You fiddle with my heart
But the music is not heard of
Its the cry of the night
Of the waning moon
The scream of the tides
Of the roaring seas
The rumble in the sky
Of the burning stars
The whistle of the wind
Scrubbing the dandelions
Loud yet unheard.
Category: Her
ஆசை
உன் ஆழ்ந்த சிந்தனைகளில் மூழ்கி
அதில் ஒளிர்க்கும் முத்தை தேடிடவேண்டும்.
உன் எரிக்கும் கோபத்தில் கரிந்து
அதை கலைக்கும் வைரம் ஆகிடவேண்டும்
உன் மௌனத்தை கலைக்கும் சிரிப்பை
நானே வித்திடவேண்டும்
உன் கண்கள் கரையும் துளிகளை
இருகரத்தால் ஏந்திடவேண்டும்
உனை வர்ணிக்க ஓர் நாளாவது
நான் கவியாகிடவேண்டும்
அதை நீ பாடும் பொழுதினில்
நான் தமிழாகிடவேண்டும்
நரைகூடி நடைபழக கடற்கரை மனலில்
நாம் தத்தி தடுமாறி கரம்தழுவ
ஒருபோல் எண்ணங்கொண்டு இன்றை
இதை எண்ணி நகைத்திடவேண்டும்
Conversations with her
“So whom do you talk to in all these conversation that you have while you are writing this?”
“You, of course, who else is here?”
“But who am I? Just a pigment of your imagination. A self satiating bot who would respond to your thoughts they way you want to!?”
“No, you are a whole person. As alive as any person walking around in their flesh”
“But I don’t have flesh or blood. I don’t exist beyond this conversation. One time I’m in your mind and the next I’m in some random persons mind as a totally different person as they read it. I’m suddenly their idea of a person or rarely I’m just a person that you picture in your crazy head. But I’m seldom complete. I don’t embody anyone. I’m just a few pieces of words stitched together. Thanks to you, I’m mostly meaningless”
“No, you are not. You are meaningful to me. And you mean a lot to me. I don’t know about the reader, but I do know that you exist within me. May be not a entity on your own but you do exist all the time. You should realise that”
“But what is the need for me? Who am I to you? Just a picture of person you like to picture!? May be I’m here till that moment you meet this person and have this conversation with her.”
“You are that person. The one I want to meet. You are not a different person after I meet that one. You don’t go extinct once I meet her. Nor do you come alive when that person moves on. You exist all the time, in me, as a whole person, within me. You are the girl that resides in my heart. You don’t fulfill my needs. I try to meet your demands. You don’t set a bar for a person, an idol I seek. You are that person with their mistakes, imperfect. I hope like as you exist within me, somewhere I exist in someone’s heart. Like I’m part of that conscience or soul, and more of a body here. And may be one day we connect and become each other within each other. Like a subset within a set that is still overlapped. It doesn’t matter if we connect within our lifetime. I’m more than happy to have you within me. And I can only hope she’ll too.”
Afterthoughts
We emote our feelings over and over to the point it becomes numb. Joy or sorrow, we are enthralled by the rush the first time it hits you, and then we try to relive that very moment again and again, in a loop. We finally end up feeling nothing at all, almost as if that’s how we are supposed to feel. Even I got scared that this has become a routine, I could feel the numbness breathing down my neck. Tying me into one end and coiling itself to launch me into the space, looping the routine.
I could feel how purposeless that would be, like life is not purposeless enough. You stay in order like the bottled juices on a counter of a shopping mall. All in order like they have somehow figured out entropy. Every one of them has a date set to them. A day where they wouldn’t be of any use to anyone. And I imagine how that night would be? Would they all just realise at some point the emptiness of their purpose and as it hits midnight, they would just jump off the counter one by one? Just to clear up the space they have been occupying. It makes me all so sad. Now let’s go save those fuckers before they jump off that cliff.
Seaing life.
As he drowned in the sea, the memories left him slowly, like the little pockets of air that escaped his body and popped as they hit the air.
He could now understand the beaching of the whales. Why would an intelligent being of the seas would seek land and crash ashore, claiming the only possibility of death? Even though he doesn’t have an answer, he could understand the pain that would cause it. Same as he has this urge to drown in this sea.
As he discovered the depths of the ocean, the cloak of the water above blocked even the little ray of hope from getting to him, plunging him slowly into darkness. The salty water rushed into his lungs and started engulfing the life from within. He just wanted to feel something. The numbness of the real world had overtook his senses and transformed him into one in the flock, putting him in a queue to slow death. He couldn’t take it anymore, he just wanted to feel a little bit of anything, to feel alive. Even if it was pain, he was fine with it. But this amount of pain, he was not ready for it. There were no regrets though, it was his decision.
It got too dark to see himself as he sank into the bottom. He needed to see himself to make sure he’s still there and not dissolved into the darkness around. He wasn’t even quite sure of his physical presence and wondered if he was dead already in the waters. Just to make sure he took the only source of light he had, his burning heart, in his own hands, carving his body. He held his fiery red heart out in his hands with the remote hope of dispersing the darkness around. But the water seeped into it, putting the flame out tardily. He watched his heart slowly pump in and pump out the saline water through the arteries and veins. As the water consumed every space within him the last pocket of air left his body and along with it escaped a bit of his burning heart, like a red spark. The tiny bubble traveled up and surfaced and popped as it saw the sky. And at that instant, a moment between life and death, he disappeared without a trace.
The ocean was left unperturbed.
Conversations with her
“What do you see in her?”
“I don’t see her. I literally haven’t. At least in a while. But even metaphorically I don’t see her. I listen to her. I close my eyes and read through her. I imagine her voice with a million possibilities and when it didn’t synch with what I heard, I cursed myself for not listening properly.”
“But what does the voice got to do with you listening, what crap are you talking about?”
“See, you walk through the forest..”
“You mean you walk through the forest!?”
“No, I mean you. You embody yourself and put yourself in person on some setting such as a forest”
“OK”
“Now what do you see?”
“A way”
“It’s a fucking forest, how do you see a way?”
“But you asked me what I saw, and that’s what i see.. if I should see something in particular tell me then, I’ll go with it”
“Fuck that!”
“No, go on. I’m in the forest”
“You know what, it was much easier when we didn’t know each other that much”
Thoughts on her
Thought may be I should write. Or may be I shouldn’t. The thoughts were haunting me as memories now, taking up ploys and plots to crumble me to bits with the gloom reality of the ordeals to follow this. This here, me dragging my body to the grave pit a day after another in no hurry. May be I’m in a hurry or I tell myself otherwise. I look around, not just me. Everybody’s dragging their baggage, themselves, along the edge of the world. Why is the world spinning? Who spun it atop this space hanging in silk spun off gravity? Among the myriad possibilities of the lifeless stardust, you end up knocking on her doorstep. She refuses to answer to the stranger that comes knocking that day. She enquired though and spoke momentarily to know what I was selling. I lied I wasn’t selling anything while I was almost begging for her to take my soul in return for nothing. Nothing was the payment I expected. Acceptance is much more enjoyable than trade. Only I had to leave with nothing, for she had nothing to give me nor did have nothing reasonable to take up on my offer to take up my soul. So I left with nothing, nothing on my soul. No returns. Just the burden I drag to my pit. Doors I do not seek any. For the sweat broke on knocking will soften the journey as I plough for the seeds to break through. Point is not to be meaningful. Point is to be.
Conversations with her
“What is bothering you so much?”
“You. Your mere existence. The fact that you exist like this shining bright orb in the sky but only a billion miles away. Light years ahead of me and away from me. Eternally moving. Forever graciously. And the only way I could reach you is to lose all that matters and move ahead in light speed. But that won’t be enough. May be I should move faster than light and turn around time and find a better spot in the time-space where we would at least be in proximity of physical reach within our lifetime. Else I could also look for leakage in the continuum and try and slip into some dark spot to find you in some other plane of existence beyond our own.”
“But why!?”
“How would I know? It’s gravity. Maybe. Mere laws of attraction, trying to pull the whole world together. An invisible cloak stitching us into this fabric of existence. Keeping us together and yet far apart. Why would the apple fall from the tree? And not drift and fall far away? I’m no Newton but I’ll like to find out why. Just so that I could sleep in peace and for the love of humanity and bitter curiosity.”
“What’s in it for me then?”
“Pain. As a reminder of your mortal existence. The type you get used to and miss it when it’s gone. The type that seems tough at first and turns pleasurable. Pleasure. If you let it in. And more of it, if you let it devour you. May be a mix of both. But that’s life isn’t it. May be we can experience it in a larger scale. If at all I survive your scorching temperatures and manage to revolve around you, so I could sustain. Else I’m gonna crash and sink and dissolve into the ether.”
Craving for a cave
I would like to find a cave that I could crawl into. I would need someone’s help to shut it for me. I wouldn’t want anything to carry with me. I’m not that hungry. I have had enough food to sustain the rest of my life. I’m not thirsty either. I have had enough water to cleanse my body. I wouldn’t want to waste a drop anymore. Clothes won’t be necessary either. This one I’m wearing now won’t need a change. I don’t need something to read. The things I have read, I haven’t processed them yet. I’m sure it’s going to take me more than this lifetime to do so. I don’t need the light. I have learned to embrace the darkness and my vision has adjusted to it. I don’t think I would have the need to see anything. Once I climb in and lie down on a comfortable ground, I’m going to fall asleep. I would day dream till I pass out. Then once I fall asleep, I hope to dream an endless dream. I have left everything outside. All the things that owned me lies in my house. I’m not in need of them anymore. There’s nothing that’s mine that I have left out. Except for my heart. I have left it for you. It is yours to take or leave. I can’t force you take it. But you may find it useful in your darkest hours. It has survived the worst till now. I know your heart to be stronger than mine. Much more warmer than mine. But if at all you find yourself on a long cold day, alone in your bed and in need of warmth but not a whole human, you can pick my heart out and hold it close. I swear it’ll grow warmer with your touch and provide you the comfort to get you through the night. It’ll keep beating for you till the end of times. And if at all the end of times arrive, and you find yourself alone in the world with nothing to eat, you can eat my heart too. I hope it gets you through few more days, anything to keep this humanity alive. But do not worry about me. I’m safe here in this cave, far away from this treacherous life, dreaming about you.
Dreaming about her
It was some day in a summer. One from the old days when I was too young to worry about the hot weather. But the weather seemed to be fine that afternoon. I was home and I must be ten or twelve. You were at my home, may be because I asked you to come or looked like your parents dropped you off. You weren’t that happy. You weren’t sad either. Oh, and you were of the same age too. We had had our lunch and were lying down for an afternoon nap. Mom’s orders. You were in my bed and being a guest, you got to watch the TV, since you told you don’t have the habit of sleeping midday. While I had to go sleep in the hall. I didn’t have an excuse. But I couldn’t sleep either. I was so curious to talk to you. I just sneaked my way out to find you. You were trying to hide yourself from this strange place and you were doing a good job at it. Took me time to find you fully draped in the bed sheet, with only your eyes left uncovered. Pointed only at the TV. I sheepishly called out to you and asked in an ever so low voice, “Do you want some ice cream?” You got up and nodded trying to hide your smile. Then I carefully picked the carton off the freezer and took it with you to the kitchen. I can say from your looks that you were greatly disappointed that’s it was plain vanilla. I was pretty upset to see that look. Then I rushed back to the fridge and took out a couple of Mango bite and frozen Rasna I had left last night. I scooped out the ice cream in two bowls, equally and a little extra for you. Then I let the Rasna on the stove and it melt hardly, forming a cloud atop the vessel. And nearby I stood and crushed the candy into a sandy texture and mixed it with the ice cream. It was all done with so much enthusiasm and such care like it were rocket science. And all the while you stood next to me watching and at the end of it smiled at me with such glee. And I wondered what did I do to earn this dream.