Works of RK

Yes, I can walk back in time and join our lives together into one. I can make two rivers merge into the same sea. I can make both of us lose our identity and become strangers to ourselves. And then we will fall in love again. I can help you and me crawl out of our skin, each using the other, and grow new names and new identities. I can paint this sky crimson and plant 8 birds of love who will continuously flutter their wings for you...flying nowhere. I can. I can erase your memories of strife and loneliness. Of fights with your papa and nights of sobs in your attic. I can help your dog live longer so that you don't have to see him die. I can babble as you drive me into the night and light you a smoke every time you feel like it. I never fall asleep. I am God. I can do miracles.

In me I harbor a cold winter chill. Each day I wake up with prayer on my frosty lips that this long winter of discontent should give way to warm summer breeze. I go out into the cold and trudge through winter gloom. I collect firewood from trees that have given up their greens years ago. My breath turns to icicles and merge with the white below. Every now and then, I come across birds frozen cold. I hold them close to my ears, almost believing that I will hear their little heart beat. These are the times when I am most afraid of snow. The frost has a way of getting into places inside you when you are not looking. And then, in a lonely silent cold winter night, I hear my feeble heart beat. I believe.

From the time we were together to this day when you live in me through my words, I have often asked myself how well I knew you. I have heard this spoken about myself, as to how hard it is to understand me, as if I were a mystery, a Dan Brown novel. I have known you just as well as I have known myself through you. In the fleeting moments of togetherness, I have heard my heart sync with yours and sing the same songs, dance to the same beats. I have felt two souls resonating, as if we were strung to two separate guitars but  strummed by the same cosmic guitarist. I have inhaled your shampooed hair and fell in love with the way you smell. You have breathed me in as I held you close, and from the way I could hear your heart beat, like that of a little humming bird, I knew how much you loved it with me around. I have heard your Hindi poems late into night and I so believe that your lines are far closer to perfection than my meandering thoughts. I have crossed busy Hyderabad streets with you,

I am sure you have read The Godfather. It is one of those very rare books I have read more than once. I have often wondered, when younger, about the relationship Luca had with the Don. It is only now, closer to forty that I understand some bit of it. As we grow older, our personalities crystalline and go on to take shapes that we might not always love. I love myself, I am also at ease with the way this world sees me. But deep in my heart, there is a silent longing that everyone I ever come across come and tell me that I am a wonderful person. I have always wanted to impact every life I touched, positively. However, when I look back, I see that this is far from reality. Back there in my past are numerous graves of people I have hurt grievously. The worst thing about these graves are that so many of them are unmarked. These are those of strangers to whom I have been less than kind, impolite or mean at various times in my life. There are some who walk around wounded still. These are the o

I am sure Your face would have begun To share tales of times passed by. A couple of those smile lines That now give you company Were originally planted with love Possibly by I I have captured you in 22 pictures Each frozen in time Each forever mine. Someday Should you wish to see yourself Through my eyes I will share with you my wallpapers In there, you always wear a smile And there are no lines. From Life in a Multiverse

Raj, you need to know things about me that I have never told you. It will be easier for you to manage me that way. I hate lizards, they give me the creeps and they always stare me down. If you have lizards in your kitchen, there is no way I will do the cooking! I love to cook but not everyday. You need to take me out once in a while. Maybe once a month. I love long drives and I am not a shopaholic. I shop rarely and don't spend much. But I would love you to take me out shopping and tell me which dress to wear, what color what fabric. I wear westerns, I hope your parents won't object. Its just that I never wore salwars. And Raj, though I come across as someone strong and sure, I feel terribly low at times and find it difficult to take decisions. You need to help me when I am down. You sleep at 10 and I at 11. I hope you will not want to change that. I will read something while you sleep. And you know what... I love to sleep naked (blush blush), entwined and huddled. You don'

Raj...what is "Time"? Hmmm...why do you ask me stupid questions. I am not Aristotle! Honey, please answer this one for me please, I am a little muddled in my mind. Time is that which passes between a beginning and an end. It can be measured by peeling off pages from a calendar or stupidly counting the number of times your watch repeats its stupid movements. But what if there is no beginning and no end. How will you define Time for things with no beginning and no end? They are timeless. Thank you Raj. You are my Plato.

Life exhausts itself at a pace beyond my control. I have been dancing to heavy metal for too long. I think it is time for a slow dance. The night sky shows whatever stars my city can afford to show me, they are not many. No, I cannot hear the whirring of the universe, the honking horns probably drowns them. No, I do not have too many people who would take my call at this hour, there is just you and my landlord who will probably be drunk by this time. I know it is late. I know I could have given you some advance notice. Yes I know there is no one to feed the fishes. Yes I know that two bags of laundry is pending. Yes, I understand that the neighbors will be very curious as to where you are going at this hour. It will only take an hour. If you want, I will drop you back as well. Don't worry I will return on my own. No, it can't be done at your place. Your terrace is locked and there are too many high rises around your apartment. Yes, ten minutes with me. Yes I do. I promise I wil

http://www.adhousebooks.com/misc/gallery.html Yes. I am busy most days. Yes. I don't have what you would call a life. I have not gone to a pub in the last five years. Never taken a four day break, except to attend a wedding or a funeral. I do not have a passport and I do not want to travel to Europe our Dubai. I only read FB and rarely seed FB. The only time I spend on doing anything other than working is writing and yes I know, I am selfish and I write because it gives me an alternate sense of identity. I am a small fry, a nobody. I know that when I die of stress or heart attack or brain hemorrhage, I will not be called a martyr by my Board of Directors. No resolution will be passed to install my half butt near the parking lot. No sparrow poop for me either! All I will do is proudly go and stand in queue of millions of dead donkeys with broken backs in heaven. And bray my prayers loudly to neutered angels who can't probably play substitute to dear lass Sunny Leonne. And now do

I cannot promise you that I will be the best thing that will happen to you. Life is not a never ending circus, it has its ups and downs. And between the shows, I have heard that there is much hard work. When the curtains go up, i will be your favorite clown, dancing around you and trying to make you laugh.  And when the lights are down, I will be there to tend to your swollen feets, massage your shoulders and wash away your makeup. I will make your bed and hush you to sleep. And I will always find you beautiful.