The Week After....

You wake up with a strange taste in your mouth
Empty bottles outside with rested tempest inside

You've been transported somehow

Spilled ash marks your track
You get up with a busy head, trying to make sense
Silence follows...then a smile...then silence.

The next day you wash it off
You go out to get fresh air into your lungs
To get fresh sights into your head
You bump into smiles and confusion, again.

For days, rain follows you wherever you go
And so does a confused smile.
You love rain
And you cherish the smile.

It comes and goes
As and when it pleases itself
Slowly dissolving into time

Aren't you glad you have a bad memory?
Aren't you glad you'll soon be forgetting everything?
Aren't you glad your conscience is clear?

Then, how come you're not smiling anymore?

Q & A

Q. Love, do we find it or does it find us?

A. It finds us.

Q. What do you do when it does?

A. You duck and run.

Hey!

Let's make this one count.

Shimla

06/09/08-07/09/08

Beautiful.
Painful.

Sun slipped itself behind the clouds...

Inside, the plot lines dissolve
Glued to their coffee windows

Outside, dews drop off
Smell of first wash down

Never more unwelcome
The silver lining.

This day, that year....

It was about this time two years ago that I befriended a person whom I knew would dissolve into time. Crooked sense of humour, photogenic eyes and an infectious laughter. Perfect. But well, guess what...didn't last. And being me, I let it sink into oblivion. Until yesterday when an upheaval in the mildest of senses resurfaced a few patches of 'this day-that year'.

The song of waves, crashing against rocks, echo in my ears from hundreds of miles away. I'd like to believe that the nostalgia ends here.