Time Zones!

Strong winds blew that night as gushes of air built themselves up over each other like flames of fire.
Some thoughts came by too.

She picked them up gently, as if they were light feathers, too frail to be touched yet too strong to be crushed. She let them only into some parts of her brain, disjoining them on purpose, so that they couldnt take over completely. How could he do that? She didnt care anymore, though.

He caught some winds too, by the window. The racing bus killed anything that wasnt strong. Basic physics right? Time. Speed. Distance. She couldnt have done that! He knew she knew something.

They gazed at the clock that ticked tirelessly.

5.15. She sighed.
10.30. He blinked.

Lies!

Will you
or will I
when you will
then will I
when I lie
will you lie
that you know not the lie
and then will I
lie down
to know if your lie
is
my lie
after me
or my lie
is your lie
after you?
 

Stills...

a yapping television
some trickling water droplets
clean plates on the side table
and newspapers lying hapless

sing songs of yellow fever
play games of scarlet checks
dance around in rhythmic motion
chop fine kung fu wrecks

while
the air
circulates
around all commotion,
circumvents
plastic drapes
kills rhyme in deep rest

and the mind
sits
splits
into half
and then half of half
and so on
separating
like wings under a shredder

that become
feathers ambulating in stillness...

Too many...

poly was a good word;

it was supposed to be a good word.

coz it stood for abundance,
multiplicity,
a movement of now to a new now,
several blobs of what could be
swaying in shimmering delight.

And then you came in,
with a prolific smile,
procedurally,
promiscuously,
parabolically,
a proverbial middle eastern 'poly',

and
I died of a tumour!

Two Sides!

I sat on the backseat of the three-wheeler
and it stared at me,
that photo ID
of who sat ahead
in khaki pants and a clairvoyant shirt,
some two streets away from where I stay
“Nagashettihalli”…
Same height, same width, same sight,
I thought,
when the smell of the other side
wiped wind around me aside
and I looked down at my phone
at time that needed to pass…

Focus!

"I'm okay with everything," he shook his head, "its quite natural to forget or misplace things. I understand. But jus that you could be a lil more careful...generally, you know." He drove watchfully.

"Hmmm," she said. She hated herself when she made a mistake. She hated herself more when she made a mistake and he didnt get angry. "I know!"

"But come on...don be over-critical," he said. "It takes time," he held her hand. "It took me time to remember to take the papers, to watch when I drive, to keep a tab on directions, to remember each cross-road to take like..."

"...like the one you just missed?" she smiled, twinkles in the eye overpowering dimples in the cheek. "Reverse maadi!"

Viewing points!

"'Rome wasn't built in one day' is a saying in English," she said loudly, pronouncing each word with emphatic nonchalance. "It means that it takes a lotttttt of patience, persistence, determination..." she paused for words, "...focus...conviction...to achieve something...you should give things, time".

"Mama, Rome is the capital of Italy na?" she quizzed. Images supercede imagination. Concepts, afterall, are products of logical imagination accepted by all. So it is thinking thats commonplace. But images are static descriptions that can be viewed differently. Sky, for example. You see it blue, light, tinted, pleasant, bright in the morning. I see it dark, black, but beautiful in its shining, starry, sparkling self. Sky, between night and day. Image, between you and me.

"Correct, darling," she answered, delighted. Memory during tender ages is a pleasant thing.

"So there are wooden tables there na Mama...by the streets...clean and sparkling...yellow flowers...fresh greens..." she quipped, eyes wide open. "And people dress up really nicely in Italy."

She was surprised. Perhaps, more curious than surprised. Television! Must Be! That's fine. "What else do they do?" she smiled, cleaning remains of food from her mouth.

"They talk fast fast Mama. Many many girls and boys. They don't stay apart like in school. They sit together like besttttt friends holding hands.  All happy happy." She sat straight. "When your happy and you know clap your hands...clap clap clap...I like going to Rome...its my favvvvvvourite place."

Hallucinations? Images supercede imagination?

"We're in India, kan, you havent gone to Rome, sweetheart..."

"We went there last Sunday, I played with the cheese plate..."

Huh?

"I dipped onions in red chutney...and you had wine..."

She picked her up and washed her tiny palms. "Little Italy" she smiled, as she carried her into the room.
"But those are biiiiiiiig girls and boys ok. They have finished school...and finished college...like Mama and Papa no...." she  began, as voices disappeared between time and space...and age!

PS - Main keh raha hoon kya, tu sun rahi hai kya, tu sun rahi hai kya, main keh raha hoon kya!