You know-  I know you
not from somewhere,
no mutual friends,
No I haven’t stalked you
well may be once, but regardless
I just know you better
because the heart there is like the heart here
while all your things are important
you love them all
but the most
you love is not a thing at all


you remain emotional at times
most of the times
ah, the butterfly!
The crazy guy on the street
you sympathize
I know why you hide behind your shades
crazy looks you evade
I do it all the same.



while all you want to be is alone
for no reason; just alone
talk to yourself;
I bet there isn’t anyone that talks to you better
and listens to you better
I know why you smile
wider for lens,
I know why you spend big buck
but save the pence
I know why you have a different FB name
I know you,
because I do it all the same.


I know you because you are no different
all your reasons would be
the same as the reasons for me
wear the craziest clothes
try to stand out in a place
you might look pretty more
with a made up face
I see what you hide,
Beneath the skin of yours
Beneath you mascara lines
The sharp side of you
jailed within the array of your teeth
speaks the same language as the person jailed within mine
Breathes same as the one beneath my skin
And finds solace in paper cuts
I have similar light in my eyes
As I see in yours,
and in the very same way it ignites
everyday it rises and everyday it dies
In every face and in every soul I see, it resides.



You know,  I know you
you’re different you may claim
Yes !
but the heart you have and the one I do
beats all the same
beats all the same.

I have been addicted to things –
to songs, people, voice
to prayers, love, hymns.
And when once in a while
I feel alone, struggling to be strong
I see,
that I have been addicted to things –
to distraction, chatboxes and messages,
it will be okay, alright and don’t be afraid,
and when once in a while
the only voice you hear
is your own heartbeat,
I realize
I have been addicted to things.

World is a mess .
Don't disturb the way of its noise.

Today,
as I read her the unsent letters
I had written to her
She asked me “Why do you love me?”
I said I didn’t know.
“Must have been that every time I’m in your arms,
I feel like home.”

When I was a kid,

I wanted to be a pilot.

I wanted to fly all kinds of planes

Fast plane, big plane, small plane,

I also wanted to fly the jets, and the HUGE cargo planes,

and then the gliders, hot air balloons, from the classic indian the pushpak vimaan to those double winged old airplanes, as seen on encyclopedias !

And ahh..

The fighter jets too

but a fighter jet would not have seats for a family picnic,

so may be I’d fly the passenger jets.

A Boeing 777 perhaps-

but all of this, my air plane fanaticism, was because I had a special place that I wanted to fly.

In one of my dad’s many stories, he once told me about a special plane.

It was called Moment 001- The first and the last of it’s kind.

Now, Moment 001 was the best kind of plane,

It was colored like the rain, it was faster than the human brain

It was lighter than a car, and it’s speed – INSANE !

So fast that not even time could catch up,

Moment 001 was a time machine.

But with wings and blinks and pretty little things.

A machine that goes so fast it can escape the grip of time.

When I was a kid, I could not wait to grow up !

And it was confusing,

The plant that I planted in grade 3 by the time I was in grade 4

was taller than me, and I would be the same.

I wanted to grow older faster,

in order to fly airplanes

and may be- just may be

get my hands on Moment 001.

 

And then it happened,

slowly, but it happened.

Growing up I realized time is a funny thing.

You can’t turn the clock arms around and go back to yesterday,

and then realizing that time and space are both quantities,

and then again some theoretical physicist say-

that time is not really timeless.

 

Basically,

We humans have not figured time out.

No time machines !

Moment 001 was an airplanes that did not exist.

But where science failed me, art found me.

Airplanes were replaced by poetry,

and I was fascinated by words.

I wanted to fly words.

All kinds of words,

Strong words, Science words,

some right words, some wrong words,

used up words, and some left over words,

rap words and pop words-

And it turns out,

They have invented time machine in poetry

A long long time ago

And no, I did not grow up to be a pilot,

but that does not stop me from flying-

my paper planes.

I hate it
when she is with me
holding me,
teasing me
but in her mind it’s you.
She is playing with me,
trying to talk to me
but in her heart, it’s you.
You always come in between us,
She and I.
She doesn’t even look at me
if you don’t remind.
And when you asks
I hate that
She plays me
it’s for you.