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Showing posts from June, 2019

The Space is a cold place

Were you two really close once?
I don't know. Never really thought about it that way. I always liked to believe that I was close to her. But then I will never really know, right?


And now?
And now I know that I am not. I am no longer a moon, and she no longer is my Sun. From where I live now, she is more like a distant star, and I, a satellite, unhinged.

Winds of Change

As you move from being an institution in my mind to just another person, all those definitions and all those expectations, too, transition through time.

You for me
Are like an old world Talkie
Where once, small town movies
Played to uncouth rustic folks like me.

I romanticize my pain
And I glorify my losses.
All movies that played here
In my mind,
Were blockbuster movies
And all actors
Were characters
From my little life with you.

Once we down the shutters
For long enough in time
Time would cure me
Of my countryside memories
Of whistling of the trains
And the running in the rain.

I will remember you
Like I want to
You will forget me
Like you are wont to.

If a drop could Color an Ocean

If a drop could color an Ocean
You my dear,
Would be that drop
And my life an endless 
                              Expanse of you.

The Long Sleep

In the little lies I tell myself
Lying awake late into nights
Between sheets as cold
As your last remembered gaze
I find myself thinking about you
In endless hellish loops.

Wind in your hair
The Sun in your eyes
The gloss, the glitter
And the sudden burst
Of laughter...

And then everything
Turns bitter

If only there was one Death
Like the last blip  On a matrix like screen
And then
N.o.t.h.i.n.g...

@The Agartala Airport

These Tribal colors are alluring. Bright reds interlaced with dark of the greens. The beads, the shimmer of coarse native silk and the anticipation of making a sale, in Pinky Das' eyes!
Madam will be very happy, she said. The stole will go well with the beads.
I keep buying stuff
Imagining
That someday you will walk in
And ask for them.
I keep living
Forgetting
That the leather case from last year
And the mustard silk batik from last month
Remain cocooned in their shells
Awaiting redemption
From their misery
Of being with me.