Commute

I am happy, committed, loved, content. Yet something stirs in me when I leave the train.

The train, full to its maximum capacity, struggling to make its way through the hustle of the day, works hard like some people I know. It’s a no-sleep life. Extra load on top, people hanging on the sides for their dear life, men spitting everywhere – the train starts with a grumble, and leaves without another look. People sit inside mindlessly. It’s just another day of the same old stuff: my hour-long commute, seeing strangers again, tolerating the stuffiness and stench, hearing some personal stories and unnecessarily loud drama, getting off to another platform. No turning back. There’s no time for that. We have to move, push, shove into the next phase, the next scene. It’s chop-chop in here; there’s no time to stop.

My POV:

I stand there, my world slowing down to one heartbeat. I feel like a fish in a desert. Am I the only one? I look around fast and new people have already rushed to replace me. Doors shut with a slam and that kind woman whose baby I adored will soon forget my face. With pleasure, I existed for 40 minutes – made love to that space of vibrant life, lived those stories I saw and yet once I stepped away, I am alone in this station. The train has filled me with a void of hopelessness and cold winds slap me as it pulls away and leave me here. I stare in disbelief. Sometimes I think: I left my heart in that train, I wanted to make them family and promise to be home again but unfortunately I’m left with nothing. At the end of the ride, I’m “just another stranger”. Humanity has closed its doors on me and moved on, stranger.

I wish that every time I saw the train leave, I didn’t feel betrayed. But I always look at it, shocked. How can you be so alien when once I was so intimate with your beauty? I feel small in this large world of mindless connections. I wasn’t made for this. I never will be.

~~~

Ah! It’s so nice to have written something again!

For the past few months, every time I started writing, I couldn’t stay with my emotion and finish the piece. This was really bothering me but hopefully now I’m back on track. See you soon!

Advertisements

Winter says,

IMG_20170112_205838_784.jpg

My fingers feel flowers;

Rusted swing chains;

Standard, pale, blue poles;

The touch of people who stay,

But they return to emptiness.

I walk along city streets

And broken pavements which

Water conversations for two

But the darkness is haunting.

The moon asks me for you.

I remember those rough hands;

Lines that gave you the freedom to fly.

I remember travelling over them,

Seeing my world within their grasp-

With dreams to hold and a future

Too beautiful to be mundane at all.

“Where are you, darling?” again,

The winds whistle to me.

I look at the stars, the deep blue sky

Ceilings seem too far-I don’t know why

My hands are clueless, catching misery.
Lines blurry, confused, craving, today.

“But wait for the interval!” I fervently say.

The lens will show me scaling, anon!

Threads will hold each other tight and

Rush to make rough, familial vines,

You watch! I’ll sail over winds and oceans.

I’ll chase the sun! I’ll befriend the trees.

The moment winter enters my skin,

Telling me, “Open your eyes and

Just see yourself awake, for once.”

~~~

Inspired by the movie La La Land! 🙂

A letter for the love of my life

I wish forgetting you was like cleaning an easy stain on my favourite shirt,

But you don’t stop the affect like a good stain.

You’re more like the dark rectangle on my wall where that photo frame once was:

Impossible to merge with the present.

The dust on the bookshelves reminds me of the beautiful care in you

And so does the empty bed.

You never forget to leave an impression, don’t you?

 

You always had that style

Ruling over my heart in college too

You stained my soul with love.

Once there, painted all over with colour

Marriage, kids, living together.

 

People look at me today like a sad old man subject to life’s miseries

But darling I still have that poetry in me you would love.

I still go to Natural’s for a midnight treat but now I order only one scoop,

I wish you were there to finish another

I promise I wouldn’t have complained like I usually did when you were here.

I wish you could come back

 

Here I am, doing it again,

I told my doctor I wouldn’t wish unreasonable things:

For you to be back and for me to be the same without you.

Sorry.

 

So, getting to the point.

I’m writing in memory of the lovely girl with whom I aged and faced life.

The girl that showed me how wonderful life can get

Even when it just doesn’t seem to get any better

I’m promising her that I’m going to respect that and learn from it

I’m going to fight depression and stop being a cliché

(We never liked the mainstream anyway.)

My days are still as tinted with you

As they were before.

I still love you and forgive me for talking about trying to remove your stain.

Your stain is in the deepest part of what makes me the person I am.

Your stain is a reminder of beauty-

Impossibly pure beauty- that once garnished my life.

Yes, I have become a romantic as you suspected I would

(Remember when I would laugh at cheesy posts like these? Well, life pays back.)

And I thank you for that.

 

Yours forever.

 

(I’m still jealous that you got to know what death is like, before I did

And yes, yes, I will stop flirting with the young lady that stays across the road:

I never meant anything serious,

She still misses your morning chai.)

 

~~~

Inspired by the emotions of the main character in the movie ‘Madaari’, for his lost child.