A paradox and a half

The lanes we shared shy glances on, The houses we wished upon, The trees we imagined around that barren land, I walked through those memories today, Saw my yesterday transcend today, It must prick, when you think of me Or have you locked up memories like I do? Until a morning like this. But I pray, for you and for me That it isn't regret, but wonder That chances upon you, When you think of How we met worlds apart At 2am, in a cab, riding towards1987. Kamanahalli, 26 November, 2016

Her, With the bottle green hair, The raspberry voice snare, The bubblegum delightful flair Was one crazy scare. You, With your luscious dark hair, Darker stare, Are a calmer share. It is peaceful, It is better, This is what I need. He says this and more. With every hour The comparisons grow deeper, The aches get louder. I sit across the chair, Holding back tears That rage in a storm Of stories untold And memories unfurled.

 What has my country come down to. What right do we hold to criticise Israeli atrocities over Palestinians when we let our own bleed. And  all this to feed our egos on owning a piece of land?  From  slaughtering people for eating meat, killing free speech to waging a war against our own. How  do you sleep at night, Mr. Prime Minister when your countrymen die over petty ideals of moral grandeur. And what morals are these that justify bloodshed.  Is this what your Ram bhoomi looks like? Dead bodies, hapless fathers, wailing mothers and orphaned children. Is this what you called achhe din? Did Swachh Bharat mean taxing the commoners to arm ethnic cleansing? Is the Krishi cess I am paying helping any of our farmers at all or are they still killing themselves over debt?  Dear  Mr. Prime Minister, how are you enjoying the foreign trips? The rest of us are working really hard to ensure your flights fly smooth. It would be ni...

Lie. You hate it already. You're cringing. We all lie. In several proportions, ranges and colours. Faces lie, words lie. I, however, have this artful gift. A special one. I lie to myself. Everyday. It is an art I've learned to master from someone I deeply love. "You tell yourself you're OK and you will be OK". I could've used a better lie to get over it.  Those Berlin art-parasite posts telling you -- 'you decide if you want to be happy'. The biggest lie. Nobody can decide how they feel and if you're telling me you can command your feelings, well hello, Artificial Intelligence! We lie to get a certificate, job, date, and succeed. Why do we lie? To impress others. Those who lied their way to get to where they are now. We seek approval from those cheats. Every single day. And with that, we cheat fate. We cheat our dreams. We've lied to ourselves to believe that this is how it is. That this is us winning. The S...

What is of love? If not but only a shout out into the void What is tragic? That the seamless heart aspires What is heart? If not for a beat to skip a pulse What is love? If not for thy heart to know, What's mine has always been yours.

For only two words Held her last breath; Fire he said, Ice she sighed. For across fire, Her skin lit up a thousand moons, But with a cold shoulder; He saw another Love doom.

Destiny, he sighed; Coincidence, she shrugged,  Not until a starry night,  As he bares his scars,  To find another broken soul And they both lay fragmented, Inching pieces together, Of a Story lesser known; Of a Connection untold.