Render this owner weak and senseless,
I've got to dance in the rain and hear the splashing sound of feet in puddles,
Hiding the fact that I can hear your tears trailing down with the pain,
We always were told to count on them,
But who stands here today? With you?
Even shadows leave,they say, but what about shadows of doubt?
Who left them in us?
We built a wireless world of fast comments and quick judgments,
Diminishing etiquettes in a social order,
They claim to understand,
But they only save the self they see,
The mirror that reflects their shadow,
We walk past them everyday,
Shades of individuals that I never would be comfortable around,
We just adapt, we sympathize,
We'll sing an eulogy when you leave.

Those empty bottles don’t know the void they’re filling,

The gyrating lights can’t shine into you,

The booming bass hides your inner screams,

An empty seat amidst a packed scene



Is this the seat you chose to occupy?

Is this the drink you chose to sip on?

Is this the scene you chose to mingle in?

Empty laughter and polite gestures,

Hollow eyes peek from the pits of frustration,

Twisting strings to move puppets,

You thought you were in control,



But darling, look above,

Aren’t we all dancing with strings?



Strings we built with the threads of community,

Sinners and saints dancing in a grey landscape,

Putrid thoughts and noble gestures,

We are all walking with strings attached,

Some of us get tangled in further,

A forest of threads making your next decisions,

Puppet masters sitting on the thrones of tranquility,

Lifestyles you helped establish



Some of us, we snip those strings off,

We act out our own lines,

We dance to a discordant system,

Acting sane within the boundaries,

And writing down lines to break free,

On the long hard road to being yourself,



But how much of you is you?

Check your moves, look up above,

There might still be a string attached.

Pictures and cards, funny where the memories lie but on plastic,

They may sit on plastic but they are imprinted in memory,

Carved majestically like towers of ivory,

Enthroned to reign or dethroned to plague,

They will sit and remain, forever vague.

You build impressions and words in your mind,

Form dialogues and construct a tunnel,

"And that's how I will perceive you",

And that's what you will say day-to-day,

You were raised under the covers of your own,

You knew none of them truly nor deeply,

These empty thought bubbles,

Stop scribbling your lines on them,

Come forth and speak, know the person,

and the thought bubbles will burst with real words,

Ride out that tunnel,

you will see the Sun in a different angle,

and know that She shines for all,

Your world will not crumble,

For the roses, they grow in different parts of the world too,

Stop, smell and smile,

We never need to frown while wearing a crown,

They will rust all the same,

Break down your tunnel visions, we are riding on the same tracks,

We just come from a different station,

And we're all passengers heading our own way,

No harm in checking the scenery on the other side,

Stop, smell and smile.

- ©Vijaya Balan (2015)

Defining the aesthetics of her today,
Eternally grateful for unrestrained emotions,
Emotionally fulfilled by the harbinger of devotions,
No rays shine brighter every day,
First to rejoice and least to be demanding of my day,
You rose and bloomed, defining our actions,
You shed a tear and more, for your determined convictions,
And I’m standing here, grateful every day,
From dawn to dusk, multiple links communicating,
No shades of grey, for matters of the heart,
Patient when I’m not and balancing when I am,
Tranquil and tenacious roots of passion, illuminating,
Unfolding these lines that attempt some sort of art,
For you have been engraved here, where I am.

Vijaya Balan
13.11.14
(c) 2014

Drift away from despair,
Your mind needs repair,
Whether they happen for a reason,
or because it's just the season,
May you find solutions around,
and drift into realities abound

The room stood bare,
And the bed void of a mattress,
Where the rusty fan hanged,
Orange streaks of rust decorated it

Words have no place in this foul air,
The dark figure lay there silently,
The stench of death and misery,
The deafening silence of the night

He was more the merrier yesterday,
When he walked into his usual world,
To play with his roles in this drama of life,
To laugh and smile at the simple joys,
To cry and frown for the downfalls,
Wasn’t he supposed to pick up the pieces?

It hit him like lightning,
Of the past and the future,
Of what was and what was going to be,
Tears formed on the corner of his eyes,
He built his own fortress,
His walls of solitude,
Tuning out from the frequencies of the world
The race to the top no longer concerned him,
The books no longer interested him,
The movies of his stars bored him,
The tunes of his idols seemed soul-less
The phone rang away into the night.

His life flashed by,
The sacrifices and the gifts,
The hellos and the goodbyes,
The world that he ever saw,
Was the world that he got stuck in.

The silence was now all the gold,
The silence was what soothed him now,
The deafening comfortable silence,
The silence that took his life away,
The suicidal silence.

Vijaya Balan (2009)