Mama told me to keep her close.
Certainty provides clarity.

So I give her my hand,
And in barter, I quest a true friend.

I have a doubt, I turn to Certainty,
But am met with the silent treatment.

I press further,
Only to be reduced to resentment.

I wonder. How can this be?
Desertion in times of desperation?

Certainty, existing and non existing, remains an illusion.
A body, that will never affirm any supposition.

There are many of us
Yet few like us
Different tho we might be
Least we know our difference together

I felt alone
And you extended your solace
A comforting refuge
In fight and in counsel

Now my days fall silent
And I seek your voice
Have you indulging my quirks
Or chiding my folly

Try as I might
To fill this void
Words are spoken
Yet silence persists

Wherever you are
I miss you my friend
Wherever you are
You are but far

If your gaze was ink
What stories — would it write
And if I should read those words
How then — should I read them right

Comfort is nice but mundane bores
I must explore the wonders of sea
My thoughts take wings, zest soars
I set sail on my journey with glee

A crushing wave, a sudden slip
Yanking my board from under my feet
Hither tither I scramble for a grip
Boy this feels, anything but sweet

Not what I thought - no easy play
Things just aren't going my way
I look for reason, reason flees
Reason tells me meaning you’ll see

Tired of evil, tired of this ploy
I loosen my grip, I free control
In this moment, I now enjoy
The ebb and flow of the larger whole

A storm revisits, I know the drill
I'm tossed again in life's caprice
I align my will with divine will
And now I sail the winds with ease

She seems pretty queer
Yes she does
Something odd
Something peculiar

Is it in her insouciance
Is it in her audacity
Is it in her pirouettes
Spun with such vivacity

Is it in her defiance
Is it in her nonrepentance
Is it in her reveling so free
A form full of glee

Sometimes impetuous
All times ingenuous
Aflame with passion
An immersive intoxication

Cracking down on this mystery
A perplexing dichotomy
Let's remove the misfitting pieces
In sync with commonplace notions

Alas what dismantling of a girl
at peace with her pieces
What uprooting of a girl
at home in her body

the wipers are tired
the screen a blur
my mind pleads for rest
for in judgement I err

In love we are bound,
yet in love we are free.
Bound to one,
bound to circumstance.
While bestowing upon us
the spiritual freedom,
in hardship and adversity,
to escape our current existence
into a world that knows only beauty,
comfort and belonging.
Giving us strength,
giving us meaning

I look out in wonder as my story unfolds
However I try, I fit no mold

I try to conform, only to witness a storm
So great a weight, on so small a form

I keep true to self and let belief ensue
For why should conformities dull my hue

The questions afloat, the answers unfound
They say when one is lost, one is found

You often spoke of frameworks as guiding principles at all phases of life.
You spoke of structures, you spoke of lines..

Lines that when crossed with mischief, called for admonishment.
Lines you drew on our exercise books to ensure homework was complete.
Lines you made so clear guarding your babies from outside harm.
Lines that parallel the lives of all mothers.

Today as I look at you, I see those lines etched deep in tireless perseverance; a reminder of your experiences.
Those lines as you age ever so gracefully, are exactly what makes you all the more so beautiful.

the pangs dig deep
its been harder to sleep
this hunger we fight
with all our might
gone are our meals
but not our will
each breath we take
a vision we create
this fight's not done
for the power of one
the givers will give
the believers will live
the meals will arrive
and again we'll thrive
to faith we succumb
with prayer in this slum
for when faith is lost
the fight is lost
and when love is lost
all is lost

Particles collate, clouds gather
An uprising it seems, stronger together
Resolute it stands, till it holds no further
As any body collapses, under mounting pressure

Little drops to torrential downpour
The inconvenience it brings, just what we abhor
Struggle we must with virtuous patience
If we are to enjoy befallen petrichor

Trees are fed, flowers bloom
From this garden, brilliance loom
As all things present, this too is transient
A reality so poignant, about an existence impermanent

Leaves frail, flowers wither
Consumed by soil from which it consumed
No such thing as eternal bliss
Such are the laws of our symbiosis

We arrive from dust and depart as stench
A reality from which, we shouldn't flinch
As we gaze into a horizon so eternal
All we have, are moments so ephemeral

The moon has its ways of inspiring awe,
Taking on different forms, challenging static notions of identity—
And when it chooses to shine bright, it affirms it has never been any less a whole—

Most heavenly of places, this world now
Of endless beauties, a sight that wows
They're statuesque and wax-like, but hey don't fret
No wrinkles to combat, nor ripples of fat

Gazing into their arresting green eyes
That of the rabbit's, resemblance lies
Uncanny it is, this puzzling scene
Manufactured they are, from the same jellyfish gene

And since its time to seek paradise,
My wandering hands caress the prize
To search for weakness, now I must
No amount of fondling, stirs any lust

I've come so far, and this is what perfection costs?
The smoothest of skin, has left all thumbprints lost

We wake at sunlight and nestle in at moonlight,
Stretching the day with our toughest fight.

Hour by hour, we hustle for power,
Dull today, tomorrow it'll shower.

Hold back on decision, for you risk derision,
Venture not, its not your mission.

No not this ticket, its too expensive,
No not that man, he will leave you pensive.

Remember those opportunities you wanted to unlock,
Well its just too late, the coffin mocks..

Peace —
A feeling
A state of being
Of being in the present
With a deep sense of calm
That comes from — knowing

The constant vacillation around decisions that bind
The eternal struggle between heart and mind
Choose your virtues, and let them serve you
They may not confine you, but they will define you

Rise above in courage and faith
Stand your ground, bite no bait
A circle smaller, but what does it matter
True friends you acquire, unhand the admirer

You'd do away with all things shallow
If you are to rest easy on your pillow
The sun will shine bright in the morrow
And you'd rise again to be your hero

Let it flow,
For the uprooting of any deeply seated sediment

Let it flow,
For there must be nourishment

Let if flow,
The salty cascade knows its own course

Let it flow,
If you have to rid any remorse

There she stood
Tall and assured
Charming but not boastful --

An energizing silence
A magnetic pull, all-knowing
Drawing me closer --

A scar I notice
A defect somewhat
An impurity they say --

She cares not to hide it
She basks in it
Pride in memory --

I come to hold her in esteem
Sets her apart
A quiet confidence --

A connection inimitable
I fondly remember
And she revels in remembrance --

Blue ink was no friend
Blue ink was the most boring plan
For the trees and hills Suzy ran
When Mama came with a stick in her hand

For months and years Suzy despaired
This forced acquaintance she wished to be spared
This Hulk of a character Mama'd personify
This waste of time, she knew not why

I just wanna be free, Suzy lamented
An uproarious laughter, with which she was greeted
Why do you act all so tormented, said this voice
Without blue ink, you will be mistreated

How do you carve a path of your own
How do you enforce a right you wouldn't have known
How do you right a wrong you don't condone
How do you condone life when left alone

To the books and pages Suzy ran
Devouring much material in the given span
In a solid colour, she saw a world of wonder
In its simple strokes, there was no more to be coaxed

In happiness and despair, Suzy was elevated
In health and sickness, she knew to be liberated
In company and solitude, Suzy was educated
In wealth and poverty, she knew she had profited

Blue ink had granted her the highest of privileges
For to live well, is to live with choice
A coveted privilege, with which we rejoice

It stifles more than stimulates,
Imprisons more than liberates,
Inhibits more than invigorates,
So why let it dominate..

Day by day I fritter away
Observing decorum as best I may
Meet me as you meet — reserved somebody
Leave me as you leave — dull nobody

Dreary, weary, listless, spiritless
A resting spirit clamours to emerge
Unguided, wild, free and seeking
Boldly defying reserved somebody

But how, just how do I unleash this defiant spirit
For it is to cross all conceivable limits
Oh but a mask, of course a mask!
The perfect accessory for this task!

Careless of propriety
Boastful of daring
Acting against my will
Or in tandem with it?

This mask — just now I can't discern
Ponder I do with great concern
Does it shield my identity
Or render truth to it?

So now just what fun in masks
One may ponderously ask

Masks, bring to life fantasy
Fantasy, a realm of our reality
Reality, wherein lies multiplicity
Multiplicity, within each individuality

The whistle sounded, the train chugged
The journey began as many unplugged
Fates were rested on solid tracks
Scraps of iron responsible for their backs

Compartmentalised boxes carried varying stories
Some call it a divide, others settle for categories
Some boxes resplendent with ornaments and gilding
Others modest with unembellished finishings

Whatever the setting, the views didn't discriminate
One only had to look out if one had to rejuvenate
The landscapes never spoke, but the passengers listened
As if nature's lyrics were intently written

Each swayed by the drama of their lives
On a journey assumed with predestined stops
No one saw an impending halt
On unfinished tracks and an unexpected drop

If unspoken words were to be exchanged,
What would they have been
If unasked questions were to be answered,
Would they have freed one from within

And if stories are what our lives are
To live is to dance to the narrator’s tune

Some stories go hand in hand
Some stories go thither in pursuit of another

Sometimes we narrate our chapters
Sometimes our chapters narrate themselves

In stories we seek reason
In reason we seek conclusion

But if the narrator’s narration does not make sense
The actors cope thru a different lens