Brewing over a cup of steaming coffee,
And warm, fluffy, syrupy pancakes,
Our chemistry could be the perfect recipe
For a weekend romantic escapade.

Grand tales of eternal, undying love
I really, can not promise you,
But my giggles around you are real,
The new stride in my step is true!

And every time my eager eyes
Communicate with your smiling ones,
My winter-heart heaves sighs so deep,
I sometimes fear you could hear them!

So, wrapped in mufflers and woolly caps,
Come, laugh along at my red-tipped nose,
And live a short-lived fairy tale with me,
Who knows, we may just outlast the snows!

We dressed her in delicate silk
And gave her glittering jewels to wear,
A crown with rubies on the top,
And flowers for her fragrant hair

We placed wings on her dainty shoulders,
Crystal heels on her slender feet,
We draped her in beauty head to toe,
Gave her the shape of all our fantasies,

So that when we picked at her flawless skin,
And tore off her silken gowns,
When we pulled at her rose-petalled hair
And her lovely stone-studded crown,

When we chased her into darkness,
As she tripped on manacled heels,
When we watched her try to fly but fail
With bejewelled wings that were too heavy,

We could baffle her, confuse her, fool her
Into believing it was not our fault,
For we had revered and worshipped her,
Could the devotee be responsible for her fall?

Oh not at all!

She was too beautiful,
She radiated too much,
She was too pristine,
Easily dirtied on touch,
She was too striking,
She was too bold,
To not be stripped off of all that glitter
And all that shameless gold.

Together, they were like that wiry hair with
A split end she would obsessively try
To peel apart,
Not sure if more harm would be done,
With or without it in her heart.
She knew she could cut it off
and be done with it in a go,
Yet she picked at it,
Deriving strange painful pleasures in tearing
Each other away,
Till he would fall into the abyss of oblivion,
And her, weakened, distorted,
A lone strand would remain,
Never would she be the same again.

I found myself rooting for the tiny ant
The spider was trying to trap in its webbed snare,
No thoughts did I spare before swiping a finger,
and helping it make a dramatic escape

As I looked at the spider, left food-less,
Rearrange itself in its meticulous net,
I wondered at the strangeness of this
Little world of ours, and also its pointlessness

We make it seem so rosy and pretty,
Embellish it with garlands of emotions,
But underneath lies the truth of its existence,
Made up of cruelty, chaos and commotion

The Designer painted it beautifully,
But gave it finer embroideries of pain,
He threw in an entire cosmos together,
And arranged it into a food chain

Compartments and more compartments,
Of colour and country and gender galore,
Hustle and bustle to stay put in a labile balance,
That is forever tipped at the cusp of war

We fool ourselves with the sham that our lives
Depend on friendships and love and such stunts,
When what we are, if we think about it,
Is a part, of one gigantic hunt

A hunt for alimentation,
And monetary satisfaction,
And physical satiation,
Does being conditional deserve glorification?

I wonder if I've turned into a permanent cynic,
It may very well be just a phase,
Though the spider would be cursing me for sure,
Not too romantic it is, sabotaging a prey!

I wonder if the universe listened
To the song of an aching voice,
If a weak heart wrapped in pain
Reached out to its imposing poise.

If it did, oh how I'd beg and plead
for it to tell its stars to re-align
To where I'd left my fairy tale unfinished,
And take me back to those simpler times.

Your breaths were soft murmurs
Muffled within the green whisperings
of the hooded lush covers,
I could catch a glimpse of your
bold cheekbones when light bounced
off them; light that would come and go
of its own accord,
From where and where to, who knew,
We only kept going on,
Deeper and deeper wheels took us,
Guided and misguided by the silences
That guarded the secrets of the forest,
Secrets that weighed down its rustling leaves,
Like they weighed us down everyday,
I would have licked off that bead of sweat
that must be rolling off your cheek right now,
Then why don't you?, a cricket quizzically chirped
Look, even the wilderness is talking to me,
Why don't you!, I wanted to ask,
But I didn't, the maze of tree trunks engulfing us
Tighter by the second,
The jungle looked so benign in the daylight,
Its vibe gentle, its voice tranquil,
Its green, so calm in the sun,
Turned to a bloodthirsty red by the night,
And a million stealthy eyes opened and followed
our drive, laughing at us as we lost track,
You and I,
Speeding away from sanity,
Hurtling away from humanity,
Rocketing away from reality,
No words spoken, but our hearts
pounding in unison as we ran,
In hopes of launching into that dimension
That existed sans sense of material,
Sans sense of reason,
Sans sense of self.
Remember, I've promised you nothing,
Said the jungle elusively,
Winding its curves dangerously steep,
Mysterious even in its time of sleep,
While your foot harshly pushed the pedal,
In the desperate hope that bound us
That if we could wander off track like last time,
and stumble upon that dimension once again,
and strip ourselves naked of the secrets,
and let our truths and our lies be consumed
by the Jungle,
Perhaps, once again,
Like last time,
We could lose it all to find each other.

You are the ending
to my wandering
Poem