Soumya Scribbles...

There is a lot of truth in a parabola. No two souls at either ends are equi-distant. Sometimes too close, at times too far, we are. Some say, acceptance is one form of resignation! I believe, its to know when we need to take the parched leaf out of the book and remember how to forget; vice-versa. Life is too direct for an abstract figure or may be an opulent realization.   So, our little moments of truth hide and seek and lie and die    somewhere near the rear window, the broken chairs and the old books and granny's mahogany bed. In these points, where facts and figures and favours and follies intermix- boil- burn- vaporize and condense again, You get back life, unaltered. Need not you say, philosophies are born where one looks up to the sky for a daylight and the Sun is eclipsed, just then! SoUmY@ [Little moment of reckoning this! :) ]

Perhaps there is more to life than a blunt punctuality, that is mine. I have always come early but been late. In a life where I never intended to intrude in your sensitivities always fearing that , oozing is inevitable when its me, I have waited sheepishly. Haemocyanin- blue blood, oh its mine. Like the improper misplacement above, I have waited and drenched in rain just to feel what is it to be close to you. Have spent sleepless nights Just to know how pure is the Sun That touches you first. Today, as you tie a bolder knot With the one who could say before (and me? nay ever) I will be there, mute, Silently waving at your graceful departure and wish, if for once you do the cliche ', Turn back and smile, perhaps. Even if you do, I promise, you won't see how an ice drowned and choked in its own fate. Can we reverse the moment and never let it melt? SoUmY@ [No more complexities for today. Just a blunt and simple life. :)]

Entwined in the heart are I and You. Let us lock them up in the closet today and watch her , him and them. Let us talk about lazy crows, dead fish, a wet metro or hustling bazaar. I for once (err, I was to put in the s(h)elf) will choose that hawker boy who sells roses and buys his dreams, We buy dreams and sail our romance - We complement them. Then you for twice can select your prey in the old age homes. Look, there in the balcony, that sorry old lady. We are together, still counting stars They are so alone and tired of stars - They contradict us. In this com-n-con game, we watch as I and you come out of locked worlds and mix in the crowd of her , him and them . They say, "its an illusion that you are different. We have but one life" SoUmY@

The tender memories have long been terrified and quiet under your harsher overtones. Smiles and giggles have hid under our pillows that has designer covers with many a sobs of mine carefully washed. Artificial smiles, socialites' parties, a theatrical performance each day, happy photographs, innocent make ups - All of them I have obeyed- dutifully, gracefully, being yours, your own. And I have seen life change in the eyes of a pessimistic kaleidoscope that never had a coloured glass inside. At night, you crawl No, NO, you happily trespass on to the soul you legally claim and never realize a void that exists between You and me. As the darkest of empathies coil up within me on some nights, That same vacuum takes shape of a Unborn child that I have so dearly wished and you have denied, on timeless times. Oh, you have taught me to hate myself. So tonight, before you think you can choke me to death, I don't want to read aloud Yet another average verse that bleeds and cares not ... ....

And I still have the petals parched inside the pages that had the scent of your skin. It dies each day, so do I... ...from memories to dust. Tonight I gift you what love had alloyed but failed. An iron-y of us. SoUmY@

I have played with life. Whimsically I found it shaped sometimes squared, a bit spherical, is it? Oh no, you see an undefined orbit. On that squarish route, My life has been squeezed to insignificant volumes. Fame, success, caustic lights- They allure me in different domains. I wonder if there is too much of me in my words or so much of I. An I for an I - the world revolves around an ellipse. Sometimes too close to life and too far when you wish... In this pattern which follows disorientation, Comes the knowledge, hence the realization and awaits a human in their shadows, Owning them. Life, as it is, wouldn't have ever been the same if there were definitions of you and me. So I say, must you agree (?) we make rooms square To embrace surety. ...the Earth is round! SoUmY@

Tonight Let's meet in our dreams. Let's hold hands gently Your palm into mine, delicately ours. We will traverse the mountains over the clouds that pour in with fertile rains. We will walk past the night till we see the first rays of a crimson Sun. Purity - oh, how I have longed for you! Let me recount those empty spaces before and after __ us __. I will recite them today, audibly. We will cross the waves once. On the sea shore where our memories lie embraced, I will take fistful of sands And never let it out, as if you are there, inside, Fragmented in completion. You can talk about a life lost I will dream within a dream. Imperfect be our poetry We can still rhyme in the realm. Let's not keep our old eyes open dear. I have heard, tonight we will love each other anew, in our dreams. SoUmY@