Works of RK

I am a traveling salesman. All my life, I have sold ordinary stuff, but not before carefully wrapping them in mystical weaves of svelte velvet dreams. I have heard the best of stories from one shore, added a wee bit of my own and sold it to the other shores. This will never end. I have a million more. There have always been people who stopped to listen. Always people who have waited with silent anticipation, hoping that the story teller would come their way, and amidst his tales, sell them some stupid stuff as well. In me they heard their own voices, mine was muted, I never had a story of my own. And as I grew older, I learned the kind of stories that people love to hear. Those were no stories of fairies and gnomes, these were stories of ordinary lives, everyday people like you and me, fighting over every day issues, and winning! For the drab life that they lived, they wanted me to make them believe in an alternate life. From the yesterdays that they remembered, and the today they cons

I once knew a girl who would look at me as if I were the Creator and she my Creation. She was otherwise a very fiery spirit, always the one with most questions, always the one who had the last word. But when she was with me she went all silent, as if I were a black hole and every time we were around, she used to take shapes of things I love, she used to lose herself and become a part of me. For me, she used to become a muted doll. Exquisite to look at, amazing to drape around, awesome to sleep with, but slowly, a bore to wake up to. I remember the first days of our relationship. I used to love Hard rock cafe and she was a Rolling Stone buff. I loved Meatloaf, and she was stuck with MJ. I used to quote Ayn Rand, and she would quote from the Manifesto. I loved this girl once, she was wonderfully different. Two colors could blend to form a third one. We could have together become more than each other. And then one day she woke up from her slumber. It seems she found me with another doll d

Do you see these tracks Raj? I do princess. What do they make you feel? Ah! Now you think I have feelings too? Offo Raj, I want an answer. I love being near them. In fact, I have one running close to where I live. Funny you would say that Raj. I live next to them too. I know princess. We discussed this fifteen years ago. Big deal Raj. What did you do about it? You remember that guy who sold me my house two years ago? Haneef? Yes. Ya Raj, i remember, what about him? When I was buying my house, I gave him only one specification. And that was? I told Haneef that I wanted a house next to a railway track. Dog you are Raj. Bhou bhou baby.

All these years...and suddenly there were a dozens of photos of you smiling. Most nights, a little before slumber invades, I think of how you might be crying yourself to sleep, shaking in throbs, muffling those sobs and drying those tears so that he does not get irritated at you. All these years and suddenly I see you smiling through so many beautiful pics. I wish I could steal some happiness from these pics and save it for a rainy day. I could then send some smiles your way, in little installments of sunlight. You look awesome when you are happy.

Long flights remind me of you. All this cacophony of every day living and suddenly there is so much time. What do I do with all this time? Long flights remind me of you. I have left the city lights and even the clouds behind. Up here there is white sunshine. I can see right up to the rim and beyond. The constant growl of engines is the only give away, nothing  moves, for hours, everything outside remains same. And then you start taking over my mind. Like the sky that turns crimson before night, I can feel your thoughts invade, pervade, persuade. Color me crimson when there is still time. Color me crimson before it is night. Long flights... Ah long flights!

Parents are probably the greatest gift God gave to children. As I grow older, I closely observe my parents and their role in my life. Even in their sixties, they relentlessly continue to make sacrifices for me that are very difficult for me to fully comprehend. It is maybe because I do not have a child or a partner of my own. My ma misses her evening serial so that my rotis are ready. My dad catches an auto so that I can travel by his airconditioned car. The list of small things they do for me everyday is endless. They continue to surprise me by pushing the boundaries of sacrifice for me. And to imagine that it started 39 years ago and continues unabated to this day is an humbling experience. When lord Ganesha and lord Karthik were asked to make a quick round the world trip, Karthik promptly flew away on his peacock, hoping to win the race. Lord Ganesha was a step ahead. He quickly took a round of where his parents were sitting. Thereby, winning the race. a

Have you been to places that time forgot Have you seen those faces lost in thought Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately Are you the same woman that I knew once,  or is it the one that I lost?    Do you, when you close your  eyes,  see those phantoms from our past? Of all the faces that flicker on the screen Is there some that of me reminds? This road has some travel left And these journeys are often long, One day when all this is done You and I will sit along And for every year of your neglect My dear, you will sing me a song.

Life burns up at rate faster than meteor showers. Before we have had a chance to blink, our moment is over, like the lives of those who came before. I have never tried to make sense of this hurry to consume, could never comprehend why it is so difficult to slow down lives pace, live a little more. A few lines from Auden's As I walked out one evening provides some solace. 'I'll love you till the ocean Is folded and hung up to dry And the seven stars go squawking Like geese about the sky. 'The years shall run like rabbits, For in my arms I hold The Flower of the Ages, And the first love of the world.' But all the clocks in the city Began to whirr and chime: 'O let not Time deceive you, You cannot conquer Time. 'In the burrows of the Nightmare Where Justice naked is, Time watches from the shadow And coughs when you would kiss. 'In headaches and in worry Vaguely life leaks away, And Time will have his fancy To-morrow or to-day. Or maybe a couple of lines fr

Should you hear a puppet talk, would it say goodbye every time the show is done? The darkness that lurks behind heavy draped curtains don't let in light, would you hear it every say good night? Should someday a streetlight talk to you, would you hear it say in the dead of the night, walk my my walk walk my way?

Puppets on a string, strung together to the puppet master, each playing a role that goes beyond our persona's, our beliefs, our lives. Like my Grandfather, I live through life and those who know me, through me knows him. The same old die that the maker left behind, keeps creating likes of me for ever more. All the places that I will ever see are places I would have seen before, all the faces I will ever wear will be faces I have donned before. In me is everything that is there to be, in me is my personal definition of eternity. Scratch the surface or bleed me through, all the colors that you will see are colors that are part of me. I am one with all my selves, I just love to be.