Transcending

A constant desire

For the conversation

To move beyond

The entirely banal

And into the

Emotional

Or spiritual

Or best

Into what is

Impossible to

Put into words

The measure of a marriage

I could tell you

How long they have been married

What each of them do

Who earns how much

And who they live with

And where

And that would tell you nothing

About the marriage

The marriage is measured

Not in such facts

But in moments,

In relationships

The relationship between

The number of times

The baby gets up at night

And the depth of redness

In the eyes the following morning 

(Yes it matters, Whose eye it is)

The number of yawns a partner takes

And the number of extra naps they get

The favorite returned with a number of

Unnecessary caresses

And the brightness of

The twinkle in the eyes 

In return

The number of coffee cups

Or teas or waters

That come in twos

Compared to the ones

That come in ones

And the hours spent

Stirring and stewing

The minutiae of life

That would bore

Anyone who is not them

To death 

Yes, these and more,

Are the measures of a marriage

And parenting

That are

Impossible to measure

By any means

(Inspired by, obviously,

Invisible cities)

Unhappy

In prisons

Of our own making 

Battered

Being battered by life

By the constant expectations

People put on you

And the constantly having

To give up

Your wishes

Bottling up 

Your feelings

And the result is

Not so bad after all

 It makes you

More humble

More empathetic

More socially skilled

More capable

And then you think

Perhaps this is necessary

To be a good person 

To grow up

To leave behind

Childish tantrums

Territorialness

Possessiveness

So that's how you justify it

Make peace with it

The constant battering

That life gives you

That's how you accept

With good grace

The new personality you get

Which comes at the price of

All that makes you

You

Everyone needs 

To be a good person

In this world, you say

You don't necessarily

Enjoy life 

In this new skin

But then who does?

You ask yourself

Aren't we all

Sacrificing ourselves

Adjusting

Compromising

At every moment?

Isn't this what

Adulting is?

Sigh. Peace.

But the peace lasts

Only a moment

Until you see a man

Who never had to

Submit to anyone

In that way

And so never learnt to be

Humble

Empathetic

Sacrificing

And continues to 

Have his childish tantrums

And hold on to his

Territories

The wallflower's moment

Born a wallflower,

I would like to be invisible

To the world

Unfettered as I pass by

Unnoticed

Relieved

A sigh of thanks

For not having to

Meet any eyes

Make any platitudes 

I would like to be 

Unseen

By the eyes of

The whole world

Except for yours

For you, 

I would like

To see me

In full detail

I would like you

To know me

To recognize me

To remember me

And to come to me

When you need

A shoulder, a hand

An ear, a heart, a soul

And anything else

That I forgot to mention

If you were a lover

Maybe

This would be

Narcissistic

But since you are

My offspring

I guess

My effusions are

Expected and 

Accepted

Turned off

When they turn off

The light of their attention

Some people

Turn it elsewhere

And simply let you wallow

In indifference

While others

When they rotate

The bright light of affection

Away from you

Will then turn on

The b(l)ack light

Of their hatred

Towards you

I think I know which one

I don't prefer

Wise

And if you explain

The workings of the world

And of my mind

In precise, clear terms

That shine with the glow

Of erudition and

Perseverance and

Maybe even wisdom

Who am I

To impose my 

Airy fairy

Mumbo jumbo

Over it

Who am I to obfuscate 

Lucid knowledge

With blurry faith

That could be no more than

Ignorant superstition 

Out of body

And if you claim that 

You flew out into

A beautiful white light

Were overwhelmed with love

Felt connected to

Every being on this earth

And met god himself

Who am I to say

It is merely your brain

Reacting to trauma

Who am I to reduce

Your spiritual ecstasy

To mere science

About turn

To think that the girl

Who did not want to

Hurt any animal

Became the woman

Who might now

Strangle puppies and kittens 

Your favours

The whole world is watching

With bated breath

To see

Where you would bestow

Your favours

Who will you seek

When you are sick

To whom will you

Confide your secrets

Who will you show

Your treasures

And who will you treat

With the most kindness 

The dreams

That keep you awake

And the ones

That wake you up

Are not the same thing

And the question is

Which one

Is the real you

Love is

Love is

Extra sleep in the morning

After the baby wakes you up

Three times in the night

Love is

Taking the difficult shift

Of walking the baby to sleep

Love is

Sharing the last bite of brownies

Love is

Complements on a bad day

Love is

Support, no matter who else 

Is against you

Love is

A refuge 

When there's nowhere to go

Attention economy

As you gently play with my earlobes

With the softest touch, softer than feathers

Drinking your fill, 

With a faraway look in your eyes

My heart is full

It is the most I will ever be loved (or lobed)

The ardentness of your attentions

Humbles me

I am lucky

Because not everyone

Will be so loved, even once

Not to mention, again and again

**

And yet, despite the completeness

Of your attentions

I will let mine stray

I will let myself be seduced

By the easy attractions

Of glittering screens

Of clickbait

I WILL let you

Suck on, mindlessly

(Not you, I am the mindless one)

As I indulge in instant gratification

My mind craving

Hit after hit

Hugh after high

Conditioned as it is

To constant mollification

Just because it's there

Just because it's available

Just because I can

**

And I wonder

And I worry

If you can tell

That while you are giving me 

A hundred percent

I am giving you

Less than ten

**

How would it be different

If there were no phones

Would I read, 

When you are busy with me?

Or would I just look at you,

Watch your every look,

Feel your every move,

Wonder at your beauty,

Sigh at our bond?

**

Yes, I'm sure you can tell

Everyone can tell

Even babies

Whether they are getting 

The one hundred percent

The absolute concentration

Of attention

And when it's diluted

Diverted

Elsewhere

And you are simply

Background noise

For the other person

Whose mind is preoccupied 

**

And I wonder

If you will feel my love

Any lesser for it

If you will love me

Any less for it

Food

For the minuscule pea

That you extend towards me

I would give up

Every other food 

That I will ever eat

Sun

The sun of your affection

Shines so bright

Every other sun

Fades

No, it's not necessary

That you like the person

Who haunts your dreams

Required: sacrifice

So apparently there are 

Only two models of marriage

Across time, place and 

Any other dimension

One in which

The woman does everything

Accepts all the flaws

Of everyone around

Lets them flourish

At the cost of her own life 

Glosses over her pains

And brushes them 

Under the carpet

To make way for

Everyone else

And everyone is happy 

And another in which

The woman questions everything

And demands her equal share

Of life

And everyone is 

Constantly squabbling 

And I know why

I will never choose

The path that leads to

Happiness 

Impossible

Being with you

Is the most difficult thing

I have ever done

And yet it is easier

Than not being with you

Smooth

And I pretend

Not to know you

For other people

Claim to know you more

And would be offended

If i disagreed

A strange world

Even my love

What I would do for you

Has to be veiled 

Greetings

 

She greets everyone differently

And it is up to us to figure out

And squabble over

The hierarchy

Of her affections

Depicted by it

Some, she greets with a smile

And a ready yelp

With which she jumps

In their direction

One could say

This is the height of

Her attachment

Others,

She greets with a shy,

Hesitant smile

And will go to them

In a few minutes

One could say this is

Coyly affectionate

Still other,

she greets by showing them

Something

She is preoccupied with

Something like a book

Or a picture, or a toy

Just a deflection

Or projection

Of affection

A seeking, of attention

One could say

And then there is someone

Or maybe just one

Who she might greet

Not necessarily with a smile

Whom she blithely ignores often

To explore new realms

Or to delight

In play, in society

Or a laugh or a yelp

But looks at

With a desperate yearning

In times of distress

I would like to believe

The hierarchy

Is not settled

By smiles

Sunflower

When I see you

And realize that

Forever I will look at you

Like a sunflower

Looks at the sun

Forever

My eyes will seek you

To drink up

The sight of you

And that will

Be the only food

My soul seeks

That to be happy

I will look to you

And see if you are smiling

To live

I will look at you

And see if you are alive

---

And the realization

That to live you need

Not someone to love you

But someone you can love

Possession

Pushing off

Every possible bind

Deliberately

Turning the heart cold

So that it wouldn't be roused

By affection

Only to fight tooth and nail

To possess

You

Comfort and happiness

As everyone knows

Comfort

Doesn't give happiness

The amount of mental illness

Is exactly the same

In any two normal communities

No matter how rich

Or how poor

They are

No, 

Having your roads pitched

Having your house concretified

Regulating your room temperature

Having a machine to take the

Numbness of washing

From your fingers

Traveling in soft, fluffed up seats

Without having to jostle against

A dozen people for two inches

To land your butt in

None of these will make you happy

Neither will fulfilling

The myriad other desires

Of comfort

Not even

Being able to do

Nothing, if you so wish

Happiness

Does not lie in comfort 

The mentions

Of prozac and valium

In the so called civilized nations

Makes me dizzy already

And yet,

None of us

Will give up

Even an inch 

Of the comfort

That we have

Nor stop striving

For more

As if it was

The only thing 

That mattered

Muddy

A mind

Like a glass of water

Full of dust

Stirred

Swirling, swirling

Unable to settle

Unable to separate

Unable to be still

Unable to be clear

Nothing makes sense 

A room

And still,

Though I have everything

I lack

The room of my own

To write 

To feel

 In solitude

There is feeling

The luxury to feel 

The way I feel

In company

There is the obligation

Always

To justify your feeling

To acknowledge

That the other person

Is also right

And then to arrive

At a mid-point

Which means nothing

To anyone

And is

Totally and completely

Useless

Hence, 

Blessed solitude

Art is produced

Only in this solitude

Where you can 

Dive deep

Into yourself

 

(In the warmth of company, 

There is no art)

Yayati

One doesn't need to be Yayati

To feel

The unending thread of desire

One kind word

One embrace

Is never enough

You just want attention 

Constantly

All the time

Death

Life is so much more

Bearable

Even happy

After you decide to die

You don't have to feel

Anything

You can simply

Go through the motions

Let things bounce off

Of your body

And since you are dead

Every instance of happiness

Is a bonus 

Warmth

I know it's not allowed

I know it's not my due

I know it's against the rules

And yet,

When I see you

I always ask you

Five more minutes?

An hour? 

And even I neglect to ask you

Be sure

That it is only because

I want

The whole day

Which I dare not voice

And so, since

Asking for five minutes

Makes no sense

I abandon

The whole enterprise 

For when you are gone

I will be left with

A deep and wide crevasse

That takes over my insides

That nothing can fill

And only when 

You are there again

Do I feel the abyss

Filled

With warm sunlight

That floods me up

From the inside

Ending in

The dawn of a smile

Mool

And today I found out

That a man

Will look upon the face

Of his newborn child

If

And only if

It is ascertained

That the child was not born

Under stars

That are harmful

To the father

And I am left reeling

With shock

As i think of 

What happens if

The child's stars

Harm the mother?

Do they never harm the mother?

No, that cannot be possible

In that case,

The mother

Has no choice but to look

Upon the face of the 

Inauspicious child

In an aside,

As a mother I would prefer that

Rather than have my child taken away

Because of some stars

Who seem so distant

And so less important

Than my desire

To hold my child

But then

Let's come back to the case of

The mother

And the "inauspicious" child

I don't think the stars are consulted

Before the mother

Looks upon the face

Of her child

Which means

Either that the mother is 

Not considered

As important as the father

(Which is of course the case)

Or everyone knows

It's futile

Because

The child has always been 

With the mother

And so whatever harm

It can cause

Has always been there

And will be with her

After birth

Because you cannot

Separate the child

From the mother

At least, not so soon

Or both 

So there

Is the mother

Absorbing all harm

That the child can do

Like a tree

That takes a hit

Of lightening

And is still standing 

There is the mother

Her body already

A site of 

Not just birth

But battle, and death

There is the mother

An entire universe

In itself

And then there is the father

Running away

Hiding

Making choices

To confront

Only what he can handle

No wonder

He seeks

To circumscribe

Someone

So much more powerful

Than him

 

By telling her

That she does not

Need to consult the stars

Because

She is worthless

Night

Some days

Ok, cut that and make it most days

Or even, all days

I would like to go to sleep

Serenaded 

Not by the bark of a dog

Or the roar of engines

(That, most particularly)

Or the whistle of pressure cookers

But by the gentle sound

Of a river flowing by

And the chherful chirping

Of crickets

Some day I would like to go to sleep

Not in the harsh glare of a tungsten bulb

Or several thousand of them

Not in the half-light which remains 

In the city,  in any case 

Despite me and mine switching off

All our lights

But in deep, dark, liquid black of the night

Some day I would like

To be lulled to sleep

Not by the smell

Of the aftertaste of cooking

But the free growing gardenias

The parijats and the raat ki ranis

That light up the heart and soul

Some day when I am startled

In the middle of the night

I would like to open my eyes

Not to rows and rows and rows

Of houses

Each as concrete

And mundane as the other

But to the vast night skies

Full of twinkling stars

Some day when I lie restless

And my soul yearns for

Something I cannot name 

A bit of magic, a bit of poetry

And I walk out to calm down

I would like to wander

Not up and down the stairs

Nor fidget inside

The four walls of my room

But stroll

In a moonlit garden

Or forest

Or riverside

And feast my eyes on

The silver sights

Where all is black and white and grey

Where nothing had colors 

But they don't seem to miss it

And instead glow

With a faint, otherworldly irridiscence 

Yes, someday I would like to

Drink upon this scene

And let my soul rest

And recuperate

From the harsh, 

Beauty-less world

That is my reality

A world robbed of nature

And what it could do for the soul

As usual, I ask myself

How much of my imagination

Is a romanticizing

Of things I have never experienced

And how I would react

To these things if

They really happened

Bu today,

I brush that question aside

Today, merely

I think and I imagine

And I drown and I enjoy

The thought of these sights

Some day, 

I would like to see

Fireflies bloom

In the dead of the night

If I had a pensieve

 I would pick out my thoughts

Strand by strand

Maybe in different shapes

Maybe solid, maybe vapors

But they wouldn't just be 

White or silver

They would be in 

All colours of the rainbow

According to how I feel

I would draw them all out

And then I would sort them

Thread by thread

Into different colours

And then weave out of them

story after story

each of a unique hue

I have decided to die

 

Rather than invest any emotions

on something

that you know

is going to hurt you

and that you know

you can do nothing about

every time

It's best to die

To let some parts of you die

To accept that

There is going to be no happiness

Nothing positive

There

To develop a thick skin

And just move on

Try to find happiness

Elsewhere

The roils of smoke

 I sit here

At a nondescript coffee shop

Enjoying the sweet, firey smell

of second hand smoke

 

No, I don't smoke

And the couple of times I tried

(Never in the intention of taking up smoking,

or even in the intention of resorting to it occasionally, 

but in the interest of experiementation

as I often do new things)

it did not smell so sweet

Maybe I did not have the right brand

Whatever

It did nothing for me

So it does not attract me in the least

But now as I sit here

Watching the back of a young man's head

And the whole back, for that matter

Behind which

Rise the tendrils of smoke

blue-gray-purple-white-shining silver

I see their roiling shapes

coiling, becoming solid, round, oval

And through them

The view on the other side

Acquires a mysterious tint

 As if

They were half there

And half not there

Like something out of a fairy tale

Of which there are mere glimpses

I see the whole world

Colored

In that mystical fashion

And then the smoke disperses

As if choreographed

And wild, at the same time

Some of it thinning into

Sold shapes

Some of it dissipating into 

Ever more transparent sheets

And all of a sudden, 

It's disappeared

Like magic air 

That was there just now

And is gone in an instant

Like vapors of a magic potion

Or the intoxicating fumes 

Of a visible spell

And just this sight

Is enough

to entice me

I want you to be sensitive

 When I have a child, 

I want her to be sensitive

To beauty, you had said

And I was aghast

Because it never occured to me

To wish that for my child

And isn't that the antithesis of

Whatever we are working towards?

A just and equal society?

I want my child 

To ignore beauty

To make friends

Without looking at people's face

And yet when I thought about it

I realised

I just meant

Beauty in people

I want my child

To be open and compassionate

To everyone

But at the same time, 

Yes, be sensitive to beauty

In nature

In places, in living beings

In sounds, in music, 

In art, in designs

Maybe I would not have 

Put it in those words

Maybe it was not as important 

To me as it seems to you

And yet, yes, I would want my child

To appreciate all these things

To live a full and rich life

By appreciating not just 

Such beauty

But also knowledge, history, 

Stories, creation, compassion

Yes, compassion

For a long time I had 

Deliberated on what you said

Wondering whether that is what

I want for my child

Or the opposite of it

Only to realise that

it is not necessarily what I think about

When I think of what I wish you to be

Instead, I have other priorities

I want you to be

Compassionate

Instead of privileged slob

Entitled brat

I want you to be sensitive

To pain

I want you to be sensitive 

To everyone's individual stories

and situations

I want you to not live 

In your own bubble

So that you can do

What you are able to do

For the people around you

I don't expect you to save the world

No one can do that

But I wish you become

The kind of person

Who wants to try

And after that, 

Yes, I want you to be sensitive

To beauty and 

art and music and poetry

So that you can live

A rich and full life

For happiness, my dear

Is not for the compassionate

The vulgarity of love

 She

Has a life

That I don't wish upon anyone

Caring for two

Who will never be able to 

Care for themselves

And now

To watch a third

Go down the road to 

Possible ruin

And nothing she 

Or anyone can do

No, not a life that  

I would wish upon any one

And yet she lives it

With such dignity

And fortitude

Every day

I never had time to feed them 

With my own hands

She said

I just put the food in front of them

And they eat

Or they don't

And I was struck

By the memory

Of how I feed you

Sometimes singing, 

Sometimes making faces

Sometimes switching dishes

Scattering grains on your plate

Enticing you with novelties

Waiting, always, waiting

For long minutes after everyone is gone

Just so that you would eat

An extra bite

I was struck by the memory

And the question

Of what she 

And others like her

Might think

Of a life like mine

Where I have all the luxury

To feed my baby

Yes, what a great luxury it is

Only now I realise

And I was struck by

The vulgarity

Of such a display of love

To anyone

Who doesn't have it

And I wonder

At this love of mine

At whether you should get it

When so many suffer

Whether I should 

Be so happy in your company

When so many don't have

What I have

And yet, 

My primary duty

Is to you

And only to you

Who I feed with such love

Time and again every day

And what a useless comparison that is

Neither here nor there

Which does nothing but

Make me depressed

Unwanted deluge

I don't want to start my day

By processing bitterness, 

Feeling dirty, unclean, and violated

But in my mind,

He is there with me, 

Unbidden,

Grinning that simpering grin

Maybe he isn't in reality

Maybe he never thinks about it

But then, in my mind 

I am looking at me 

Through his eyes 

All over time

A used thing

A pitiable thing

A violated thing 

A thing which has no agency

A thing taken advantage of

A thing trampled

A thing that you can do anything with 

A thing crowed upon

A thing to be caged

A thing to posess

Food for my soul

When I think of you

I think of how

I would rather not meet you

Because it is too much

For my soul

And instead

Drown in whatever

You have strewn around

Unthinkingly

Measuring loves

 It is hard to say who I love more

 

I  guess it is not a question of more or less

The question is not objective,

it is subjective

It is about how I feel about

All each person

I used to think

that I love them so much

A new one will never take that place

That I will always be ready to drop

The new life

Like a hot potato

If they need me

 

Indeed, the opposite has happened

And I am ready to drop them

Like a hot potato

If she needs me

 

That doesn't mean

I love them any less

It just means that I feel 

Duty and rseponsibility

Differently

That I feel more responsible

For a helpless one

But they are still them

For whom I will give up everything

And where is he

For whom I will drop nothing

Give up nothing

I don't think I will 

And yet, without him

There is no happiness

There is no solace

And yet, even with 

Happiness and solace

I am still 

Undone 

Still soulless

Without

You

And when I think of

The one person

Who is in my soul

The one person

Whose happiness matters to me

The one friend who I wish to talk to every day

The one  who takes my thoughts

Puts them into order

And gives them back to me

The one who is at my center

Despite

Those who come and go

Those who I will serve

Those who make me happy

That one

That one is only you

Crumbs

I live on your crumbs

How dare I

Hope for half the bread

Rather than

The waves of hope

Cresting and crashing

Every few days

Takes too much

Out of me

Every time

And the next time

The waves rise lower

And the crash is softer

Only to rise with a vengeance

Somewhere else

Why not

Let them

Be still

Forever

I have injured you

Enough 

Burden

I have tried so hard

To only give you love

And no burdens

Only to have the whole world

Foist its burden of expectations

On you

To talk

Is to hit

The same wall

Again and again

If I knew that

My life would not be my own

And that you would gladly

Put my life 

In the hands of others

I would not

Have chosen this life

To be unfeeling

I hope

Only to be disappointed

I expect

Only to be turned away

I am enthusiastic

Only to be shushed down

I suggest

Only to be rejected

I am possessive

Only for my possessions to be trammelled

I am decisive

Only for my decisions to be overruled

I love

Only to be brushed off

Why then

Should I feel

Isn't it just easier

To be a stone

So that I am

Neither disappointed

Nor turned away

Nor shushed down

Nor rejected

Nor trammelled

Not overruled

And not brushed off

Why do I always bother you

When I know it leads nowhere

And I only end up bothering you....

Living in shadow

Of something so great

That I am invisible 

I decided to die

Because to live is to feel

And who wants to feel....

Heartbreak

So little you need

To break a heart

Why don't you come see me, 

she said

A heart full of trepidation, 

Hoping for a yes

Conscious, of the long, long miles

between then

And still, hoping, 

For a yes

Because, he had said often, 

How much she meant to him

It should be an exuberant yes

It should be, I was saving up for this

I was waiting for this sign from you

But when he spoke

It was far, far from her plane

Do you think it will make me happy?

He asked

And just like that

She, who had wanted to hear

I will do everything to make you happy

was 

crestfallen

Baggage mountain

Hurt piled upon hurt

Wound layered upon wound

I seethed

With words unsaid

Actions never begun

Just a seething

Just a raging flame

That i fanned

Until it grew and grew

And i glowed from the inside

All along

I waited

For something

Someone

The answer

To the flame

Apparently it was

All for you

So that you would

Come and

Not necessarily

Salve those wounds

Or heal those hurts

Or douse those flames

But so that

I could scorch you

With the fire

Burn one person

With the fire

Fed by

All of humanity

For eternity

(No apology

Is ever enough)

तिलस्म

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