a note

I would have let you see this page
I would have let you read these lines
But so many of you are there,
each with so many impressions, opinions and thoughts about me
Each one having known me differently

And You, I could have let you read these words,
To let you fathom who it is I have in mind
It would surprise you, nay,
Perhaps not so much from me
Not expected! or oh how so creative! how something and something

But in the text I have woven
I would have wanted you to know
Few grains, few fibers and portions,
To let you just know
It is You whom I had in mind
That it was you whom I addressed.
Unable to do so in real life,
Unable to show so much in real life,
Like seeing this page would be reading my soul
Like reading these lines would be stripping me off,
Apprehension and fears looming in large
Hold me from sending these to you,
Each one of you with your impressions and opinions about me...


as though, just letting know is not enough
that you are with me
I keep you with me
In a way differently than you imagine
But keep you with me
All the same.

When the world is but a room for you

I know that this phase won't last
It's like falling in space before you hit the ground, hard
This existence of mine, beyond temporality and space
One day like another
Not even relevant to mark them out..with work? action?
They seem a distant echo of the last impact I had with the universe
Now I am still floating in space
Wondering if emotions such as gratitude, grace or of hollowness, emptiness
Should I seek to burden myself with
or let it be the same

Until I hit the ground next

Story of words

You taught me the love for words
your idioms and expressions creating a world of magic
Those words and your face alight with it..
so familiar of the secure past and childhood of fearless, undoubted confidence
when nothing seemed to make me afraid
nothing challenged my beliefs and
the sunshine seemed to last forever.

In the chamber of your words, unspools the thread of your imagination
creating Big men Small men, twisting realities to humour my tender mind
not too strong, not too harsh,
like potter's hands leaving soft impression on the clay
you shaped the edge of satire, to get the joy of understanding meanings
and how words come together to conjure that world for you
whose every crease, every twist, every shade, every bump in the texture
all take you to that sanctum of words, far away in time, far away in space,
where I am not grown up nor a child, but as though these eyes and these senses have remained just the same
..Staring and listening to the world behind these words
believing in secrecy on their potency to make everything alright.

long before you realize, you will have enchained yourself
you will have committed yourself
and long before you have known
you will have become unrecognizable here.