Dusty melancholic roars….

Dusty melancholic roars….
Coming from the very core….
Fleeting of a long gone soundless thunder…
A last left piece of the blue sky peeping from a corner,
Attempting to make its presence felt amongst the dark clouds…
Brownish green leaves relentlessly clinging to the trees…
Tiny birds gathering all their strength to fly against the wind…
All this stage show… without a drop of water
It reminded me of something…
As if a part of me was on display…

अधून मधून पण अगदी नियमित पणे असे दिवस उजडतात, ज्यात आजूबाजूला घडणाऱ्या गोष्टी आणि आपल्यामध्ये एक अदृश्य, त्रासदायक अंतर जन्म घेत. खुपदा कॉम्पुटर्स, वर्चुअल गप्पा, बिलं आणि रोज उगवणाऱ्या नवीन नवीन इच्छांच्या गदारोळात हा बदल आपली निब्बरता छेदु  शकत नाई... पण थोडं थांबलं, टेकेडी वर शांत बसला कि त्या अंतराची भयाणता जाणवायला लागते.. मेजर गोंधळ तेव्हा होतो ना जेव्हा हि गोष्ट अगदी गुरुत्वाकर्षणा सारखी matter of factly घेतात सगळे... पण नकोय मला असा! Detachment चा काहीतरी messed up अर्थ लावतोय ना आपण सगळे? शेवेटी हे सगळा का? छान नोकऱ्या, visiting cards वरती मस्त वाटणार्या पदव्या, कपाटामध्ये तुमच्या बुद्धिमत्तेचा दाखला देणारी पुस्तकं, Parties मध्ये उगाच telecom ministry नि कसा घोळ घातलाय यावर चर्र्वीचारण या सगळ्या मध्ये मी दुसर्या व्यक्तीशी खरी खरी कधी बोलू , मी होऊन? (in progress)

melting away

Then she ran… ran like no one could catch her…

Her limbs gradually got numb

like a drop of ink steadily painting the water…

all she could sense was  sweat dripping from her forehead…

it was chilled for some reason… she figured, she has turned into a block of ice…

and then laughed, “I am running aren’t I”

she ran faster…  “Left leg after right, left leg after right”… flashbacks of instructions in school…

(She never liked those anyways)

“Oh the pleasing wind!”

Trees, houses, dogs and cows passed one after the other….

Few thoughts too…

And she wondered how strong she had gotten; the sweat wasn’t accompanied by exhaustion…

that cheered her up, but the smile didn't come easy…

As if stapled to something… or worse, frozen…

She let out a silly, unaware glance at her feet…

And a chill ran through… (an already present one)

A puddle of water, fused into filth… and some traces of her old existence…  

She discovered the sweat, the chill, the running to be something completely different…

A bundle of randomness welded together… that what she recognized as “self” before,

melted into a pool of nothingness… one drop at a time….

Mirror! Mirror!

I walk with a limp in the empty rooms…

the rooms that never seemed so massive before…

The cold kota floors cut through me like a sharp knife…

Or may be it’s the chill of my own feet….

the chill that I used to cover with thick layers of wool…

But somehow it doesn’t hurt that much…not anymore…

I can see the tall, pretty mirror from the other end of the house…

There are walls between… but strategically placed… precisely exposing the mirror…

I can even see the tiny carvings of rose buds on all four corners…

But then I looked where I was supposed to…

Right in the eye… and saw distorted fragments of my replica…

Seemed even more crafted and made up than the carvings….

It didn’t smile… but didn’t seem there were ever any tears either…

An unaffected mannequin….

With no traces of what was lying inside… as if absent….

Finally I track back the trail of numbness… right there… someplace inside the imitation…

And although I noticed freckles of pain… left behind clinging to the real…

Those too were proficiently buried… right under the shiny layers of mercury….

All I wish is to go back to those shores…

Where the newly born waves would take birth in my lap…

And mistake me for their mother…

Stare at me with utmost affection… which fools me too…

Sitting on those dark, rocky borders…

the bliss doesn’t overwhelm me… as I don’t fear it will disappear…

Its there to stay… oh I am sure!

The shivering of astonish…. senses numbing… and recollection of the long gone trail of occurrences….

The stomach gets caught up in a permanent churn… dragging your heart lower and lower…..

I stand right under the sun… hoping for the pessimist in me to evaporate… the sun gives nothing but the heat…..

I secretly wish for a greater burn…. That will turn me down to ashes…. Feeling ashamed of crying over a headache….

I see no solidness…. Waving my hands in the air… like a lunatic…. trying to get hold of the doorknob… so that it opens….

My heart attempts to gather all the pain I have and hopes it’s greater than the one I see in you…  So I can see and know…. Really know…. As I don’t as yet….

Sitting by the window at pitch dark AMs…..

Being fully aware of her non consequential existence …..

A part of her wants to question….

Attempts to get angry with the help of the word ‘Why’….

But the other part… the more prominent one knows….

That this ‘why’ is as non consequential as she is….