The withering

On a rainy day, faraway

a withering flower 

whispered a poem.

The winds of the mind 

carried it afar

via words

burdened with their own weight.

For where medicines

and meditations may fail

Words work.

For they carry...

love,

the warmest of words,

the lightest of feelings.

The winds stop, 

the clouds pour,

the body pauses, 

the soul cleanses, 

the mind cries.

The poet always 

loves, and 

tries.

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

Yesternight, as I grappled with a throbbing headache, my partner "surpgifted" me with one of the most thoughtful and wonderful gifts/books ever. The book helped.

It's truly a poem on everything. :-)

I am only halfway through it but it's really unputdownable. One of the best books I've ever read...

Here's my humble contribution to the dictionary:

• Assisong - the act of assigning a song to a person, to yourself, to a slice of life, to a situation, or to a place either in the past or present.
• Citalgia - the emotions that pour out of you when you think of the city(ies) you've been to/lived in and the memories you made there knowing fully well that you may never go back there/live there again.
• Restalgia - the emotions, and dare I say, saliva too, that pour out of you when you think of your favorite restaurant(s) and your favorite food from there knowing fully well that you may never get to eat there again or that that restaurant(s) has closed down/may close down soon.
• Quitenjob - the feeling that overtakes you during your last few days at a workplace while you're serving your notice period, or as your contract period gets over and won't be renewed, or if they've served you a notice period.
• Asgoodasitgetsintend - the helpless feeling when the love of your life gives you a last hug (which you don't know is the last one at the time) and you feel like this is/was as good as it gets till it lasts/lasted and then it ends/ended one fine day like everything alive dies/died.
• Surpgift - the surprise gift that beats all other gifts because of its meaningfulness and intensity.

My Bangalore Days are over

Bangalore, a city that evokes different and distinct emotions for different folks.

 
For me, it only evokes memories... 

In 2002, when Ani shifted from apna Vasai to work at HP, it was still HP. Bangalore was still Bangalore. Wind Tunnel Road was still like a tunnel made of old trees on both sides with canopies closing in above. 

The whole city was still green. There were no frothing lakes. HSR Layout and Sahakar Nagar were simple-but-far-from-city-center residential layouts with mud roads. Yelahanka was like a satellite town. 

The airport was still inside the city with green fields surrounding it. ACs were not a necessity yet.

Ani has his own share of memories in Bangalore: him meeting a few loves of his life and finally marrying one of them...

I certainly have no nostalgic memories of Bangalore without him though. He meant Bangalore for me.

 
Now, I'll only miss its weather. Which is also soon leaving the place like he is.

Bangalore never meant food joints or pubs to me. It was the only place I felt I always had a second home. Home was where Ani lived.

He certainly was Bangalore's non-resident resident, if that makes sense. His interactions with the locals and the city culture were minimal and if-and-only-if-required kinds. But he did make a few lasting or memorable relationships here.

This was the city where we shared Friends, How I Met Your Mother, The Practice, Breaking Bad, most seasons of GoT, and beer together.

This was the city where we made long trips braving city traffic to collect pirated DVDs of A or B-grade thrillers, slashers, and a few good films together.

I have seen the city being abused. Seen it grow without any direction.
Now am directionless. In Bengaluru. 

For there's no place called home here anymore.

Bengaluru without Ani is just another dying city in India. For me, he made the city come alive with love, laughter, and hope.

Now, I hope that I can call Lisbon my second home soon. Hope he makes it BIGger there.

Return of the prodigal son

He's back. Confucius. 

It took 47 days filled with nerve-wracking moments of numbness. 

On our 4th first-met anniversary day, when I petted him in the alley he was hiding in and scooped him up in a bear hug of sort... my heart burst. With 1,000 and eight emotions. 

I've experienced and driven through a cloudburst before and now I know why it's called a cloudburst.

Watching Kukubera crying out tears of joy while calling out his name on video call as Andrew and I escorted him back home in our Snubby was the perfect start to an auspicious day. 

He's back home to his fellow companions, Skipper, Rose, and Honey. He's skinny now with no injuries of any sort and will soon be back in good health soon.

We're eternally grateful to Anand's 8-year-old son, who spotted him at 5:30 am when he used to go buy milk. We found him at the exact same spot where he said Confu will be... 

We fulfilled our promise of 10K cash reward but there's an eternal gratefulness that money can't buy.

We thank every single member of the Yours WhatsApp group and others who joined us in our search for Confu. 

As I had said, hope is the best of things.

Confucius, not just a dog

Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets, says something to the effect of "All this just for a dog!" He says this when he realizes Verdell, the dog, had ceased to be just a dog for him. 

Confucius came into our lives about two years ago. One fine morning, he was just there in our compound: scared, timid, and a stranger. We believe he just slid in through the hole in the wall in our backyard. 

Vasu named him after the Chinese philosopher as he had an eternally confused look on his kohl-eyed face. 

It took him a couple of weeks to get close to us. He's a diabolical dog: multiple personalities existed inside him. Timid but brave, responsive but not as much as most pet dogs, expressive but non-barking, except when in our presence. 

He's more of a wagging, whining, and intensively-looking-into-your-eyes kind of dog.

He loved Vasu the most. 

He'll communicate via his whines and silent eyes that follow you. When you call out to him, unless you have his favorite morning food or Marie biscuits in hand, he'll just wag his tail and not always run to you.

We lost him on 10 April in front of Luna Pet Clinic as he ran away in sheer fright. He took off as if he was possessed. 

Since then, we're still searching for a piece of our soul to be reunited with us, a chapter of our collective life to be reread, a dog that ceased to be just a dog for us long ago.

We hope this is not as good as it gets. Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.

What am I?

Inspired by Who are you?

a mischievous whistle over a tidy river. 

the last arrow in your quiver.
an image that you finally delete.

a thought, you thought you could cheat.
a nameplate that you throw away.

a favorite song you've forgotten. 

a favorite dress made of cotton.

a battle you wished you had won.

your many loves hidden in one.
a sleepless night spent over a silly fight.

a dog's loose fur.

a cat's loving purr.
a faded garden of books.

your corner among many nooks.
the last scent of your past loves.

an old pen that you still keep.
a pair of Hawai chappals cheap.
a call of the wild.

still a growing child...

a snowflake made of fractals.

born of stardust, 

on Earth's crust, 

out of lust,
someone's living trust.
a human universe made of halos.

A hill of beans

Neither the problem nor the solution exists outside our minds. Our small, narrow minds. 

Climate change. Overpopulation. Serial killers. Abusers. Tyrants. Dictators. Wars. Famine. Floods. 

Most of these 'problems' are all caused by us but impact other life forms on Earth as well. That's the only true tragedy. One species causes the destruction of so many other species purely because of 'our progress', and not because of 'our evolution' is the real tragedy.

Most of the 'solutions' to these problems, caused by us, impact only us; that is also a consequential tragedy.

Our existence is a mere blip in time. All our history, nostalgia, and good old days, all amount to nothing. 

Just a hill of beans. 

Just like individual cells live and die in 'our body', so do 'we' live and die in 'this body'. 

Our impermanence is real. The flux is true. 

Birth and death are mere words in languages we've invented that have no meaning beyond them. 

We're just 'vibrations' that seem real only to dissolve into that which we emerged from. 

A million times

When memories dried and dead 
Are awakened
At night, as nightmares
Only to be forgotten again,
A million times...

When life cuts your 
Heart out to dry
Under a scorching sun,
A million times...

Know that love 
Was served to you
On the bleeding edge 
Of a kitchen knife, 
And not on a silver platter,
A million times...

Till an oven bakes love for you
Into perfection
A million times...

Ad Astra

A journey towards outer space is truly an exploration of inner space. Both are truly deep.

Both have basic and fundamentally deeper questions, which still seek answers irrespective of the questioner and when and where it was asked.

For I think, only when we journey into deep space we're truly beholding the journey on Earth too. How lonely, how transitory, how insignificant our life and its pursuits are.

How most individual humans' thoughts are similar to collective humanity's views: selfishness, utter helplessness, loneliness, past remembrances, reminiscences, the path ahead, the will to survive et al.

How the proverbial sins of the father (forefathers) affect the son(s)... Whether we are in orbit at the outer edges of the solar system or in motion on Earth, we're always in search. Seeking an end to our loneliness, a permanent home perhaps.

Where truly is our home? Are we not forever on a journey inside and outside? Aren't we always traveling without ever arriving?

Isn't this planet we think of as home also just a spaceship at the edge of the Milky Way, part of our known universe? Aren't we all truly just astronauts within, hurtling through space?

We have to make this journey count for no one else can do it for us. But I don't know how... How to make it count? 

the extent of infinity

days have passed

the sun has risen and dipped
in place of the moon
yet, i haven't known the extent
of my love for you;
you haven't known the extent

of your love for me.

yes, you. 

you, of the color of the earth
for even flowers confuse you for
home.
am just a-bee!

James Webb shows 
we're just markers on
rules set for us by time.
we had to collide:
even our briefest moment together
lasts the longest in our minds.

to spend a lifetime together,
you must want to spend an eternity
with yourself. 
And so like me, love yourself because of you
in me, me in you.

Like me, remove the walls around you
brick by brick
And let's watch love grow and 
bloom together:
in our once-solitary sanctuary.

let's catch the falling stars,
the distant galaxies,
and sprinkle them on all the stardust in our love,
while inside us,
we teleport
some magic,
some chaos,
and some poetry.

i hope to end
our life together,
like we started,
in truth.

May our love alone continue...
And, this poem too.

A poem to a poetry in motion

A word is not enough, 
Unspoken, unwritten is she.

A noble deed born,
Undone, done, reborn.

A seed, a flower, a mother,
Blooming, withering, budding again.

A wind, a tree, an ocean
Blowing, growing, burdening,
Again and again.

Her eyes contain the universe,
In which is my small world,
Which I try to capture
With my small words...

In which my love 
Is born, blows, blooms, grows, and with
Her each unspoken word,
It burdens itself.

For my words can't carry the weight
Of this entire poem.

This feeble poem on a
Poetry in motion, known better as the seed of the flower that becomes a tree, which burdens the ocean in parts. 

My cinnamom, my humble pride.

Thehraav

What a word!

Like I can make love to her and watch her orgasm.

And be still in her stillness,

Inside and outside.

Thehraav.

Ghar ban jaate hain...

Is kiraye ki bhoomi par
Kahin kiraye ke makaano mein
Rahaa hu mein.

Kabhi doston ke ghar par, 
Kabhi ajnabeeyon ke dilon mein,
Kabhi raaston ke kinare,
Kabhi nadiyon ke kinare.

Kabhi kis dhun ke leher par,
Kabhi kisike mutti ke uss paar,
Kabhi hosh mein,
Kabhi aaghosh mein.

Ab, koi yeh batlayein kii inn
24 makaano mein 
Mera ghar kaunsa tha?
Meri yaadein kahaan rehte hain?

Jab kiraye ke makaanon mein, 
Hum yaadein banaa lete hain, 
Tab, kya wah makaan ghar ban jaata hain?

Makaan mein jab hum kisi se pyaar karte hain,
Kisika intezaar karte hain,
Tab, kya wah makaan ghar ban jaata hain?

Ro, ro kar jab phir ek baar
Jeene kii ummeed rakhte hain,
Kya tab wah theekana,
Uss musafir ke liye ghar ban jaata hain?

Iss ghumti hui bhoomi par,
Ek chotaa sa aasmaan hum basaate hain,
Tab, kya wah aasman ghar ban jaata hain?

Gharonda kya deewaron se banta hain,
Kii chatt se?
Kii pairon ke neeche jo zameen hain,
Us se?

Jab koi makaan ke darwaaze ke upar 
Aapka naam likha jaata hain,
Tab, kya wah ghar aapka ho jaata hain?

Kiraye kii shareer mein,
Doosro ke mann mein,
Kahiyon ke sawaalon ko dhundthe hue,
Jab hum kahiyon ke jawaabon ko leker
Khud ek sawaal ban jaate hain,

Tab, kya wah sawaal aur uss sawaal ka
Jawaab ghar ban jaata hain?

Obscure Sorrows

Life's a wonder,

In life, I ponder.

Forever, the seas and skies

Outside and inside, my mind races into the 

Wide blue yonder. 

Even beyond her.

As the still mind wander(s),

And we grow through age and time, to each other, fonder.

I hear a sudden peal of thunder:

Sonder.

Tum kya ho?

Koi sheher ho tum...

Bombay ki meethas aur masala hain tum mein,
Madras ki mandiron
Ki pukar hain tum mein.

Bangalore ki sard raaton 
Ki sanaata hain tum mein,
Pune ki masti aur maze 
Ki baat hain tum mein.

In sab sheheron mein base logon
Ki pareshaaniyon ka ilaaj hain tum mein.

Himalay ki goonj bhari khamoshi hain tum mein.

Mere har ghar
Ki ehsaas hain tum mein.

You and me in us

On the oak as a creeper rests, 
As the lungs give out, finally
In death, even, we look 
Beautiful.

As the parched lips, chapped skin
Say goodbyes to rain,
Devoiding the desert grass of dew,
My body soaks in your thoughts
Even as your lips touched my soul.

At war with our own selves,
When we've finally overcome,
The enemies within, we forged
A new battle to forgive
All our wars past.

In this transient lifetime,
With close deaths of closer lives,
Your permanence soothes
My cuts that bleed loneliness. 

Life spent picking flowers
For deities unworthy of worship,
You got me to pick myself
Like a scaffolding for a temple in ruins.

Let us be wild, good, and lasting
Love helplessly.
For, let us be the last of our kind:
A legend for kids tomorrow, 
Running wild and free.

What a year; the year that was 2020!

Days, weeks, months, years pass by. The pale blue dot continues on it perilous though insignificant journey, except that it gets a bit significant through human eyes.

In my eyes, 2020 will be defined and remembered for a lot of right-wing and fascist political parties showing their true intentions and colors. This year will be edged in our collective memories as a space and time when during a pandemic, the government and the powers that be chose to look the other side. When peaceful protests and dissents were violently crashed. When India became a pale version of itself... Its future as a true democracy in dire straits... When a temple became more than the deity inside it... When the deity's idol became more important than the deity's ideals...

All through this year with its unplanned and sudden lockdown with the most disastrous consequences showed India its true identity. That we were mostly bigots in the hiding. That the so-called urban educated believed in religion over state and caste over humanity. Most of the NRIs, with their rose-tinted spectacles for the PM and his ilk, were singing bhajans and completely veiling themselves from the realities on the ground. The largest reverse migration in the history of humankind was invisible to the government and the courts.

This was a year when I felt sad that I am an Indian. Truly ashamed of my govt, my people, and especially those who voted for the nincompoop and his ilk.

With WFH becoming the norm, and changing my job mid-year where the scenario was better-to-avoid-than-being-avoided kinds, I had overcome yet another crossroad in life. High risks were always a part of my life. 

I have always gambled huge, lost some along the way but in the end have always learned, loved, and won my own heart. For life as it is, is my only teacher.

The way forward was filled with fear and apprehension and the only solace, the only comfort, the only source of truth was her and through her, my newfound family. 

Alex brought in a kind of cheer, a bundle of joy that made my heart erupt with the purest form of love. His kisses, tangential conversations, trivial deeds, and questions of pure innocence made me feel like a father. His pecks, kisses, hugs, and story-reading sessions made me a child once again. His bad words and waiting for my reactions, his hyes and byes, and the way he'll run to me if and when hurt makes me want to outstretch my arms to this old addiction called life.

Andrew with his excitement, banter, and tireless topics of conversations made me feel wanted. He reached out to me in his moments of need, of attention, loads of self-contemplation, and hidden sources of sorrow. At the tender age of just 10, he made me realize and taught me the importance of being a fatherly friend and a patient guide to a boy, who hardly ever listens to what you say. Yet, his natural love and care makes you want to be there for him as he goes through this transition period in his young life.

My Cinnamom baked her life out this year while life baked her in more ways than one. 2020 tested her to the core. With her health levels plunging to the lowest of lows while her stress levels beating her previous records, it was a truly testing phase in her life. Her musings, her passions, her writings, and a few OTT series and movies kept her sane during an insane 2020. 

All through, I stood by her like a rock while she was my deep sea anchor. We complemented each other in every way possible. Deep conversations, solitary dual silences, a few disagreements, partner workouts, home gym, healthy food, verbal arguments, love bites, cafes, hot chocolates, home-baked pizzas and pastas, common friends, and sweet nothings... All became a part of our life and lifestyle as a family. 

We laughed between the sheets, made love in the open, stayed at her farmhouse, went on our first long ride, and even persuaded the police to meet each other during the strict lockdown with cleverly detailed and well planned moves! 

End of August saw me moving closer to her residence, which was a dream-come-true moment. With her house being just a stone's throw away, we got to be together almost every day. This gave us a feel of how life will be together. The mundane daily transactions, such as bill payments, other expenses, shopping for provisions and vegetables and fruits, planning our days ahead et al gave us an idea of who we truly were behind our ideals and moral compasses. 

Such days allowed me to silently catch glimpses of her true love and care for all her fellow humans, animals, and plants across all walks of life: feeding strays, baby-talking to them on our way to shops and back, looking after Skipper when he was unwell, advising her old and some long lost school friends through honest conversations, helping her maid, Padma, helping her hairdresser, Hanuman, visiting her cousins, and being there for all of them... Quite objectively, she truly is the best human being I've ever met and I've met quite a few throughout my brief but eventful life. :-)

All her close friends became my close friends too though I could not say that about a few of my close friends. I would have loved that but that's fine. 

As the year comes to a close, she's inspired me and pulled me from my depths of self-doubt and low self-confidence and made me shed a good 10+ kg while gaining lean muscle mass. Our new Honda CB350 doesn't look bad when I ride it now. :-)

2020 made life and love worth it. 2020 made me realize the importance of looking after my family, old and new. 

Here's to a hopeful, healthy, and happy "family-full and love-filled" 2021. :-)

After a stormy night

For the butterfly, it is out,
For the firefly what is within.
You and I survived this stormy night together,
Both inside and outside.

Our conversations and compromises
Change with the sky and stars
Like the raging storm that passes by.
We fall like wet twigs outside
Like stardust inside.

Let me hold your mind
And eyes
Like my poems hold your body
Like a catalog. 

Haikus - II

I. Gifts, scars, pity, hot chocolate?
What do you need, I feel...
My relentless love, tireless attention.

II. Sleepwalking prayers, like unconventional rains

I am not sad about myself...

Your broken things, muted pains.

III. I wish the autumn carries
Flowers in her back pocket, like you...
Drink the moonlight under a cocoon.

IV. Unwinding onions, layer-by-layer

Hold a wildflower in a storm, like your

Past peeled off but unfathomed.

Attempting Haikus

I.

Does the heart cry like rain?
Or, is it the mind that binds?
Come, flow like love in-between. 

                                                            II.

In the era of sunny #s

With neon-lit thumb typefaces,

She writes a love letter.

III.

Donut-shaped eyes afire

Bitter butter-soaked hands bake...

She stripteases our past lives.