Twenty four on Twenty Fourth

Hiding behind the kitchen wall,
A chubby girl eats chocolates;
She sings all day and plays with a Barbie doll,
Her restless legs now refuse to crawl.
Two shiny ponytails swing turn by turn
As her head revolts against boredom
And moves back and forth;
She says annoyingly,
“How long do I wait for March 24?”

The years,
Unable to keep track of untold stories,
Reflected on her face with utmost honesty.
That smile now beguiled some of the shiniest stars in the sky,
The teary eyes plagiarized twinkling happiness
And died every moment in the fire of a new lie.
Her restlessness has succumbed to contemplative rantings,
Yet she has her childish ways of loving herself.
A daring sweetheart with a heart of straw,
She says,
“I turn twenty four and I’m bold.
Even by mistake, don’t call me old.”




P.S.: I just turned Twenty four today and I thought of treating myself with something unique and hence, this poem.

Who are you?

Who are you?
Somebody whom I think I know
Or just an imagination,
Who claims to know me?

Are you that unearthly tuft of grass,
Lying on the ground,
Years ago,
Seemingly real,
When I rewind, it reads,
“Error 404: File not found.”?

Are you an era,
Where parody becomes the new praise,
Clarity defines haze?
A face in the crowd that stands still,
And when I look around,
I fall prey to my demons again.

Who are you?
The face of the one I see,
And the soul of somebody I feel?
Do you know who you are?
Do you belong to this unreal reality?

Liberation

Hey, can you see?
The flowers of my presence,
Confide in your evening.
I try to stand strong,
Why do you shake me up?
Why do you make me sink?
Why do I die broke in your penury?

Hey, look up!
Will you please?
I see strangers,
People like you and me;
We stand quite,
They hit us like nobody.

Hey, don’t you worry!
By mistake,
I won’t tell you to anybody.
A battle you are,
Never to be fought.
I am lost in myself,
Liberated in your thought.

Lost

Flashes of light
Drowning unknown faces;
You cannot see yourself,
How can you see anyone else?
You’re lost
But you don’t know in whose world.

You don’t even know
Whether these flashes of light
That you’re holding on to
Will die out
Or just
Enbalm you for a moment.

A frizzy moment;
Scratching your nerves,
Ticking on your mind,
Preying on your soul,
Fading out in a moment.

Absence

The doleful night begs for a calm closure,
Sleepless eyes hanker for darkness;
Nostalgia screams out in agony,
To get rid of it’s existence.
I wonder,
How strong is my Persistence?

Whenever I look back,
I see your eyes stealing the smile
Of your lips locked up by Denial.
Seconds spin yarns in seconds
To give rise to a number of years;
You stand behind me,
Ageless, flawless and speechless.

You dwell in the intricacies of my silence;
Words flow out of my eyes as droplets of Reminescence.
Trials of forgetting you have
Etched your presence deeply on my mind.
Far away from the ‘Fading Green’,
We will see each other in the woods,
Once again.
And there, you will be mine.

Rumination

I cannot see that hand;
The one that held mine loosely,
Leaving me perplexed.
Observations fall prey to a bizarre delusion,
Truth acts like yesterday’s hallucination.

Truth?
Wrapped in the robes of action,
Your eyes narrate concoctions of passion.
Words entwine subtle gestures,
Obscuring reality from deception.

Disappearing smiles besiege me ad nauseum,
Memories prefer to stay locked up in the Museum.
Ruminations guide me into a land not known;
Dead ends break into labyrinths of life,
To honour the quest of my toes.

I keep on lighting extinguished candles,
Burning my fingers in the fire of woes.
A cicatrix shows up on your fist,
The real gashes are elsewhere,
Hidden behind the masquerade of ‘nowhere’.
See through it, see through it!

The Room

In a Room full of unuttered words,
Monotony creeps in through the window.
Dying notes compose an unfamiliar melancholy,
And the birds begin to crescendo.

Bonfires of wishes glow in the black,
We often get tricked by some qualities that they lack.
The Room is proud of his years,
For it is not easy to hide stories and the stains of tears.

The dusty experience of the paintings,
Portray incidents that often tarnish the Room.
Never do we see him,
Lost in the shadows of gloom.

A framework so strong,
Nobody dares to tamper with his core.
Years pass and decades roll,
He still welcomes his folks with an opened door.