I have to say right now.

(I'm going to walk over to where she's sleeping and snuggle.)

This feels good.

ALONG CAME YOU!

When fire and ice spoke in unison and warned me of a storm so full,

When purple grapes turned sweeter and sweeter and bees fought harder for honey and the moon,

When angry birds grew tired of doom and sang lullabies, I'd written for you.

Along came you.

I saw trees burning from down below,

And seasons wailing or crying in hope ,

of something that would shake those mighty shores.

And let autumn play its windy chores.

When peace was but two cards I'd hold.

Along came you.

There were those stars you'd write about and 

the all the dirt you would turn to gold,

I'd known angels could fly and that skies could turn dirty mellow.

That dragons could smile and winds could taste just like dew.

Along came you.

You named our little boy 'Khaish',

And I loved him for you and I.

You forgot his name ,

And told me to think of a time Khaish wouldn't want to be in.

Resistance was touch ,

And you were a fraction of those dreams.

I would search for Khaish and you'd read me the first line of your story.

I'd look for bulbs that were red but they would never seem to bloom.

So I wrote your name.

And I wrote it again.

Along came things you could never partake in.

Along came your words.

And set me free.

But was it only the next morning I  realized,

You were everything but a dream.

I tried to pull those thoughts together,

to carve you out of nothing.

I would change my mind a little too much,

for Khaish would tell me to let it rest.

That some bulbs aren't meant to bloom,

Like those stories you loved too much to complete.

I'd coddle him to bed on those sleepless nights,

And wonder what ink you use - to write.

I'd wrestle with you in my own personal war,

between the 'reality' and what Khaish would have me doubt.

I'd keep pictures of you in strange places ,

I'd cling to Decembers and the words you'd scrawl from a million miles away.

"Hello", you'd say, 

"You must be different!"

I'd wonder if I was a part of your soul in another lifetime.

For that was the only explanation to your pull ,even when you'd let me go.

Specially then.

Probably Khaish knows.

For he was your very first child.

The Magic of your words.

Someone I know you couldn't let go.

And so the wait for when you come back for him.

And take from me, what you know to be already yours.

Already Ours.

The Finale.

Fancying the chords that stuck her soul she sat admist darkness and a handful of sunshine,
The little she wanted to suffice her soul with.

Dragons and hungry balloons .
She caressed one and played with the other,
And wondered how much it costs to be the first one to read the thunder.

She walked for miles and miles and Stopped short at a wild fire.
She hung her gloves and took its shelter,
Knowing how much its going to carve the rest of her hunger.

The idea of a better symphony led her out    of the door next morning.
She woke up to a song that was blazed with the irony. 

She rode the horse and kissed a thousand words goodbye. 
And dreamt of the King of the long forgotten island. 

He stands still. He's every where.
Yet he's no where to be found.

Hushing and gushing about his new life ,
The mad king forgot he owed her a pound. 
She watched perplexed and raised a massive toast.
To the only man who lived on that boat.

Is that human or am I differently designed?
I seem to feel a strange pause in the middle of my heart.
It stops and its starts to haunt me again, later at night.  
When the stars keep me company sympathetic  for the night before tonight.

And the one before tonight. 

This is in no particular order , she told  herself.
There's a star that shines tonight .
Moderately pacifying.

I wasn't here to invite your soul.
But I think I have,  regardless .

The tiny blur wants to fade away.
But she holds it a little too strong to let go.
She holds it in the safest place she knows.

The mirror, she said, belongs to me. 
Just  like you. 

That said , she shut  the door and ran away .
Far from the tranquility of silence  .
And everything that comes with a warning of hope.

Beyond you ,Beyond me.

An endless river that sings a song.
You wonder what she wants to say but ,no, she doesn't like to wait.
She hops and hops and suddenly she stops.
She likes to water those tiny grapes.
She could see a kite above.
And that is all she could possibly chase

Tired of the music, she smiles.
And yet again she holds your soul into her tiny hands.
She puts you inside a box.
And wraps you carefully,
with all she's got

You cant breathe, you say.

So she turns you over and makes a candle of you.
She lights you on fire and watches you burn.
She holds you as she waltz's around.
Sings to you one final
time.
Lie down with me, she says.

You are dying ,you say.

She puts you out of your misery,
but she cant lift you anymore.
You've burnt her tiny hands ,you see.
So she caresses you softly as she wraps you around her.
Over and over and over again, till you immerse into her.
You are me and I am you now, you say.
I hope you are doing okay? she smiles
It feels warm, you say.

She bathes in the moonlight.
So you can feel it sink into you.
So it can heal your wounds.
You feel like a dream, she says, as she touches herself.
You smile like I smile, you say.


Do you think you can forgive me?, she says.
You stare at her in the reflection of the moon.
But you don't talk back.
You are too deep.
Way inside.
You cant hear her anymore.

I can feel you breathing out of me,she says,
as she feels you crawling through to her spine.
You sigh for words don't matter anymore,
hoping she 'd feel the grasp.
She's lost in the paradise of her favorite dream.
She likes herself more than she ever did before.
She can feel you rising and falling every time she breathes.

Easy.. Easy, she says.
Do you want to take over completely?

You cant hear her anymore. you say.
I cant hear you either, she says.
In spite of the irony.

You shout harder from inside of her and she can feel you tremble,
but she cant hear you anymore, no.
She calls for you as you immerse deeper and deeper into her soul.
Say something ,she says.
Anything,she says.

You cry  for clarity as the frenzy grows on to you.
She cries in tender pain with the thought of suffocating you.

She looks at the moon for help.
And all she can see is a wonderful halo burning around its vanity.
Perhaps you laugh at the fate of our souls?
Perhaps you  know which one of us would give up?
Perhaps you know how it ends?
Perhaps you care?
Perhaps you don't?
She watches the halo grow brighter, as the music fades away. 

A Beautiful Lie.

Fire continues to ruin the crops,  
as she sits by the farms,
restless and dazed.
Devoid of what comes with feelings.
Those things, she says, cannot touch her,
for she is on a higher ground.
The farm watches the crops turn a shade brighter.
Its red and she likes that colour.

"Kill the mud.. kill the mud,
fire fire," she says.
Running up and down and about she sees ants that want to live.
What a waste of breath ,darlings, she says.
The leader of the ants isn't pleased to see her but what with all the fire,
she is a beautiful creation of the lord almighty,
or so they'd like to believe.

Harder and harder and harder, she laughs,
and in her spirit the silence of the flames.
She turns around to see the disaster ,up close and personal.
With a hard earned sigh she thanks the god of ironies,
For lighting the world on fire.
(And letting her watch from the very first seat.)

Her face seems slightly torched.
The kinda orange you don't want to eat.
Turns brown and then purple it gets,
And every shade the darker, the more tired its owner seems ,
with the weight of all she had seen.

Lie down, 
No. Deeper, she says.
While the fire soaks her skin, she smiles.
It hurts . Why! A wonderful feeling.

The Diary of a magical dream.

Daft and dim ...and like a river by the jungle lay a beautiful black cat. On to her lap she purred and purred like a furious stream.
She was lucid and plain and dark like a cast of waste iron in a delicious blue pond. Her eyes burning with the weight of all she had seen in the little yard ...quite an age ago.
She had a memory and that's the worst it can get. For those that remember...its always a tiny bit more than it seems to be like.
Lucy was Dia's favourite companion. The dreamy black cat in whose eyes she would mirror her soul like a dejected child with no toys of her own but for the silver mirror she stole from her miraculously fashionable doll.
Lucy needs no jam is what she was told. Oh but Lucy needs a lot more than just her jam and it was only fair.

There are things that could only be whispered in the revered silence of those starry nights to one.  Lucy was always that one. And it was only fair.
There were no stories to be told. Not anymore,at least.
There were stories that could be retold  till they seeped into the soul and claimed the reality as its own.
Oh the charm of those realities was far greater than those starry nights and the moonlight that would seep into lucy's slavishly beautiful amber eyes and kill you with all they've got.

Lucy ran about, And jumped around, And lay about on a heap of nothing but a fanciful cotton dragon all day long.
Those were the things you could watch her do . And then there existed an alternate reality.



Its funny how Lucy and her little human companion would complain all day long. So much incessant unwanted humanity to deal with, till that one fateful day they chose to give it a go.
"Oi , I have a name for it, I do" , She jumped furiously about with excitement.
"You humans intrigue me!", said lucy , utterly dis interested, yet eyeing her favourite human with all possible kinds of affection .
Shrugging her usual cold contempt aside, Dia held her tiny hands out to lucy , eyes twinkling .
" You never stop trying, do you?", said lucy as she latched herself onto those tiny hands. She would love to watch Dia roll on her lavish plans , which would more often than not collapse into a bundle of washed up waste.
"Follow me as I lead you out of your misery, No no... our misery" she giggled, always being the hopeless optimist.
"I can only wish your ...erm..our stories are true" Lucy followed her charming delusional bestfriend around , hoping and praying , and more than anything else, believing in the existence of her reality.

The night was cold and insincere , the breeze was mean  and the moon was hardly of help.
"It doesnt matter?" inquired lucy more than sure of what she would be hearing just after.
" It wouldn't have to..." answered Dia in chorus with her favourite  partner.
They walked on for miles at length till the grass grew greener and the skies grew darker.
" We are here."
" I know."
"Where is he?"
"I wish I knew, but oh! " said she.

"Im going in." Lucy was getting impatient.
"No , wait...he'd come. Just you wait." said she.
Lucy shuffled about and cursed and sighed and pawed and waited and sniffed in anger and impatience.
There were no possible signs of his coming. But she waited.
Lucy waited with her.
The trees slowly started to quiver with the tension of patience. The stars were all out in anticipation.
His carpet of mush green grass grew warmer and the skies begun to pour vanilla.

She sat silently amidst the wilderness ,collecting the rain in the curve of her palm, soaking the flavour of lucy's impatience ,letting it in and out of her system as gently as the river by their house.
There was contentment masked in the snores of her companion, knowing that not knowing is at times the best and the worst it can get.
Lucy had seen her lady friend in the light of all possible auras and yet somehow tonight was like no other night.
While she lay purring in her lap, generous with affection saved up only for her, she could see the future . She could see it and feel it and she knew how it would end. And that in the midst of uncertainty there existed reality...the one they were forced to perceive, the one they had been running away from all their lives, the one that would merge with their reality tonight.
It was the night they would burn a hole in the universe and follow the emptiness into the hollow of their souls reaching out to what lay within.
It was the night of war .Their war with time and time would have to loose the battle  against fire, against hope , against peace, against love, against life and against all reason there could be.
Lucy knew what was coming if not who. She could see it in her companion's amber eyes.
Hope was on its way, it was coming to come rescue them from the depths of hell and to bend the time just so She could say Hello!

Lost in her melancholy, lucy was almost too surprised at the tender touch of her companion. Her fingers felt the same and yet the touch was different. Just like her eyes would change colour at the fall of dusk and the rise of dawn so would her touch , for every bend of mind she'd touch lucy in a signature style, so much so that words had become an un necessity and silence was their new personal language.
Lucy knew what her touch had meant tonight.
The war had begun. Night was fighting to stay as the sky poured all possible shades of vanilla in through to the leaves .  The birds had gathered around wondering as if to celebrate or cry.
The rain was making the sky seem shy and the wind seem dry . And somehow the tulips were brighter and the lilies worn out . It could only mean one thing. He was here.


The night turned perfect, dark and blue. Though it was dawn and the birds were almost insanely confused. Time slowed pace and the rain began to freeze as he walked on the path laid out by reeks.
Never to touch and never to feel. He was the sky and the dream that you felt in your teens.
He held out his hand and said ," Lucy, I missed you snotty queen !"
Your chocolaty paws and your hard earned rave. There was always something about your hate!
You never stopped loving the bad and tending hard to the little things sad.
You are a question to ask and you never answer.
You  are a story that never completes .
You are a bad bad ending , you  are a dire need to sleep!
You laugh a little you play some. 
You hurt a lot and you aim some.
You call a little you respond some.
You have a lot you give some.
You dance a little you rest some.
You rhyme a lot  you mean some.
The kind of war you love to win is something too perfect even for your reign.
So here's to you and here's to me and here's to the God of Nothingness .
I told you once , I wont  tell you again- Its a bad waste of feel.

There are stories with a logic and then there is you.
Lucy, you make me wanna kill the rest of your blues.
I like no mercy and I like no flaws , 
I dreamed of you in fairies arm.

There is only so much of you I can take and tonight is a force field that I wasn't willing to partake in.
You turn this around , time is dying, I pray.
I dont understand why I fell for your ...

"I'm a part of hers she stole from herself . I'm a portrait she caressed into paint." said Dia
Her amber eyes shone with the passion of everything she contained and all the rhyme she couldn't possibly match.
The skies cried out in fiery wonder and thunderstorms that meant there was no looking back to a less painful truth, drenched in the aura of a silent past and a future that nobody could foretell, she parted her lips to try and explain the mystery that he always wanted to break in.
You hate her and you love her  and you've always just wanted to let go.
You did and you were gone and you are still just a fraction of her miraculous dream.
There are those words you said  and words she craved into her soul.
Divided herself into two perfect halves and gave you the one you desired more.
You fell for everything you never wanted and everything you think you did and yet somehow you wrote words and more words and words that never meant a fraction of what you had to say.
So you decided to give your heart to me not knowing in the least  that this is what she had desired indeed and while you loved the spirit of me you hated really what she'd given to me.

The night is fading and it would soon fall apart and when it gives way to the first ray of hope, consider the spell to be over, like it never existed on the planet of a million and fourteen magical cloves.

His shadow flickered as if to say goodbye and yet if there was only one  thing they had learnt with time and it was how he did not like goodbyes.
Perhaps this was a spell cast by the more powerful one as its child. Perhaps it had dawned on him after all. 
Perhaps there was no such thing as a spell. Perhaps he choose to love only her better half.
Perhaps perhaps perhaps!


A dedication to someone whose birthday falls on the 14th of November. Happy Birthday D!
May god bless you.

Whisperings

She looks quite awful today.
The bad kinda dark and moody.
She looks like a flower today.
Very young and insincere.
Vain in the worst possible ways,she is, and yet as broken as the crookedest of the mirrors, she is.

She hates you.
No, she really isn't indifferent. She hates you, is what she does.
Carefully and with a lot of effort, she hates you.

She likes to sing , you know.
Very often , that is, and a sad song, you know.
She's not sad, she says.
"No reason to be , you know!"
And yet in the brightest of fire burns her brown eyes.
She's glad you cant see them , you know.

Grey sunshine and a tender fire by the woods.
Off and on and very magnificently she grows into a dire wound.
Only to the sound of the rain she lets you in .
Rests your head onto her heaving bosom and sings to you the lullaby of a far off dream.
She takes your hand and promises you forever and beyond!
She waits for you the next century and a half.

She sits by the window and watches the night turn light blue.
Its only been a quarter, you know!