Tag: india

Daughter

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I don’t know what it is to be a daughter
They say that blood runs thicker than water
But why is it that I feel no ties?
I look at my mother and I see it in her eyes
The pure, unconditional love she bears
I know ‘motherhood’ has been glorified for years
Their sacrifices becoming not a choice but a consequence.
Yet unmistakably I’ve seen love in her, hence
Her love must make me a daughter?
There have been days when I have thought her
Love for me was misplaced, a mistake
Because despite my desire to reciprocate
I’ve let my heart be an impassive stone
Despite her love, I have felt alone.
My father does listen to what I have to say
But smiles at my concerns, at the end of the day
I’m not the older son whose advice holds sway
And not until my brother had to move away
Did I become my father’s right hand
Despite a daughter, (almost) a dependable young ‘man’.
I was twelve when one day I served him tea
Without being asked to, and he
Smiled sweetly and said “It’s great
You’re finally learning how a daughter should behave.”
What it is to be a daughter I don’t know yet
I’m putting together pieces from the society’s set
Of rules and do’s and don’ts I can find
So that one day I can have my peace of mind.

There’s nothing new under the sun

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There’s nothing new under the sun
There’s nothing new about my pain, longing, love
Nor in my desire to be unique.
There’s nothing new in my poem,
When I say I’ve been blue to have missed you
Red to have kissed you
Black to have forgotten you and myself
I’m only rewording what I’ve said
Maybe a hundred years ago,
Even a thousand, who knows?
The gnawing hunger in my mind
To compose the poem to end all poems
To create it all and consume it all-
Is a spectacular piece of comic nonsense
I laugh, louder and louder till my lungs bitterly burst
And I’m finally empty again-
A quill with no ink
A blank word file
A waste of time.

Will you be mine to keep?

ahonarcLeave a comment 
I’m well aware of the stupidity of ‘falling in love’
Text, talk, date and mutual disappointments-
We’ve all been there, done that.
This time, let’s go all the long way to forever
I’m tired of having to stitch my heart again on my sleeves, love,
I’m too tired to mope around and weep,
Look at my eyes while I ask with a smile,
Will you be mine to keep?
 
If you wish so
I’ll take a break from my prosaic presence.
Let me whisper into your ears-
 
Oh my dear, you’re a sacred dream
The only God at my altar, my only King,
The strength of your ardent soul’s embrace
Exhilarates me in unspeakable ways.
Your smouldering eyes beckon me to stare
We look deep in our hearts, and our souls are laid bare.
Roses bloom as our fingers intertwine,
I become yours and you become mine-
 
Or, wait, are you too smart for my art?
Or too broken perhaps.
Sweet words sound soothing,
But I know too well, don't I?
How swiftly they lose their sweetness
And turn into twisted jokes,
Reverberating in the empty chambers of the heart at 3 a.m.
When I end up inevitably alone
When the darkness is quiet, and everyone’s long gone
Only the moon shining down on me through the window
Softly caressing me and my pain.
So, I ask again,
Before I tie up my heart and lock it to sleep,
Will you love me whole,
Will you be mine to keep?

Small talk

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“How was your day?”
.
.
In the mornings
When my mother starts her day in the kitchen
And my father looks for the newspaper
All I want is an excuse.

An excuse to pause the day, even before it has begun.

“Halt!” I say to Mr.Time.
Mr.Time wears a suit and a tie
With glasses as thick as icecubes
Perched on his rigid nose.
He slaps me hard and shouts like a war general
“Yes,Sir!”
I come back to my senses.

The day goes on and on and on
Like a thriller movie in slow motion,
Devoid of background music.
Deja vu
Every moment a facsimile of some other one.

There’s a cadence to monotony
If you have the ear for it.
Sometimes I do, don’t you too?

Before long, I get lost
In other worlds freshly manufactured
Where facts don’t matter,
Mr.Time is banned,
And I am free.

But I’m no God, no Creator Almighty
My thinly framed bubbles of thoughts
Fade away like half-remembered memories
Oh so quickly
Poof! And I’m back again.
Nothing makes sense yet, but at least
I’m back to my senses.

Ringing voices vibrate in my ears
Boys grinning with their mouths wide open
Girls leaning onto each other
Tearing up into giggles.
The dusky sky and the dazzling streetlights
Coexist with different ideals of beauty
I keep my eyes open
For every sight.

We call it a day.
I make my peace with Mr.Time
He smiles at me like a benevolent captor
I smile back.
.
.
“My day was great, how was yours?”

Lose yourself

ahonarc1 Comment 
 Lose yourself
 To the winding roads under the foggy skies
 Where the mountain kisses the sun,
 The trees flirt with the wind
 And the pebbles fall in love with the flowers
 Not to be loved in return;
  
 Lose yourself
 To the city
 And it’s overlapping streets, lanes, alleys
 Houses cuddling together
 Bricks and cement infused in love
 Slender skyscrapers trying to be mountains
 But never stealing a kiss from the sun
 As the pollution brews smoke in the sky;
  
 Lose yourself 
 To the pages
 That can take you anywhere
 Anytime
 Where you become the lover and the beloved
 The hero and the villain
 Where you can live a thousand lives
 By a magic called language;
  
 Lose yourself
 To music
 Where you can feel a thousand emotions
 And know how the pebble felt when the daisy died in its arms
 Or how a hero dreams
 A villain lives
 A lover cries
 A human feels;
  
 Lose yourself
 To me
 Or I’m afraid
 I’ll lose myself
 To you.
ahonarc1 Comment 
On some days, I close my eyes-
And it becomes a summer evening.
I laugh and smile like only children can afford to,
Fresh green grass tickles my tiny bare feet.
I sit on the swing, my eyes steadfast on the golden sky
Gearing up to reach as high as I can
To outdo my brother
Who got bored of swinging
And is now playing football in the other half of the park.
The evening smells like dirt,
Sounds like mosquitoes,
And feels like a breeze.
As the sky turns into ink,
Birds begin to hurry like pedestrians in a busy city,
Returning to their nests;
And the two of us return home
To watch some cartoons,
Have some snacks,
And fight over both.
 
On some days, I close my eyes-
And I’m in a classroom
Blue walls, blue desks, grey floor and a blackboard
A trail of words leaving the teacher’s lips
And going straight out of the window like unruly toddlers crawling too fast;
Every head is either dozing off or buzzing with mischief.
A girl secretly holds her boyfriend’s hands under the desk
And everyone within a three meter radius
Throws them a knowing smirk.
Five minutes till recess- becomes a reason enough to be stupidly happy
Although my friends and I have only been playing games,
Cracking jokes, and doodling all over
The precious last pages of the notebook.
The long-awaited bell rings loud and clear,
Followed by an epidemic of smile and relief.
 
On some days, I close my eyes-
And I don’t want to open them again.
Everyone seems out of reach
Every situation, out of hand.
I open my eyes and shut them again
To remember the times
When the world wasn’t upside down to me
When happiness was so real that I could almost touch it
When I was enough for myself.
Maybe I still am-
There’s a breeze outside
The birds still return home tweeting goodnight
And the bell hasn’t rung yet
All I can do is keep scribbling on the last few pages of my notebook
And everything will be fine.

Perfection

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Freeing up my heart and soul
I drink joy from your eyes
Flying past my darken days
I soar across the skies.

I’ve met you in all my dreams
We’ve held our hearts as one
You are me, I am you
Our days have just begun.

Don’t lose hope, I love you,
You’re the perfect me
I’ve searched for you everywhere
You have set me free.

Mirrors on the wall don’t know
Perfection is false
Stop looking for ideal selves.
We’re human beings, not dolls.

I don’t look for you anymore
I now know I am you
Imperfection is the perfect choice
The rest is all untrue.

Music

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Stop the goddamn music
Just stop it.
No I don’t want to dance
My body rejects your happy beats
The lyrics don’t talk to me
Who are they made for?

My ears have been fed with generic
Western music
Bollywood
Bengali songs
And every time you play a song
My linguistic identities change.
Who the fuck am I?
In what language do I love?
Or exist?

English is too formal
A dress which I once borrowed for a day
And never returned.
Hindi is an ornament I bought for myself
Only worn on special occasions.
Bengali? It was always with me
Restricted reach, taken for granted
Nothing too special.

I’m sorry
It’s not your fault that
My ears are repulsed
By every tongue I know
Since I know not which one is mine.

They say
Learn the language of love
What the fuck is that, pray?
I’m sorry I’m angry
At myself, really
Confusion is choking me
That’s the only sound I hear.

Did you put on another song?

Thanks for holding my hand.
I used to be bored by instrumentals,
I never knew
That’s how music truly speaks.
Perhaps,
I don’t need a language anymore.

I wished I were like you

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I wished I were like you
Long haired, dreamy eyed
Graceful like a princess
Always smelling like a garden
Your chocolate complexion
Beckoning the sun to shine upon your skin.
I can look at you for hours
Would you mind?
No, you wouldn’t
You’re too kind to shun me.
Even though I offer bland company
You smile at my attempts to make you grin.

I wished I were like you
Your dewy face lighting up with glee
Always chirping like a little bird
Hopping in circles
Among your vast group of friends.
They adore you, and so do I,
Desperately wanting to be your chum.
Have a place for a boring mate?
I wish I could tell you
How stunning you looked
When you dyed your cropped hair blue.

I wished I were like you
A cool guy never losing his calm
Compassionate but funny
Tall, charming and goofy
Always entertaining your buddies
And stealing girls’ hearts.
I admire you
Your look of not-a-care-in-this-world
Careful not to brandish your deeds of help.
A true gentleman
A real friend.

I wished I were like you
Everyone knows your name
The gem of our college
Excelling in every sphere
How do you manage?
Guitar, basketball, debates
Even elocution and drama
You are everywhere, man.
It’s intimidating, honestly
But it must be great being you
A blessed amalgamation of virtues
You’re an example to follow,
My mother is proud that I am your classmate.

I wished I were like so many others
People I know
People I don’t
People I imagine.
Oh how I wished I were not me.

It’s different now,
Now that she has told me
She wished she were like me.
She, who I thought was the happiest soul,
The embodiment of perfection.

The grass is always greener on the other side.
You can’t escape yourself,
Because you aren’t meant to.

Winter

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What will you do
When the youth of your body
Leaves,
Like a cruel gorgeous maiden
Who never cared for her lover

What will you do
If your experiences tire you
But never bloom into wisdom;
Your dandelion hair
Shedding
Every time you sigh

What will you do
If nobody cares
As you descend-
Rather, drown
Into your second childhood
Cheating on your diabetes diet
Sucking on mango seeds
Over and over
Like a greedy baby

What will you do
When one sudden morning
You catch your mind running slow,
Buffering every other minute
Yet not slow enough-
You can still observe
The annoyance it causes
To others
Their attention span getting shorter every second

What will you do
To hide your pain
When the shopkeeper screams-
Justifiably, you tell yourself,
It’s another day
Of forgetting the hearing aid

What will you do
When phone calls make you jump
Dreading
Who it is this time
Anxiety chewing aloud on your miserable mind
In the silent funeral

What will you do
When you can’t escape
The necessary noise of daily soaps
Reality TV
And hours of meaningless news
To fill the void
In your days
Evenings
Nights

What will I do
When I wither away in winter
Even though I never knew
How to blossom in spring?