Tuesday 24 September 2013

Those Unseen Sounds of the Night


A yellow leaf falls quietly to the ground
Nothing stirs, nothing frowns
Black holes yawn at drowsy cats
Another battle, another night
For hearts have stopped before
Muffled like drums on weeping nights
A thud somewhere, a low groan
Passed off as one of those unseen sounds of the night.

Trees have fallen before
Roots trenched firmly underground
Come gravedigger
Pull me out.

Here lies a bundle tightly curled
The softest wind will wake him, tread light
Black holes yawn at drowsy cats
Morning cowers from the blinding night
For hearts have stopped before
Muffled like drums on weeping nights
A thud somewhere, a low groan
Passed off as one of those unseen sounds of the night.

I watched as the minute hand moved
And then the hour
I watched as our faces glowed in the dark.

Let the sleeping lie
At least they breathe
At least they sigh
Petals form roses
I cannot get them right
My fingers slip off buttery window panes
The world condenses on our hour glass
I wake him with a whisper
And still he lies
Standing by a leaning wall
Eyes close all thought of him
For  hearts have stopped before
Muffled like drums on weeping nights
A thud somewhere, a low groan
Passed off as one of those unseen sounds of the night.

We whizzed past dreams
And lowly sights
Wiping sleep from cloudy eyes
I cannot lose what I cannot hold
I cannot have a falling star
But  hearts have stopped before
Muffled like drums on weeping nights
A thud somewhere, a low groan
Passed off as one of those unseen sounds of the night.

Thursday 12 September 2013

Growing Up

The sky always fascinated me. When an airplane cut across the sky, all the children would run after it, shouting and waving. But that had never been what interested me. I always looked beyond those airplanes, deep into the sky, at the stars that never failed to twinkle back at me, reciprocating the same unconditional love that I had for them.
Every evening I went to the market with my parents on either side of me. I never looked at the houses towering over me or the people who exchanged pleasant greetings with my parents nor did I ever see where I was going. I simply held my parents' hands and trusted them to take me with them wherever they were going. And all the while I had my eyes fixed heavenwards, watching the moon teasing me from behind little puffs of clouds.
At night, I would lie next to my father on the little cot out on the terrace. He would tell me to count the stars and obediently I would start to count until his breath came gently and his lips twitched along with his moustache and I would put my head on his stomache and listen to the slight rumbling noises in there and all the while I would keep counting. I was afraid I would have to go back indoors once I finished counting. I was afraid I would run out of stars to count. So I would count the same stars again and again until I fell asleep right there, cuddled next to my father.
Today, when I walk down the road, there is no hand for me to hold. I can no longer trust somebody else to take me along, and so I stumble along by myself. But even now, sometimes when I stand by myself at night, I count the stars. I continue to count the same stars again and again and again just so I don't have to go back inside.

Monday 9 September 2013

Big Loves and Small

My love sits in a corner of a brightly lit room. Hugging her knees she rocks herself to sleep. Her frame is small and frail and she cowers from the light. There are bigger, greater loves than hers they tell her and she shrinks further into the background merging with the soft cream and peach of the ideal lover's den. If it be small, is it not love? How can she lift her chin and face your love if you tell her she doesn't exist, if you tell her she is not enough? It has been a while since she stopped believing in herself. It's been a while since she could speak or stand. Take her in your arms when you have time. She grows weak and flutters helplessly with every harsh wind that blows. Hold her and gently press your lips on hers. For even love needs loving sometimes.