If I could, I would - II

Click here to read the Part - 1


"You are early today. "

He says, not exactly meaning it to be a question.

It takes all my will power in that split second, to stop myself from replying with a "It’s none of your business, is it?"

I can almost see Ma shaking her head in disapproval, annoyed to see her daughter acting so rudely.
Instead, I go on auto-pilot. My eyes meet his, I smile, nod and then, I turn back towards the road, hoping that he will get the message.

When did I become like this?

Why have I become so cynical that every unnecessary conversation seems to be a direct path to confrontations?

Having to draw a boundary so that no stranger becomes a part of the routine.

No saying "Hi" every day. No talking about weather. And certainly no explaining if and why I am early on any day. The freedom of walking away from people and relationships.

There is disappointed idealist behind every cynic, they say.

Why do I run away from even the slightest hint of a bond?

It has been ages, yet, I can still hear someone say - "when was the last time a stranger broke your heart"
Strangers indeed don’t break your heart, as long as they stay strangers. He wasn’t a stranger. And see where I am today. I wait, I will for the phone in my pocket to ring.

I wish, I pray that he would call. Just to hear that voice again. Even though ...

Have you ever had your heart broken by someone you can’t bring yourself to hate? Even when they scar you for life? make you wary of everything you get attached to?

Have you ever loved someone so much, that all you can remember is the rhythm of their heart beating as they hold you in their arms.

The actual feeling of their being? Being able to just close your eyes and trace them with your fingers? Even when years have gone since you sat next to them...

Why is it that we can’t bring ourselves to stop loving someone even when we hate them for showing us exactly how vulnerable we are, we were.

Some say love needs sacrifice. Sacrificing our wish for someone else’s.

But is there anything that can be termed as sacrifice?

All we make are choices. Sometimes we like to sugar-coat them, calling it a sacrifice.

If I am ready to give my life for someone, then obviously I would rather have them living than myself. How can it be termed a sacrifice?


You are willing to stay hungry to feed your child, because that makes you happier.

A soldier dies for his country, because his honor is dearer to him.

We are selfish to our cores.

We always do what we ultimately want to do.

Breaking someone’s heart, or getting our broken.

If I was writing a story, I would make myself shed a silent tear. But then, crying is so damn tough. Blessedly, the skies open up and rain comes lashing. I hear people scrambling to get under the meagre shades.

I stay put, feeling the heavenly droplets washing away the death off me. Death of a part that will always be mine, even when it starts festering

Still wishing for the phone to ring with that familiar tune.

Still wishing I could call.

But then, if I could, I would...



To be continued ... soon... or may be not...
=====================

©2010 by Chhaya. All Rights Reserved

PS: kindly read this just a piece of writing. Nothing personal about this one :)... and yes, the image is googled.

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If I could, I would

Can you go back to the day when the life was going through the biggest change… yet it all used to make sense?

Can dreams be broken? Do they ever shatter, in pieces as fragile as the virgin snow? Do they melt away when you try to hold them on your fingers?

Do you ever know how the day is going to end when you leave home in the morning? Do you ever really know someone?
One word, one breath – one drop of rain can change everything.
Everything.

It’s still too hot. I have never been a fan of Delhi’s extreme winter, but the summer is something I really hate.

If only it would rain. Right now.

But its here to stay. Few more months and then I will have the lesser of the two evils. Or will I? What is keeping me in this city? Did I find what I came searching for? Or did I lose whatever I already had?

If only god would give me one sign. If only he would tell me what to do. Oh! I am so tired, but the day has just begun.

If only it would rain today....

I stand and wait for the bus. The bus stop is almost deserted. Hummmm, its only 7:30 in the morning. Not everyone is too fond of starting the day so early. Oh yes, that guy is. We take the bus together every morning, but we never talk.
I don’t know him. Not at all.

But do we ever know someone? You may spend your whole life with a person, thinking that he was just an extension of your own soul, but after years, you find a side to him that makes him a complete stranger.

How long does it take to know a person?
One day?

One month?

One year?

Forever?

Do you believe in the word “soulmate”? For god’s sake.. its not even a word.. My spell check so nicely marks it with a red worm...

What do you do when you find a lie, woven into the fabric of trust?

Do you try to pull it out? Do you try to rip it off? But then, can you make yourself do it?

Destroy something that means so much to you? Or do you ignore the obscene spot, and wear it, as if you haven’t even noticed it?

What hurts more – a lie, told to keep you in dark, or the truth that was hidden by the person who means the world to you, to keep you close, save you from pain?

Aahh, forget it.

About the guy? Oh well, he will get off at the same stop as mine and then he will smile. A smile that I never bother to return. It’s too much of an effort – smiling.

Why is he looking so disturbed today? May be it’s the heat.

It’s got to be the heat…

If only it would rain. Thundering crazy rain. That is ONE sign that God can give, without disclosing his address.

The bus is here....


********

What gets you through a day? Work? Or the wait for the moment when you will be let off to go home to someone who would be waiting for you? Or someone you would wait for.

Have you ever waited for the work hours to be over just so that you can enjoy the time it takes you to reach the place you sleep at?

I must leave. Those crowded buses seem to be the place to find the perfect solitude. I look out of the glass window. The sky is getting dark. It’s not my usual time to leave… but what the heck…

The same road looks unfamiliar in the twilight. As unfamiliar as this city, even after years. The tiny cell-phone sits snugly in my back pocket.

Have you ever wondered how easy it is to talk to someone if you want to? But what do you do when all you want to share is the silence? Have you ever waited for someone to call so that you don’t look like someone who is ‘desperate’? Is it the Ego that stops you?

Or is it self-defence?

Have you ever longed to be with someone in this twilight – the time when the boundaries of the harsh day and the tranquil night are blurred? Have you ever felt your heart bursting with the desire to be with the one… just walking together on the pavement… sitting together – without having to talk?

To hold.. to be held… to hear the heartbeats …. to be able to feel?

Have you ever met someone like that? Does it hurt when you realize that they never belonged to you?

Do lies hurt you too?
Why do they hurt so bad?

Is it the shame of being a fool? Or is it the fact that you fell for your own fantasies?

Do we only see what we want to see?

Does it hurt when someone loves you so madly that they are ready to lie.. to keep you close…. but not enough to trust you with the truth?

What do you do when you stumble upon it? Do you confront? Or do you feel too scared… scared of breaking the bond that has become your life?

Do you live those lies? Do you pretend that nothing has changed? Do you start feeling guilty that you found what was supposed to be hidden forever?

Why is "Soulmate" a word with a red worm underneath it? Yeah, I am still thinking about it... it’s not even a word!!!! I feel like laughing till I get tears in my eyes.


If only I could get tears in my eyes.

Life and Love are the Four Letter Words .. created by God himself..

I smirk.

Walking to the bus stop was like a therapy.. but why do I wish that the guy was here? Yes, the same guy who takes the bus with me in the morning, well... he doesn’t return with me.

I feel so tired.. Maybe I will just sit on the steel bench.. I love them... Steel – my favorite. More dear than gold! Hah.. Stainless steel… do you know why it’s called stainless? Well, some other day.. just know that it’s “stain less” and not “stain proof” … I smile to myself.

Did I just feel a breeze on my face? Yes I did. It’s getting stronger. Clouds!

Ahhhh. Let me just untie my hair… let me ‘feel the wind in my hair’ as they say it. Let it fall on my face.

what a used to death cliché!


No, I won’t try to tuck it behind my ears like I always do. Most people compliment me for my long hair.. then why do I try to hide it? Why do I keep it tied up? What am I scared of?

The bus is here….
Should I catch it?

Let it go… another one will come.. let me just sit here…


Have you ever been lost, looking at something that does not exist. just sitting somewhere, your eyes unfocused, your mind in a trance..? Thinking about something that never was… something make-believe


Lies… all lies….


I feel someone’s presence before I turn my head to find that he is sitting right next to me. His face is still disturbed but he manages to give me a smile.


This is the first time that I notice that he smells great.
And this is the first time that I smile back…



Click here to read more ...


© 2009 by Chhaya. All Rights Reserved


===========================

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The Last Bus

Standing barefoot.
Barren, huge crossroad.
They say it stops here,
the bus you are on.

Clutching, the doll you gave me
on my birthday the year before.
I try not to stain it –
for my hands are
bleeding from the sores.
knees skinned to the bones shake a little
cruel, lonely it was –
the road from home.

Biting my lips, to stall the pain
burying my face in the doll –
there is still that smell of you
the fragrance of safety,
the mirage of childhood.
Inhaling,
just a bit.
Too greedy to save it all.

It starts to rain
and I feel so cold.
Proud, defying – waiting.
I stand my ground
not for victory but to
hide my shame.
The tears
drown me a bit more.
There is nothing left,
even my shadow is impure.

Its getting darker
the birds are all gone.
I watch other kids, just like me but –
jumping all the way to their homes.
Some stand and stare at my rags
laughing at my doll.
Mock my dirty feet -
but my eyes, they all ignore

And then I am left alone,
at the crossroads
just like the evening before.
I am scared now–
wont you come back for me?
the last bus from heaven,
doesn’t stop here anymore?

© 2008 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

I wrote this poem more than a year back. I didn’t have enough readers back then so I am re-posting it.

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Romance : under 100 words

“Grandpa! Grandpa! ”

“Yes Kiddo! ”

“Are you going to work? ”

“No Kiddo! I am retired now! ”

“Then why are you shaving? ”

He laughs.

“Dad only shaves when he is going to office. ”

Grandpa finishes shaving and picks me up. I touch his face. He has a few nicks. Must be his shaking hands.

“You don’t have to shave now Grandpa! You don’t go to work so no one will mind! ”

“Your Grandma will, little one. ”

He smiles.

=================================

© 2010 by Chhaya. All rights reserved

PS: this is the first instalment of a series covering various genres. I got the inspiration from Karthik’s blog! I will keep these writings less than 100 word long.

Image by Domenico Ghirlandaio (1490)

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Temptations

People do strange things when they are away from home. She was no exception. The girl hated sugar or milk with her coffee, but there she was, in a strange country, sitting with her feet tucked in, trying hard to keep warm with a steaming mug held in her hands.
She had roamed around the tiny kitchen, preparing it. Milk and sugar. Her mind, wandering. As usual.

Coffee... not the way she liked it.

Coffee... just the way she wanted it. Right at that moment.

Her eyes watering. Not with tears. She never cries. It was just the freezing wind. She was sitting in the open balcony. Fighting the cold. Refusing to get inside. Just another of her testing-my-will-power things. She wasn’t even aware of the fact that she was being stubborn.. it was a second nature. It was what kept her going. Yes. She is insane. Just kind of.

She takes the first sip... as if giving into some strange and exotic temptation. Hey eyes remain focused on something just above the horizon. It’s nothing.

A sigh. Inaudible. She forgot the sugar. Years and years of sugarless coffees can do that to you. Even when you wanna add some sweetness, you go for the bitterness.

Is it hardwired in our souls, running away from temptations? Anything and everything that feels nice? No?

What’s the biggest fear? Not finding something you were looking for... or finding it and then lose it. We have had generations brought up to the thought that the one who resists the temptation is a saint.

The one, who doesn’t give in, is the strongest.

Is it so?

Is she the strongest? Not giving in. Never giving in.

Don’t you think that the strongest person is the one who dares to trust? The one who gives in, tries to live the life to the fullest.. instead of building a fort around, keeping the elements away. Good or otherwise.

She thinks about getting up. She wants it. Her feet refuse to move.

Too much of effort for a bloody spoonful of sugar.

I don’t exactly need it.

Too many years spent on separating the needs from wishes.

Who makes the segregation? What is so different between the needs and wishes?

Her mind wanders again. The familiarity of the bitter coffee is reassuring. The thoughts of sweetness start to fade. She is content.

How many dreams have you given up on? How many chances have you let go? Of a life you wished for. Of a person you dreamt of.

How many perfect ending have you ran away from?

Why?

Settling for the second best. Settling for something that you never wanted... never wished for.

Why?

The perfection is elusive. Yes. It’s always a comforting thought, to know that it wasn’t the perfect one that failed you.

It’s easy to blame the second best.

It’s easy to settle for something less than your dreams. You get someone to blame.

There isn’t much coffee left in the mug now. She looks away from the horizon, down at her hands. The fingertips are all pink. It’s the cold. Too cold.

She takes another sip.

And the realization dawns ...

the sugar, now half melted, sits at bottom.
The sugar that she wished for.
The sugar that was always there.
Never stirred.....

The coffee is way too sweet now... She puts it away...

A sly grin dances on her lips....

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The Nightmare

One more day..
One more smile..
I live in that place, between
dawn and the daybreak.
Trying desperately,
to stall the time.
Stolen moments..
too fragile for dreams.
Wrapped in your arms,
watching you sleep

Shy, the rain giggles,
caressed by
the lovelorn wind.
I blush, watching
the lines of your face..
and the smile on your lips.
Your heartbeats,
talking to my fingertips.

Shadows rustle,
monsters insane.
Pulling me away,
from you yet again.
I close my eyes,
too scared to scream.
And then I feel you,
whispering so softly -
“Hush my baby,
it’s just a bad dream”

© 2009 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

This is my 25th poem on this blog (counting the haiku efforts as 1 poem). I was going to post a different one, but then thought that the silver jubilee thing shouldn’t be too dark. Thank you everyone, for being such good friends... This one is for you all...

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Just Friends

The smiles we shared
and some tears unshed.
´Just friends´
with a shrug of shoulders,
Always, we claimed.

My heart never stopped,
when you held me close.
It was bliss.
You were my home.
The extension of my soul.

Your thoughts never
made my nights sleepless.
Far away, in the darkness,
endless conversations.
Eloquent silence.

Losing you to the sense
of wrong and right,
isn’t the end of the world.
Then why to me
it feels like?

© 2009 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

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The Coward

Don’t take it away from me
this armour I have
made painstakingly
through the nights so lonely
with every moment I waited
for someone like you

Now that you are here
I am scared of
losing my heart
to the one made for me
You are too sacred
to be touched.
I am too greedy
to let go.

I don’t know why
I need this distance
am I scared of getting
my heart broken?
or is it your soul
I want to spare?
walking away from you
waiting for you to
pull me close
fighting your love
longing for the defeat

Will you know when I
fake a heart of stone
and see through the curtains of
my words so cruel?
will you read my eyes
and stay
or will you let me win
and wither away?

© 2009 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

i know this poem doesnt rhyme much.. this is how it was supposed to be

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Take My Breath Away

Okay.. so my last poem was a dud ... agreed. The story behind it is – someone reminded me of the fact that I was only writing about three topics..... so, I tried writing about the things I don’t exactly feel.. hence the disaster.

Psst Psst...what I am trying to say is – Blame Him! Not Me!

Atonement was close to my heart but The Glass Window was a faked pain. I guess that is even worse than faked pleasure.

Life or my lifestyle has never stopped me from getting soaked in the rain or getting my feet dirty. Playing with kids or sing along a corny Bryan Adams song like ‘Let’s make a night to remember’ ... I actually do every mad thing that comes in my mind. That includes talking to my pet fish and going out for ice-cream at midnight. (I guess it explains my insanely accident prone nature, but more about that later)

Anyways.. so, a few days back, I was in my ‘cocoon’ mood. You know, the days when you just don’t wanna talk to nobody (pardon my double-negative.. sometimes wrong things make the most sense). It hadn’t rained for more than a week. The evening was slightly lost in the heat of the day.

Was home alone so I did what I do when such an evening arrives. Made a big mug of coffee and then sat by the window. My building is in this huge residential complex with gardens and pools. There is a playground right in front and I could watch the kids playing. Everyone had a hankie tied to his face, what with the swine flu scare.

The coffee was awesome.. first two teaspoons of the newly opened Coffee jar without milk or sugar to corrupt it. Just pure tantalizing smell of individuality. Have you ever wondered how the Ad agencies target families with tea and individuals with coffee??
Hmmm.. heck.. I think too much..

So what happened was – the rain came lashing down on the parched earth and the air was completely fragrant with the smell of first rain.. second time in one Monsoon .. whoa!! .... My heart went - 'thud' and I was thrown back into my childhood.

Good smell has always been the biggest turn on for me after thunders and storms. May be it is because we tag those forgotten memories with them. I cant smell Old Spice aftershave without my mind going to my Dad.. Freshly made Roti (Indian bread) never fails to remind me of Mom.. Smell of coffee and new book go together reminding me of every moment alone...

Funny, the way smells instantly bring back memories.. some pleasant, some unpleasant.. some that you don’t even wanna acknowledge


Love
Chhaya

PS: the image is obviously googled

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The Glass Window

Children of the street
dance in the first rain,
Screaming with delight.
Barefoot and half naked.
Surrounded with the comfort,
of money and fame..
I steal greedy glances through
the impersonal window frame.

Safety of Grandma’s arms and
the beauty of her weathered face -
I am trying to remember,
fighting hard to forget.
Trapped in the addictive -
golden coffin of success,
I live my death
in tiny instalments.


© Chhaya
I forbid any comparison between Slumdog Millionaire and this poem... :

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Part II - Fact, Fiction...

New Delhi, evening of a random day in the month of August, a few years back

What gets you through a day? Work? Or the wait for the moment when you will be let off to go home to someone who would be waiting for you? Or someone you would wait for.

Have you ever waited for the work hours to be over just so that you can enjoy the time it takes you to reach the place you sleep at?

I must leave. Those crowded buses seem to be the place to find the perfect solitude. I look out of the glass window. The sky is getting dark. It’s not my usual time to leave… but what the heck…

The same road looks unfamiliar in the twilight. As unfamiliar as this city, even after years. The tiny cell-phone sits snugly in my back pocket.

Have you ever wondered how easy it is to talk to someone if you want to? But what do you do when all you want to share is the silence? Have you ever waited for someone to call so that you don’t look like someone who is ‘desperate’? Is it the Ego that stops you?

Or is it self-defence?

Have you ever longed to be with someone in this twilight – the time when the boundaries of the harsh day and the tranquil night are blurred? Have you ever felt your heart bursting with the desire to be with the one… just walking together on the pavement… sitting together – without having to talk?

To hold.. to be held… to hear the heartbeats …. to be able to feel?

Have you ever met someone like that? Does it hurt when you realize that they never belonged to you?

Do lies hurt you too?
Why do they hurt so bad?

Is it the shame of being a fool? Or is it the fact that you fell for your own fantasies?

Do we only see what we want to see?

Does it hurt when someone loves you so madly that they are ready to lie.. to keep you close…. but not enough to trust you with the truth?

What do you do when you stumble upon it? Do you confront? Or do you feel too scared… scared of breaking the bond that has become your life?

Do you live those lies? Do you pretend that nothing has changed? Do you start feeling guilty that you found what was supposed to be hidden forever?

Why is "Soulmate" a word with a red worm underneath it? Yeah, I am still thinking about it... it’s not even a word!!!! I feel like laughing till I get tears in my eyes.

If only I could get tears in my eyes.

Life and Love are the Four Letter Words .. created by God himself..

I smirk.

Walking to the bus stop was like a therapy.. but why do I wish that the guy was here? Yes, the same guy who takes the bus with me in the morning, well... he doesn’t return with me.

I feel so tired.. Maybe I will just sit on the steel bench.. I love them... Steel – my favourite. More dear than gold! Hah.. Stainless steel… do you know why it’s called stainless? Well, some other day.. just know that it’s “stain less” and not “stain proof” … I smile to myself.

Did I just feel a breeze on my face? Yes I did. It’s getting stronger. Clouds!

Ahhhh. Let me just untie my hair… let me ‘feel the wind in my hair’ as they say it. Let it fall on my face.

what a used to death cliché!

No, I won’t try to tuck it behind my ears like I always do. Most people compliment me for my long hair.. then why do I try to hide it? Why do I keep it tied up? What am I scared of?

The bus is here….
Should I catch it?

Let it go… another one will come.. let me just sit here…

Have you ever been lost, looking at something that does not exist. just sitting somewhere, your eyes unfocused, your mind in a trance..? Thinking about something that never was… something make-believe …

Lies… all lies….

I feel someone’s presence before I turn my head to find that he is sitting right next to me. His face is still disturbed but he manages to give me a smile.

This is the first time that I notice that he smells great.
And this is the first time that I smile back…

Click here to read the first part

© 2009 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

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Scream

Why can’t you see?
The wreck, that’s me
Waiting forever
For your love
Something surreal
That’s never to be

It hurts so bad
The pain that’s me
And I am tired
of false smiles
In front of you
Only thing that you can see

I wanna succumb to
The storm that’s me
And don’t even wish
to fix this pain
Soiled dreams
Broken myths

And I will burn it
Your shadow that‘s me
back to the truth
The harsh reality
Nothing is forever
Not even you and me

© 2009 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

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Cinderella

I feel the rhythm,
or is it your heart beating
sweet touch of an angel
gentle waltz of your breaths on my skin
its the breeze that made me shiver
or was it the fear in my heart?
I close my eyes, lean on you
wait for you to pull me close
wait for the warmth of your arms

bloody battles, I fought for you
let my armour drop
under the silver moon,
there is nothing to hide me – to protect
the clock strikes midnight, and I feel you
pushing me away, ever so gently
I fight. harder this time –
for I am fighting you – for you

“Its time for you to go” you said
and the dream is ripped at the seam
still, I want you to see
before the cold freezes me
I was never meant to be safe
my soul was your twin flame -
the peace was never for me
you are my unfinished sonnet

waiting forever
knocking at the door you closed
never leaving – fearing your pain,
if you ever,
decide to return
but my heart is dying now
and my soul is lost
in the sea of oblivion

Now that I am fading away
my heart, still yearns for you
I had in your arms-
Life, Death and the Judgment Day
its the final midnight
the darkness pulls me
the glass slipper doesnt fit anymore, my love
this Cinderella was never meant to be

------
© 2008 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

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Of Hope and Despair

It starts with a touch
Warm, lazy winter noon
You are near, somewhere
in my heart, in my soul
My eyes feel heavy,
the dream so tempting
Feeling your breath on my eyes
Tears unshed, ecstasy of suffering

Holding back,
wishes untamed
Waiting for the years
A moment a day
My fingers, feel your smile
and my heart feels your pain
You wish I would ask even though,
I know you can’t stay

Counting, clinging on to the moments,
before I let you go
Close enough for whispers
Too far to touch
And I wish, sometimes
In the moments of weakness
I wish I couldn’t hear your heartbeat
Wish I didn’t know what goes on inside


I hear you leave, before you let -
me out of your arms
The wind falls silent
tip-toeing in the distance
Shy twilight – scared to touch
Empty canvas
Darkness covers me for the ritual
Another night of frost

.................................
©Chhaya

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Glory

She denounces,
tempting shadows.
Burning scalding sky
Parched lips, mocking eyes

Breaths come in gasps
endless, frozen desert
She stands tall carrying
tombstone too heavy

Gaping wounds she ignores
Stubborn, she smiles
Time, destiny, morals, fate
Greedy vultures - salivate

She wears her sins
with love and pride
Heaven flashes its wrath
Helpless, Longinus cries

She opens her arms
claiming dark victory.
They kill her carcass
Soul infidel tells a story

© 2008 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

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The Perfect Lover

Waking up to the magic
tormented with the need
eyes still dreamy , in each fibre
of my being, I feel
Your smell, ever so divine,
kisses me softly
makes me go weak in my knees,
makes me smile


Desperate for your warmth
touching my lips so tender,
soothing my nerves
my heart beats, just a bit faster
You make me alive
melting the pain
the sun shines brighter
when you burn through my veins


My reflection told me,
it was meant to be
The color of my eyes,
always belonged to thee.
Ripped from the life
Burnt for pleasure
Crushed by the world
the pain sets us free


You give me shelter
through the days so cruel
and keep me alive
in the nights insane
I am holding you close,
as the moon washes over me
Is there a lover like you
my dear cup of caffeine?

© 2008 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

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Beyond the Sunset

Sitting by the ocean
of love and life.
Dipping my toes
scared of the tide.
Caressed by your voice
ever so gentle.
Setting me free
pulling me deeper.


Wild waves taunt
my lowered eyes.
And I think of that someone
who has your love tonight.
Holding you close
away from the world.
Through days of joy
and nights of laughter.

I wait forever
in smiles and tears .
Silent, helpless words,
but the heartbeat whispers
Your soul tells me
untamed as the sea.
beyond the sunset,
that someone is me.


© 2008 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

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The Darklings

Angry, the wind howled
I chose the frosty moonbeam, over
the raging fire, blessed by hell
my own twin flame

Banished in death,
I wandered the weathered land
Chained, cursed by your love
as dark as my sinful soul

My heart denounced me
tormented, by your betrayed eyes
Guilt ruled by the day,
reigned, mauled me by the night

Lonely, I treaded the moor
paralysed with the avenging ice
Devil didn’t claim me, my love
He knew without me, you can’t die

So here I am, watching you wither
with the pain that I gifted
Your dark eyes burn with passion
made sweet by maddening hatred

I stand by the heath
tired, soaked, shivering
near your window,
out in the blinding rain

I came home to you, torn
by the merciless wind.
Hold me in your arms forever,
Please let me in.


© 2008 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

Those who have read the "Wuthering Heights" will know that this poem is a dedication to Heathcliff and Catherine. For me, they define the word "Soul-mate"

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Charred dreams

He crawls, pleading eyes
Searching through,
Ashes, still warm..
as her touch, her smile.
Did she cry,
whispered his name.
He asks the tattered sky..
Silent- desperate.

Searching, did she pray..
For him to see..
Unshed acid tears
burning her skin.

Did the angels cry,
hearing her screams.
Bones so tender,
demons crushing.

Bleeding hands, he finds
her battered soul.
The charred sparrow,
Vacant eyes – frozen hope.

He washes her scars.
With tears and regrets..
the wind cries..
A child is dead.


© 2008 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

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Farewell

I carve out
my bleeding heart
it hurts bit more
as I laugh

pain
in your silence
burns me
in the rain

regret
in your eyes
cuts me deeper than
the deepest sea

fly away home
I set you free
as I pick up the pieces
of our dream

© 2008 by Chhaya. All rights reserved
PS: the image is googled

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