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Two glimpses

 Evening Sky at Loyola Men's Hostel, Trivandrum

 Craving

Ongoing pain!

Today is a day of sorrow, since I heard the voice.

Its a long time now, but haven't forgotten its tint.

Soft like a flower, yet cold in its center and sharp on the edges.

It fell on my ears, like rain on a summer's day.

I wonder, why I'm alive! when life is just a dream.

Distance is like a tree: it grows, yet no one sees.

So the tree grew, gave shade for me to rest.

And now, I shed tears. Drops aren't there, but flows.

'Come back, you coward'- I often have to tell my mind.

For it backs off like a dog in an unseen clan.

When back, I'm at home, the real me, the monster.

For it knows someone's sad, knowing well that I'm mad.

Destiny! I never believed in it, even when my pulses proved it.
To be was my destiny? May be! because I never wanted to be!

Shadows grew too long till the black ate the white.

Till the doors of my life were unsafe in the night.

Ah! Yes, the voice. It still is loud like the evening Sun.

As always, it pricks the softest of all flesh- the heart.

When the pain recedes, I realize that voice wasn't real.

Then begins THE pain, for what's lost causes greater pain!

Conversation

.

Friend 1: ഒത്തിരി അകലെ നീറുന്ന മനസും കത്തുന്ന വികാരങ്ങളും ഉള്ള ഒരു മനുഷ്യന്‍ എന്നെ കാത്ത് ഒറ്റയ്ക്ക് ഇരിക്കുന്നു എന്നാ ചിന്ത എന്നെ ജീവനോടെ കൊല്ലുന്നു... ഒരുപക്ഷേ എനിക്കുള്ള നൊമ്പരം അങ്ങും കാണും- പതിന്മടങ്ങായി... ഇത്തരം നിമിഷങ്ങളില്‍ എനിക്ക് ജീവന്ക്കളും ഇഷ്ടം ഇരുട്ടിനെയാണ്.. ഒന്നും കാണാന്‍ കഴിയാത്ത ഇരുട്ട്...

Friend 2: at least u have someone waiting...

Friend 1: :-(  And that what kills me! Grills me alive! Everything beautiful in this world makes me smile and then pause.. And then my smile turns pale.. In some unknown emotion, I turn away from what makes me sing... It stings! 

Friend 2: put that up in ur blog....

Friend 1: Impossible... She reads my blog! Wont do anything that would possibly hurt her

Friend 1: Because i have hurt enough

Friend 2: How do u manage?

Friend 1: :-) Good question. But the fact is I DON'T manage it! If I am the person you see, its her loving generosity.. Nothing else.. How can I manage? There is no management in love as far as I know.. There are no explanations, no reasons, no fumbling.. I silently accepted... Cruelly accepted...

Friend 2: Shut up!!!! You make me morose!

Friend 1: Sorry sorry sorry sorry. (NB: I had to check the meaning of morose in dictionary :-P). Hope you 'goodnighted'. So good night.

A Story from Nowhere

I was walking the streets yesterday. The slight drizzle and light reddish tint on the sky released a romantic aroma into the noise of the street. ‘Quite romantic’ I thought to myself humming my favourite love song. Everything around seemed listening to my hum. Even taxi cars moved according to the rhythm of my song. I could see smiles on the faces near me- naughty! Just then, wind blew, whispering secrets of hidden love in the ears of those who cared to listen.

Round the corner, I saw a little kitten walking up straight to me. Perfect! To top my feeling, this cute little kitten has now appeared from nowhere. It made sense to me to listen to nature - nature always speaks for one’s heart!

Wow! It is walking towards me. I can’t believe it is walking. Look at its stride- royal, yet sweet and elegant. White like snow, its face is so divine. I just stood there looking at the cutest cat ever. The din and bustle of the street seemed non-existent. I felt focused and streamlined.

Then it happened. Out of nowhere, like a monstrous devil, a huge trailer lorry at roaring speed came dashing at the poor little kitten. Helpless, it tried to evade the deadly host of black wheels of the lorry, but in vain. Struck by the urgency of the moment, but frozen by the stench of reality, I remained motionless. The kitten had already been gone- gone into the saddest pages of my memories. Suddenly everything looked bloody red.

The drizzle continued, accompanied by red tinted sky and soft breeze. But nature screamed  quite another story now- nature always speaks for one’s heart. 

It occurred to me, that a story was born. 

Yes, one story is born, when another ends!