Miracles and Musings

Disclaimer: The following lines have been written by a highly unprofessional man. The lines you see are the result of cold medicine and tomato ketchup with a dash of grape Juice. Please do not write these at home!

Searching for gospels through the looking glass,

I’m waiting for miracles as I see my life flash.

This city, my Vaudeville, lost among the hum of generators,

leaves me staring at, looking at, empty buildings and

getting lost in the meticulous fluid of my being.

The comic inside me, who finds humour only in butter chicken,

now shouts out for a bar setting for once!

The unabbreviated neon lights on damaged roads

hypnotise the keyboard banging chimp inside my soul.

My brain aches from all the espresso thoughts,

and my ceiling puts a poker face as I stare at it in boxer shorts.

My prayers to God are only for ungodly things

(none of which involve an angel with wings.)

As i get warped into the fourth dimension of traffic

social media posts seem disturbingly terrific.

Viral fevers and chicken cravings,

back pains and ice cream with chocolate shavings

mould my world and cook a tune

as a thousand cello strings permeate my soul.

New City – I

(New personal record! 6 months without writing a single word… I’ve done a grave injustice to the writer inside me! From writing so articles, poems and Quora answers, I’ve switched to writing scripts and kernel modules. A silent prayer for my decreasing creativity and my ever increasing roundness!)

11th September.

I am sitting in my corner cubicle, getting my ass frozen off by the highly malfunctioning air conditioning. It’s Friday and there are very few people around me, thus allowing me to play my favourite playlist at the maximum possible volume. And it also made realise that I finally have some time to ramble.

It’s been more than two months since I joined at my new job. The work is cool, office people people are very chilled out. But this new city! I really can’t put my finger on it. I was born, brought up and educated in small cities. And now there’s Hyderabad. The city of Nizams, Biriyani, Haleem, Nawabs and Kebabs! 😀 So many stories around the old city! So much noise on the roads! The food, the trees, old buildings, even the daily commuting teaches me something new everyday!

This is a completely new experience. Setting up the apartment, living with completely different people, worrying about broken taps, enjoying lunch with my colleagues, getting desserts passed over from the adjacent table, going for a movie during office hours… It’s not as fun, but it’s new… It’s not the same, but it is shaping me up… It’s far from perfect, but it’s not monotonous… Let’s see what adventures I encounter!! 😀

charminar!

Wait…..

A truly beautiful and touching poem! Keep writing…

sribatsadotcom

Wait.... Wait….

I asked her for yet another time

should i mourn or take out the wine?

Even a word if not a line

was it so unjust, this demand of mine?

 

What if her answer is a NO?

And i have to let her go?

My love she will never know

And her memories i must forego

 

Empty glasses stare at me, longing to be filled

the barren land of my heart awaits to be tilled.

Wait is something i must do, till then my fate is sealed

Just a nod, a smile, a gaze, will render all healed.

 

What if her answer is a NO?

And i have to let her go?

My love she will never know

And her memories i must forego

 

As this terror grips me slowly, taking its toll

Adorning my headphones i embark on a stroll.

Hoping  for angels who…

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Back-alley of Ugly Truths

(The truth needn’t always be good. Sometimes it’s bitter and ugly and, well, destructive)

Dark Alley

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here
for this is the place where fallen angels crawl.
Where your worst fears are a walking reality
and the only conundrum is your bubbling morality.

Where winter cold chills the marrow and soul
and breath is rationed to all condemned,
all castles in the clouds fall down brick by brick
and you stand in place nailed down by shock.

All sweet dreams feasted by demented beings
and fights break out for a pound of your flesh.
Where hearts sink to watery depths
and then painlessly burst into oblivion.

dark alley_big

Where the evil that rises out of the wolves
slowly poisons the veins of mankind,
rendering your conscience dangerously helpless
in the face of the dark threats that lurk around.

Where clarion flies over your head night and day
and maggots get a feasting when people rejoice,
all the meat you eat there is poisoned, even in your sleep,
That is where an Inferno simmers under the streets.

You hear pleas of help yet are unable to pull
people out of the pits of their own miseries
for you are powerless whilst you bear
the weight of the truths you find here.
No light shall fester, no deliverance upheld.
So, abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

Finding Each Other

And so she lies under the cover of darkness,
Warm with love, over his heart’s abode.
As he looks down to meet her eyes,
all the poetry he ever wrote comes to life.
As he holds his hand in hers and her lips in his,
all music breaks out and life feels complete again.

Finding Each Other

This unexpected story that started at midnight one day,
shall be his melody till kingdom come.
And she, the one who gave away her soul to him,
shall live in his essence in a myriad of forms.

So let foster this, their forbidden love,
Let them find each other under the cover of darkness.
For when finally the light shines on them there will be a uproar,
And they will face the world together as one.

Wanderer Of The Skies

It’s been a long time. It’s been a tough journey. But the sky was the limit and we have almost reached there.
Do share if you find it worth sharing.

There was a flash
and a spirit broke
the logic of minds went up in smoke.
But there were dreams
and there were roads
and a wish to speak louder than words.

And so we sailed
on judgment’s scales
worrying not where we might fail.
These roads we took
without the sun or a brook
tested our strengths till our knees bent and shook.

Then there were ties
of love and entwined lives
which we left behind to fight for our pride.
Sometimes it felt less
sometimes it felt excess
sometimes it felt like the dreams were a mess.

But we walked upon the stony paths,
never cursing other souls to any wrath.
And now we stand here among the stars,
a little battered and bruised but proud of the scars.

And now we sail across the vast skies.
And now we fly above the breaking ice.
The wind in our fold and the stars by our side,
a new world is ahead; let’s leave the old one behind.

Wanderer

Snippets

This is a poem of incomplete stories. A poem about a conversation. A poem which allows to hope for a better tomorrow.

“Tell me a story!”

A tattered body, a battered mind,
Dusty feet and arms covered with grime,
A broken heart and some bleeding wounds,
Yes, this is a story of poorer times.

“What about the good times?”, she asked.

Keep patience, for it is yet to be told,
Stay here if you want to see it unfold.
Because I’ve fallen a victim to the wheels of time,
And surely summer will follow these days of cold.

conversation

“Tell me about colours…”

I can see yellow, black, white and brown,
But I see no red or green around,
but I wonder, what if all was just a serene blue?
I could be colour blind without any bounds.

“Tell me about love…”

I looked for you in old lifeless pics,
A hint of love or the blush in your cheeks,
And selfishly i wanted you back near me,
Because my poetry is nothing but our crazy streaks.

“Tell me about yourself…”

On odd days, on bad days, on days real good,
Poetry flows out as I sit and brood,
And I keep hoping this time will be it,
This time I’ll say what my heart would if it could.