Monday, March 28, 2011

Death, do be proud!


I am kinda humbled.

A little jittery

with a faint smile

and a shocked emoticon!

For you came knocking.

You rang the doorbell

and like an impish child,

ran away before I could answer.

You dirty tease!

I know where this is coming from.

I've teased you enough too;

mocked and poked.

And you never listened.

But you did hear.

I know now.

A slight pinch to say

"Preview of upcoming attraction, kiddo"!!!

Charmed! Thanks.

Saved! Thanks.

Still breathing! Almost thanks.

Next time, give me prior notice.

Got some packing to do.

And when you do knock

don't run away.

Wait, and let us flee together!


All things immortal and Biprorshee

Wednesday, March 23, 2011


One above the other.
Stacking it all up.
Very heavy within!

And it lessens the load.
Trust me, it does.
You forget the pain
that is at the bottom of the pile.
What is on top does not matter,
as yet!

By the time it does,
it too shall have
a heavy load to bear.

My fine remedy.
Guess even pain
can't stand pain.

Only fair then
that I can't bear

Imaginary foes
help me live.
I talk to them
in my head.
Imaginary foes
help me hurt.

You'll know what I'm talking about.

Watch it flow.
Paint all crimson.
Eyes, skin, soul, the works.

Lose consciousness.
There shall soon be no pain.
And you and I shall sleepwalk.

All things painful and Biprorshee

Friday, March 18, 2011


Worms wriggle
in my head.
Dance an ugly song
in my head.
I don't know or
maybe I do.

Maybe I gave them life.

Of course I did.
I wanted them
to be there,
didn't I?
I wanted them to feast
on what they could find,
didn't I?
They found my thoughts.
Eat! Eat! Eat!

What is that music
they dance to?

I can't hear.
I am deaf!
I can't sing.
I am dumb!
I can see
the nightmare.
I am not blind!

What a gift!
Happy happy!

With my hands tied
to a chair.
And my legs bound.
They eat and they
force feed

Feed me my brain.
Made bitter.
Eat, with love!

Is your life over,
...Suffer more!

All things corrupt and Biprorshee

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

To Love You Less...

To stand outside and look at you
is not something I can do too well.
It becomes easy to be judgemental
and call you names
but it is not something I can do too well.

I can point out your flaws.
Being on the other side,
I can be spotless.
Not attempting to break the glass
lest it breaks my fairy tale self.
But it is not something I can do too well.

You will seem ugly to me.
Through the transparent mirror
that is not honest;
as it lies, with you as my reflection.
Of course it lies.
I am not ugly!
The mirror shows the dirt in you
that I must see.
But it is not something I can do too well.

I can be at peace.
I can be comfortable.
I can say that it is all your fault.
I can call it your monster
and not mine.
But it is not something I can do too well.

I can scream
and thrash.
And watch a tear fall down your face.
As it does, I can smile.
And free myself of guilt.
But it is not something I can do too well.

I can take my pain and put it away.
Own yours and hurt.
I can love you too
but it is not something I can do too well.

All things useless like Biprorshee

Monday, March 07, 2011

Welcome Freddy!

Since when did I begin to deal with nightmares?
Not my area of expertise, I always thought.
It was yours;
as you told me how you couldn't sleep;
as you told me how you couldn't dare.
When did I begin to show such courage?

It was ok, I think, when I was an insomniac.
I slept so little; I confused scary dreams.
I slept so little; the alarms broke.

Now, I sleep early.
I think of healthy habits.
And I dream of the worst addictions.
I wake screaming
or maybe wanting to scream.
I have no voice to shout.
I could cry but not out loud.
I would still call it
'To wake up screaming'.

And there's no one around.
Drenched in sweat and there's no one around.
Just black. Just dark. Just a buzz.
You know what I am talking about?
Did this happen to you?

I was better off not sleeping.
I was better off unhealthy.
I am not healthy.
I am scared.
I don't want to

All fear awake and Biprorshee

Friday, March 04, 2011

A moo-ing and a moo-stache!

Someone loves someone else a bit too much and puts it down in words that transcends all that is beautiful and/or could be called so. Here's to a love that can't be defined, a friendship that seems to have the life of a Phoenix. Here's to how beautiful life should actually be. Here's to you, here's to me!

P.S.: You are a much much better writer and a human being than I can ever be. Don't ever argue after this.


Remember that boring evening at work? You stuck in your office, me in mine? And that sudden coffee plan? Barista at 8. See you there.

Should have known then what a bundle of lateness you are. I finished reading a two whole chapters of my book before you walked through that door, bag in tow, hair swishing. "Sorry Moodles. Got stuck."

"It's ok, I say," smiling. One really can't be mad at you, can one?

We spoke that evening. A lot. Chatter chatter. About what? Nothing of consequence. Work. Colleagues. Gossip about cabbages and kings. And did we wonder whether pigs have wings? We must have.

Coffee. That's how it always starts. Why didn't we do more coffee trips when I was around? Oh yes, it's always been work.

Never mind that now.

Fate made me move to a different city. You were heartbroken at seeing me go. I, at leaving you behind. Should I have packed you in that suitcase like I'd planned? I should have when I'd the chance. See? I'm not always impulsive.

I promised never to lose sight of you. I promised I'd be there. I promised to do all I could, to stop you from hurting. Wishing I could have all of your pain. Friends? We were beyond that years ago. Soon, you became my son. Me, your overprotective mommy. "Sleep. Get some rest. Eat on time. Don't smoke so much," and all that. Did it bother you? I hope not.

Being your mother, a full time job I loved. I wanted to envelope you in my love. Protect you from the big, bad world. A mother fawning over her little baby. Apart from the fact that I didn't give birth to you, all the motherly instincts were there. I felt normal. I felt like a woman. Responsible for her cub, shielding you from the eyes of the world. Fiercely protective. You were just mine.

Maybe I overdid that bit, in hindsight. Somewhere, I lost the plot. You were not my son, I, not your mother. Happy realisation. Too late. You were not mine for keeps. I had no right to be jealous. I had no right to keep you chained.

But all I did was want to see you happy. All I ever wanted was to grow old together. With you. Live in that palatial house by the sea, which you'd sell your kidney to buy for me. That's ok. About the kidneys, I mean. That's what two kidneys are for. And no, no dog named Gaffurbhai would run in the passages of our home. Shh. No arguments. My word is the law. Because mother knows best.

So what happened? We lived together, we loved together. Sometimes each other. Sometimes other people. But we loved. And we laughed. And sobbed. And hugged. And we sang. And we cheered. Life was good. I had you. And you had me, or so I thought.

Why the past tense now? Why the end, when the beginning seems like just yesterday? Where did time lose us? Where did we lose time? Where did we lose ourselves? Where did I lose you?

I don't know you anymore. And much as I'd like you to, you don't know me. We stopped being a team. When? And when did the tears replace the laughter? Over and over? Why didn't I ever notice?

I was busy. Chasing my dreams. Making new acquaintances. In a different part of the world. You were there. Was I there for you? I now doubt. Like I now doubt everything else. Love, friendship, top that list.

You're gone. And there's nothing I can do about it. 'We' died a pernicious, cancerous death. And now all that's left behind? A black hole. Where happiness goes in, never comes back out. Seeped in. Sucked in. We died a gory death.

This is not the death I ordered, God. Wait, I never ordered one. Trust you to mess up, as always, you interfering pile of trouble.

A cup of coffee stares at me now. Half drunk. It has unfinished business. Coffee. That's how it always starts. But it can end in two ways, mind you. One, you drink it all up. Feel happy. Refreshed.

Or, two, you pour away its cold, forgotten remains. Then you wonder. How would you have felt if you hadn't forgotten to consume it?

And the coffee on my table? I forgot to finish it. Left it behind. The warmth is now gone. What remains behind is a sad, watery, sickening taste of caffeine.

I get up. Pour it away. Watch its remains flow down the sink. With the other hand, I wipe a silent tear that forces its way out of my eye.

Goodbye, my son.

I love you.


All love bovine and Biprorshee

Tuesday, March 01, 2011

Yesterday Song

Sing me a song, will you?
About yesterday.
About yesterday of colours
and laughter.

Sing me a song and remind me
of me.
Of me that was,
and alive.

Tell me all because I don't forget.
I don't want to.
Tell me and sing me sweet
for it is all that will be
cherished and hated.

Tell me all about the joy
when I impregnated life.
When I fathered my first born,
cradled her and then
flung her to her death.
Leave that memory out!

In words, I live.
Only in words hence, I beg
for you to sing to me.

Sing to me again
in pure velvet.
Sing to me again.

Talk to me again.
Violate and trespass.
Talk to me again.

All Biprorshee remembered