Pacific

I live on sixth floor And the road to my residence is flanked with high priced buildings, it has these shops for prodigals Under me, as I metaphorize, are these ever rushing cars, Honking the horns Your eyes would often be enticed by the flashy cars here, Maybe a BMW or an Audi, I doubt about a Lamborghini though There is a church with a big round window on its frontal, facing a pavement and the church is painted in red Also, the tallest building of the city stands nearby me And you can see it from my huge window I have many such peepholes in my place which keep emancipating me I, every day, visit a wood If you can enter it, ever, you would find a huge ground The ground where for the first time I had ever laid on the naked grass covered with dew With my back resting flat And my face facing the sky at night I have spent my nights for the longest outside with no shelter on my head there In fact, the first rain dance ever was the one I had there, stiffened...

What gave me anxiety, such as my breathing was now palpitating soon was the question that where I belong to. When it appeared to me, it was not just a sentence in interrogative with a proper syntax that people often ask. It was huge. Huge, because it had more queries attached with it; Moreover, it was inspired by my current situations. All of a sudden, all the people with whom I had been associated were just random acquaintance to me that were by the virtue of commonness, who said 'I love you' to each other on a hysterically excited note, the common places or the ideas or so and so with whom were shared. Just acquaintance, where was my connection or the connection, was it me who was not sufficient to keep up with it and preserve it or was it something never worth having or is it great the way it is. I realized it on a divergence of a path or confluence, where the people I knew ever since seemed so strangers to me as if I never belonged among them. Suddenly, my sense of belon...

Reminiscence of the past time revives each year, when the autumn is knocking at the door. It also signifies the arrival of winter. When the sun starts to set earlier with the passage of each day and the day becomes shorter, when people lock their thresholds sooner than usual and the footpaths are empty by 8 p.m. When no more do the crickets sing nor do children play outside for long. When everything is closed and shut, the things and vision is vague, the mist covers the windows panes and fog envelopes in the air. When faces are pale, palms are cold, a merry Christmas is there but not so merry hearts, a fear that says, 'what will be next once this merriment ends ?' and the cold hearts searches for warmth to be pink and bloom again.  The only help that comes is from self, to hold on the things tight and let not it slip. Otherwise, there are the relics of memories and the people who once were there and have left now. Those who are far seem farther than usual, nothing helps...

The sun shone over his head and he had a helmet for me in his hands, sacrificing himself. I have seen him growing up, so I can justify his actions as he would have had his own. I can reason him and hence, his brisk moves don't appear crude to me.  The sun was right behind him, he stood on the other side of the road with his glasses on, balancing his bike on his firm legs. He seemed to face the front intently but he knew well when I was there. Perhaps it was mine intent stare that enticed his attention of instincts. He gave me a smile, to which I do not remember how I reciprocated. The duration of crossing the road was prolonged, it felt so. I had never ridden on a motorbike and hence, I was disappointed seeing his vehicle. Yet this fellow who was adamant on his promise of putting me through the roller coasters was glad. Any amount of nagging could not compensate for my relocated thighs and distorted orientation. After having greeted each other, that I was not attentive to, agai...

Untuned symphonies, Hazy silhouettes, Distorted symmetries, Dark days, Monsoon mornings, Moonless skies, Head under canopy when outside it rains,  Children without fantasies,  Food without appetite,  Did I cause discomfort with the pairings ?  Unevens. Would you breathe in comfort when they are paired ?  How then the broken you pair with me expecting that I would repair you ?