If only today was tomorrow...

I’ll never let go.

I’ll be making coffee for you.

I’ll be trekking up the hill one last time.

I’ll bring home a kitten for you.

I’ll be dancing with you.

I’ll be making love like never before.

I’ll be hugging you so tight…

I’ll be the richest man on earth.

I’ll be the poet of the millennium.

I’ll be alive.

I’ll be god.

I’ll be a saint.

I’ll be the man they loved to hate.

I’ll be saying I love you, grandpa!

I’ll be saying sorry to the girl I hurt the most.

I’ll be a hummingbird.

I’ll be a firefly.

I’ll be the prince charming in a fairytale.

I’ll be the next Bob Dylan. The next Big B.

I’ll be the man who raised his voice.

I’ll be another Gandhi.

I’ll be what I never was.

I’ll be my own hero.

It's only words

I have led a life.

Been there and done that.

Loved you all so much...

That I never was loved back!

When I felt lonely, when I was alone...

I looked around

Nobody home.

Except:

Me, paper, pen, and words.

I bleed, I make love, I cry.

I hide.

And soon the ink blots the paper.

It is not fair. Never has been.

Life is a feeling. And I am there.

A stream, and my boat is a word.

Love.

I hope...

I will...

Oh words! Come to me...

To say what I feel.

Now and forever.

You still don't get it.

You never will.

Words are not enough...

ani, your poetry has inspired me to pen this poem... so am dedicating it to you!

What a day!

Yesterday, I was on leave. Cold, headache, bodyache, and I felt fever setting in. So, I took leave…

Besides, my only lovely bro was coming to town from Bangalore for his Visa appointment at the US Consulate. I thought he’ll feel good about me taking a day off for him.

Besides, the 2627 course had still not come in from Microsoft. So all in all, yesterday was a great day to lie on my back and sneeze as much I could.

By the way, my bro got through and he’ll be flying to the US on May 20! All the best, Ani!

Today, the cold still shows no signs of going away. In fact, it has increased in intensity. My nostrils are red and eyes are watering.

Today, I reached office in a very temperamental situation (Haneef, that eight-letter word was a tribute to you)!

Loads of work has landed on my workstation. And I am in no mood to even peer into it. So work stops there.

Then, I receive an e-mail from a great friend, Jeba. He is embarrassed that he lost the only manuscript I had of my first novel. This means that the current manuscript I have has only the first three chapters! The next three chapters I had written, I guess, have disappeared.

Wow!

Someone in future will discover those pages in his/ her attic, and rediscover the masterpiece written by Abhilash! He/ she will sell it to Christie’s. And, Christie’s will auction it for millions!

I immediately wrote back to Jeba:

Holy crow!

Jeba, I had only that one hard copy. I have the first three chapters but don't have the last three chapters I had written.

Looks like my novel is also coming up the hard way... anyways, if ever you find it, please do let me know.

Tell Veena to keep an eye for some word docs which look like trash to her!! hahahah!!!

It's fine, man. Not holding it against you. Don't be embarassed. It's my fault. I should have kept multiple copies.

love always and all the ways,
abhi

Then, I get another e-mail from Sachin. He requires money and I have to repay him 3k…

I also have to repay 15K to Bhupesh. Sorry Bhupesh, I defaulted badly on the repayment. And to top it all, my roomie is yet to give me 15k!

As soon as he gives me 15K, I’ll repay Bhupesh and Sachin too. My head is bursting…

Mentally, I am ready to start work only on Monday. Manic Monday. Or just another day.

Meanwhile, with running nose and watering eyes, I say to myself, “This too shall pass.”

- Abhilash Warrier
Dated: 8.4.2005.

This is a poem I had written to Ani, my brother, on his 22nd birthday... he's grown up and I am proud of him.

I had forgotten all about this poem... till yesterday when Sis, the love of his life, reminded me of the poem in her e-mail to me...

And, I had to get the poem from her to post it here. So Ani, here you go again... i will recite the same poem on every birthday of yours:

**************************************

We have come a long, long way, brother.
You and I.

From the times that you held my hand
And we went to play.

To school through those fields...
Remember Mugran?

I still remember you bowling like Qadir
And then like Small.

All those smart, witty one-liners of yours.

That sitting on the stairs at Jiten saying,
"I'll leave home only in the morning!"

You were there when I was in love for the first of times.

I was there when you rushed from the rick and hugged Reshma!

I was there when you fell in love again and again.

You were there always when I led the way.
Then, you led the way.

I was there when you took your first step (don't remember it though!).
I was there when you loved Vijeta
(While I looked at her ass, her lovely shapely ass).

I was there when you had lunch with Raji.
And when she turned to me and said,
“I feel conscious because of your eyes" you were there.

We were together when you did us proud;
While I humiliated our parents.

When we went double-seat to as far as the cycle would take us.
I was there when you loved cricket more than anything else.

I was there when you fractured your finger.

When I took that impossible catch... you were there!

I still remember our nights together
At Gopinaaaaathan's... and Chakram's houses!!
Drinking 1.5 ltr Pepsi each...
And loving it!

Watching blue movies and shagging one after the other!!!
Hahahaha!!

Walking to Omena chechi's home to sleep with her (literally)!
Getting bored at Vile Parle
Watching Mani drink milk!!!
(Man, how much we wished for her to drink that bloody glass of milk!!!)

I still cherish you talking tough to the sunkey Vice Princey!!
Remember you reading Ayn Rand for the first time.

From then to now...
You with Sis...
You. Everywhere.

Every moment, I lived with you.

I know you and I understand you as I try.
Because you always did the same.

You were my only advocate. My Man Friday.

I love to be with Ani, the warrior, the hero, the self-talker,
The actor, the brother, the great teacher, the musician,
The cine-lover, the movie reviewer, the listener,
The greatest of lovers...

And now... more than ever before,
Ani, the poet… growing… and more...

I don't pray for us to be together.

But this much I ask for:
”May you always have Sis by your side.”
For I know what she means to you.

It's been my pleasure, Sir.
And an honor worth living and dying for.

It is an honor to be your brother.

And an honor to have been there and done that.
With you always by my side.

*********************************************

Love you always and all the ways,
abhi

The God-child arriveth...

Today too, on the third consecutive day, Chennai is facing heavy rains. The people here love it every bit. Seems like it has never rained here in April. The roads are choc-a-bloc with traffic… the traffic lights are off. And the traffic policemen are out in their traditional yellow raincoats directing traffic through waterlogged roads…

The scene, this morning, reminded me of Mumbai during the monsoons. Mumbai took a lot before water logged on the roads; Chennai floods with even moderate rains.

Yesternight, I realized what Sheldon B Kopp was saying in If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill Him, when he wrote, “There are no great people. I am just another struggling human being.”

I see you, Koochie pie. I see me. I realized yesternight while you were talking to me what I had understood earlier. I see Ray Charles. I see how our childhoods impact who we are and what we choose to become.

We are the way we respond to life. Each of us have a different childhood even when we are born into the same household, have the same set of friends, go to the same school, and have the same people as cousins.

How lack of attention and parental neglect affect us. How too much of attention make us weak. How life challenges few blessed ones among us to come up the hard way. How we then cope with life ahead. Because the way we respond to stimuli determines who we are.

I tell you about Vidyuth. We name the unnamed joy we bring into ourselves. You love it. For you’ve been secretly dreaming. And I caught you yesternight. I love it.

For nine months, you will be the queen, if you already don’t feel like one! Vidyuth will be the prince. And I’ll be your genie!

I’ll not let your feet touch the ground. You’ll float. I’ll carry you around. I’ll massage your feet. I’ll feed you every night and day. I’ll clean the house and wash the clothes and cook too!

Koochie pie, nine months will be like a deep breath.

And then, the blessed one will arrive. Will lead the sheep to shelter. Will heal the sick. Our child will be a God-child just like my Koochie-pie.

I look at us

I look at us, Koochie pie, and I see a girl so ahead of her times that she was ignored by all. I see shakti in her. And, I see a boy dying for love, a genius unrecognized by all.

I see the girl who loves love the way the boy loves love. I see them in love with each other.

I see spirits dancing around them. I see the weather changing hues. I see it raining. I see trees flowering, and god clearing their path through the forest.

What a feeling… speechless. Silence takes over. Love overflows and fills their senses. She seldom speaks it out, but he hears it in every breath she takes. He says it aloud in every breath: the rhythm divine.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you...

To Ranga on Chennai...

Good morning to you on a very sultry, humid, overcast Chennai afternoon...

How's the weather there? Yesternight, it rained in and around Chennai... Yesterday too, it rained...

Looks like the rain god has finally had his say in heaven… and the sun god is off on a vacation... at least for two days!

Meanwhile, as I am writing this, it's raining outside... accompanied by thunder and lightning! So you can imagine your hometown (yeah, Chennai is still a town!) in the rains...

Ranga, there is a tree behind our office building, which has managed to grow and peek into our seventh floor canteen! And it has flowered too!

Wide canopy and white flowers waiting to fall off when the smallest of rain drops land on it.

Ranga, the weather is hot but your town is warm.

This is the image of Chennai that I’ll carry with me when I go home… this and the drive along the ECR to Mahabalipuram!