Time (II)

What is god?
Too many forms, some bygone?
An invisible intolerant world code
gone horribly wrong?
They asked.

I thought in time,
of time -
time that runs
time that stops
time that screams
time that gleams
time that climbs
time that times
time that simply refuses to flow
time that eventually lets go
time that talks
time that sings
time that seals
time that steals
time like the moving joy of love
time like the tearing grief of pain
time like a flurry of hope
time when you desperately cling to scope
time that holds
time that rolls
time that stabs
time that wraps
time that drills
and time that kills
time that kneels
and time that heals.

Like time,
I said,
that exists,

somewhere...everywhere!

(PS - Works best when read aloud!)

Summary!

Take
------sugar
and taste it,
------some spice
and swallow it,
------a pinch of salt, quietly,
and polish the mouth,
------some freshly cut chillies
and lay them on your tongue;

when someone stares with weight,
for a quick summary and no time to wait,
dont think, dont look around, mate,
simply shrug, recapitulate and state,
"Oh! I just ate, ate, ate and ate!"

PS - I guess the problem with getting to the point is that you kinda miss several 'pointless' points that might very well be the real points! :P

Time (I)...

is a walkie talkie
between points of age
and like invisible threads of soft connection,

it transmits
transports
transcends
bouts of you
about you
in orbits that are
shapeless,
seamless,
shadeless,
speedless,

silently, soundlessly, sheepishly seeking the timeless!

PS -
aani jaani, hai kahaani, bulbuley si zindgani, banti kabhi bigadti, tez hawa se ladti bhidti...

When...

"when does it happen,
that the you and me phenomenon
that always sat discretely on the couch,
separate backsides backing each other
like blooming flowers stemming from a vertex,
transforms itself into a we form?"

i thought of my posture
right there,
looked around between
air and airlessness,
breath and breathlessness,

"when smells smell each other and start seeing each other!"

Cleaning up!

"Pack your things, get them off my side," he said. "And yeah, please dispose off what's not needed...dont allow me the privilege of doing the honours."

She scoffed.

Discussions around sensitive topics, often have insensitive repercussions. Havent we seen that before? Talks on relativity...not sensitive. Talks on relative importance...sensitive. Talks on relative importance of someone else over you...uber-sensitive. Death of talk post that...insensitive! Most things fade away at the point of insensitivity.

"I need them all," she muttered. "I'll pack them though....by myself...its not like I've never done that before anyways!"

"Hmmm!" he pretended to think hard. "Sorry...cant remember when you ever did!" He began cleaning his shelf. Space....ah! thats one good word!

She ignored him. Paper bags. Five layers of books. How many more to fetch? Transporting them...uff! thats another task! She surely did not need the yellow paper back course material. She packed them in one bag. And then, there were the final level prep books; those wouldnt be of much use either. She put them aside separately in another bag. Several more bags were stacked together. She was still left with some...those that she had bought in her teens or when she was younger. She opened them one by one...smelled them...read those one-liners that several friends had written. Nostalgia! Smiles!

And he had seen her read them earlier...as a child. Girly books! Why cant women be real?

She looked around for another bag.

"Use this shelf," he looked around matter-of-factly. "Should I arrange all of them, here?"

She smiled to herself and then wiped it off consciously. She looked up, with forced sternness. "Hmmm...not like I've never managed in the past though....by myself." she said, handing him the paperbacks, one by one!

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…