Wondered she,
what should I be?
a firework,
a book,
a palm tree?
if only
it were up to us
to decide
which bus
would we ever
fuck up?
or
run out of luck?
throwing caution
to the breeze
she knew
she had
the seas
two guesses
what she chose
sun,
sand,
shells,
that’s how
she goes.
Dhruv and I are typical siblings.
He stabbed me once in my thigh with a compass.
I had socked him hard and had a fistful of his hair in my hand.
Another time, he randomly went and bought me the PS2 because I had just discovered Tekken.
Then beat me at all the games.
He gives me a 100 bucks at every rakshabandhan.
He is an airline pilot.
He’s never missed any important day of my life.
And if I ever ask him how I’m looking after a haircut or trying out a new dress he mostly says “like an asshole.”
He will drive me around everywhere if I don’t have my car, but will throw me out of his car if I touch his stereo system.
I asked him to write me something for my poetry project about 6 months ago, and last week I got an email from him saying – ‘This is my favourite noem….. note+poem….. getit?’
And this is what he wrote
Another week
Another 7 days
Is it gonna be worse…will it be better…will it be the best
Some are gonna cry…some are gonna smile…some will just be
As for me…ill tell you about me next week
Death will come for some…life will be given to some
Some will turn older…no ones turning younger
Spirits will fly…souls will hide
Emotions will burst like fireworks on the 4th of July
Hearts will be born…hearts will be broken
Hearts will be mended…hearts will be murdered
Your life will go on…maybe it wont
It wont matter to a major part of the world
Some will declare bankruptcy…others will strike gold
Some will lose their lives…others will win the lottery
Your best friend might get married…your parents might get a divorce
Your neighbor might buy a new car…yours might get stolen
People might get hired…people will be fired
Success might be achieved…technology will advance
Awards might be presented…suicides will occur
Geography will be visited…history will be burnt
Species will deplete…politicians will reap
Wild life will be tamed…mankind will go wild
Oceans will dry…cars will be washed
People will starve…you will waste food
We will waste paper…trees will be cut
Alcohol will be consumed…riots will take place
Tobacco will be consumed…lungs will wither
Wars will be fought…widows will be born
You might cease to exist…It will not make a difference to the planet
Here’s a line from my favourite Neruda poem :
‘I do not love you as if you were Salt Rose, or Topaz,
Or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
In secret, between the shadow and the soul.’
This is romance at its best…. Oozing sensuality…
Now a little about Malini, because the poetry in today’s post belongs to her.
I’m certain Malini is some parts alien. And I mean this in the best way possible. She gets more done in one day than MacGyver. And she does it all with a smile which can light up any room. If there’s any day that I’m feeling lazy and feel like procrastinating stuff I ask myself that one question which turns my day around – ‘What Would Malini Do?’
I asked her to send me something she had written and this is what I got….
A single ray of sunlight, 
For a thousand memories of pain.
A single happy face,
For a million filled with disdain.
We meant to last forever,
But forever never came.
When miracles cease to happen,
The truth will soon become plain.
No candle lasts forever,
Only memories of the flame.
I love these ten lines….
Last year I got obsessed by Pablo Neruda. I would read him as often as I could. I love how his words melt and form a stream of my own thoughts, how every poem seems…. mine. That’s the beauty of poetry. It may come across as so personal yet so many people, across cultures, across time, ‘get it’.
Since I was being so manic about poetry, I decided that I would collect verse and prose from people I know and put it up …. for me, for you… Anyone who’s ever written anything is welcome to send in your poetry/story.
I asked Steve to write me a poem. He didn’t. He said he had something from years ago which he wanted to send me…..
Now here’s a little story about Steve.
I went through a phase in my life where I had pretty much forgotten how to sleep. It became my worst enemy and no matter what I did, I just wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. Why was it so difficult? I had no idea. But I had to fix it…. somehow.. anyhow. So I tried, I tried really hard and after a while it sort of, sauntered back into my life, threatening to leave if I misbehaved.
But the truth is, I really learnt how to sleep well only once I met Steve. I don’t know if he balanced energies, bringing in some calm with a sprinkle of nice or whether it was just time for me to have won the battle. That would just be a harsh personal triumph. And I don’t care much for personal triumph….. romance on the other hand….
Here’s what he sent me…
Cascade you with coffin flowers,
Boxes of tooth decay
Perhaps flickering stone showers?
Forget all! Unadulterated! Sterile! Sanitary!
The entire earth in line to be yours
Lunar pieces, two stars free!
Would you prefer apples, gold to the core?
No chance to purchase liberated purity.
Inked words keep aside artificial pledges
And guarantee a gory heart, fantastic soul.
Auburn kisses with gift-wrapped lips.
“Affection is not bargained”, I’ve been told.
Go now! Encompassed in a souvenir tomb
Beg for greedy worms devouring your artificial womb
You know what makes my heart skip a beat? ‘The entire Earth in line to be yours, Lunar pieces, two stars free’. In a poem so lonely, dark & deep, he makes it shine for just the right amount of time, smack in the middle, when you least expect it.
