Works of RK

You would not see the light years I have waited for a call from you. You would not hear the overpowering noise of those hours and days and weeks of silences, that passes by before you connect. I dread your next call, for once it is done, and you have said your bye ji, the cycle of waiting would begin all over again.  Overtime, I have fallen in love with my silences. They are predictable and provide a sense of soothing continuum. Each day runs into other and nothing untoward happens. I am learning to love the shades of black, I love innovating the notes of my silences. They don’t sing as well as you do... as yet, they are not as engaging as you are. Increasingly, you are the distraction that is ruining my routine. You are the strangeness in an otherwise peaceful life. One of these days, I might decide to exorcise thee! Rajesh

Some images are disconcerting. The image of a train running out of a tunnel into the waiting night is one such image. Some of my oldest memories are memories from Train journeys. The incessant clatter of iron wheels on iron tracks used to drum up sad thoughts in me. I have often wondered how loco pilots would feel inside goods trains on moonless nights. The only things that they would see are railway tracks, everything else will be pale blue, black and gloomy. My life these days are quite similar. I peer into the darkness lit by little lights that my loved ones have left behind. All I see is an endless row of fishplates and railway tracks. The stations on the way are mere distractions, some day I need to unload, unwind. Someday I need to stop this speed. Someday will be my last day, some journey, my last errand to run. Some day I will pull into a station... never to leave. In my journey tearing through the darkness of my life, I am guided by the Spirits and also by the memories of wond

I knew that someday you would not be around all the time. I knew that someday the winds will stop blowing your fragrance my way. I knew this and still I dreaded the silences that were to follow the storm you whipped up in my life. A knock on the door changed everything. Now I need not be worried that I will remember you too often... I will never forget you :) Most relationships are accommodating in nature. I am included in your scheme of things, but I am seldom the universe around which you plan your things. Such relationships are what I call accommodating. "I will be in that part of the town tomorrow...shall we meet up?" is an example. Very few relationships are inclusive in nature. When you felt like meeting me, you planned your universe around me, you made me feel very important. You made me believe that for a moment, I was the centre of your universe. I have seldom been made to feel this way. Thank you.

A year of silences were dispelled over a couple of words on Chat.  I have no clue what I have missed out, I do not know of how much trouble, or how much love I missed out in these 365 days. All I know is that I suddenly have an open line again. Memories of the din and buzzle of Hyderabad haunt me again. All the places, all those movies, and the nights our dining together, all these little things, I miss them again. Thank you for some Springtime bloom amidst Autumn gloom. Rajesh

All is well until I hold you in my hands. Even as time stands still with baited breaths waiting for those postcard moment of life to be delivered, my own thoughts are far from you. The fear of what a hug would do to you keeps me from hugging you. The fear of how you would react to a touch, a feel a kiss keeps me from touching you feeling you kissing you. The times that I have lived have been longer than those of others, the thoughts that shape me are as old as myself, the fears that haunt me today; have walked with through all my lonely trecks. It suddenly seems that we two, we are at two disparate ends of an otherwise not so interesting life, I roll back my longings, pack my bags of desire... and walk on. With me walks an alluring sense of disconnect. Rajesh

No, I wont ever be away from you. Bound to you like the other end of a Compass, I forever remain connected to you. Where ever I go, you will still find me drawing circles, circles of life around you.

My life is a brilliant orchestra.  I do not know the players, I will never see the composer nor the conductor; I do not know when the drums will sound, or the violins play or when the trumpet would shout loud. All I know is that there is magic in the wild cacophony of my life. I like some compositions, I hate some. It might not be a Bethoven or a Bach...it still sounds like a good symphony to me. And amidst these myriad tunes, you are my favorite sound. Rajesh