In Aspiration…

There are no questions left,
nor any answers left to be sealed.
Its just me ,
in the midst of that vast white space,
hiding behind  the infinity.
I call out in an unknown voice and wait for the echo
to pierce through my senses,
to mute my voice
and to be called by no name. 
There are no lines left to be read,
no words for my blank white sheet.
Its just me,
playing with the pile of meanings – intangibly spread in the air.
I feel them breathe,  smell their space  and
know why they belong to me.

Technorati Tags: Infinity,white,senses,nameless,words

Not All is Love

He saw something in her eyes which was alien. It was like a faint grey  that had showed up in those beautiful eyes. She wasn’t quite herself – uneasy and lost.He took her hand and waited for her to look up at him with tears rolling down her cheeks. “I am sorry” were all the words she spared.

She saw  reflection of her own eyes in his' and  recalled how she had fallen for his ‘talkative eyes’. Over the past season of troubled waters he had subtly and sensitively done his best to bridge the gulf but she had never let the water calm. Now submerged in the same flood she groped for the bridge, for the hand in help she had persistently refused. He would understand   -  was all she knew and could think of at the moment.

"In spite of all differences I have never, never wanted to be... I am sorry, I am really sorry."

All these months he had patiently cared for her silence and had never forced her into words. He had  faith in his love and waited for the wall to crumble but now the wall had come crashing on him.  Shrinking back to his own self, he looked at the truth of not being able to revert what has happened.She had been unfaithful but not willingly perhaps, it could have been her weakness but not her deliberate will. And that was the worst of it all, he had always made such earnest efforts to understand her that it came naturally to him. He could not bear to be sympathetic to her weaknesses at a time he least wanted to be reasonable. How could he be mad at her even after knowing the loneliness that gripped her over the years , the void that neither of the two could fill, the void that had almost become a part of them and had now taken a different meaning and echoed various sounds.

Though throughout the period of differences she had blamed him for causing her pain ,it was he who suffered the agony of being in love of her,of being blamed by her and of believing in the better and happier morrow. Pain for him was locked up within and cloaked with hope but not liberated by it.

The sudden downpour on the agony he had nurtured with such care, dissipated it in a cruel coldness that almost burned the inner walls of his self. He saw the tears ceaselessly and pleadingly trickling down her cheeks and it irritated his bruises further. The ire cooled and in no time left him with bruises and blisters all over.It could not cool and push him to suffocation. It could not…

He pressed her hand ,tears stopped and in her eyes he saw the grey die for the blue.He saw pain metamorphose into hope in her eyes and he felt himself disintegrating into meaningless nothings.

 He slighted her head that rested on his shoulder and left her hand, took his eyes away from her and walked towards the door. The sudden coldness was unfamiliar and knocked at her walls within. She knew what to make out of it but shrunk from facing it.

He opened the door and walked out, leaving her with a parting glance and in that glance was captured the colour of dusk  in her eyes and a profound sense of equality.

Technorati Tags: love,togetherness,pain and equality.

In Love of that Momemnt and Eternity ...

The pink of the petals untarnished beyond bloom

the fragrance rising  to  touch the end to be,

the love of the plant and the call of the soil,

the wither of the petal and the death of the flower.

No urns left,no ashes remain

the flower bloomed and withered never to be.

I watch and wonder - can man not thus cease to be,

in such calm that he knew not what pain had been to

him.

And die in love and cherish of that one moment and

eternity.

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Being Born

It was one of those days when I was so happy being myself, my own little world defined so much to me that I hardly looked beyond to search for something which could redefine or add meaning to my life. I was myself. You would probably interpret it reader, as a natural consequence of my becoming pregnant with a child; this sudden revelation of the motherhood inherent quenched the thirst of exploring in and out. Well, if you think so I shall not deny. I was engrossed in knowing new aspects of myself. At times I would be amazed to see that I was so much capable of caring for my own self and later realized that it was all for the baby I was carrying.

This flexibility of my child’s identity and mine was wonderful, it would merge into one and the next moment would split into two. So inexpressible it was to see the identities play within me! Can I ever define my joy? Perhaps not. Then one day the identities split into two forever, what had been lighting lamps within me was there radiating in my arms. I kissed him and felt my warm lips touching my own forehead. I smiled; I had got into the habit of feeling him within. He lay there quietly by my side, a smile on his face would suddenly dissipate into a frown and then would break into a cry and I read the expressions on his face as I read a book.

It was then, when I was doting on him, I heard a shrill cry break out in a thunderous shriek, I held him close to my heart. He was still asleep, unperturbed by the sound. The shriek did not end, someone was howling ceaselessly. A mother had lost her month old infant, the nurse told me. Tears overstepped my eyes imperceptibly, I had never seen how it is when a life disintegrates into nothing and all that one knows as a being flies off without bidding a farewell. Yet I shivered and could no longer hold my child in my arms. His poised sleeping face was too large for me to bear upon my chest. I cried and knew that the next moment I could laugh.