Thursday, January 24, 2008

If this is what I think of during free periods, I need therapy

I’m sitting in my classroom,
It’s a winter morning (though the biting cold
Has given way to indifferent neutrality)


The sky is indifferent; it is of no colour,
Not even white.
It is indifferent to the fact
That its colourless glare hurts my eyes.
The wind is indifferent,
It blows weakly at irregular intervals,
Failing to refresh, failing to sting,
But is doesn’t care.
The surrounding buildings are indifferent;
Their stark walls are dotted
With numerous windows that stare
With a blank gaze.

I look around.
The classroom comprises of little pockets, little worlds.
To the right, a group is indulging in some exciting gossip;
Snatches of laughter, oscillations between whispers and shouts
Come floating to my ears.
Out of the corner of my eye
I catch some wild gesturing
Behind me, a cluster of girls are practising a shloka
For republic day.
The chair beside me is empty.
Strange… it wasn’t, a moment ago.
I never realised when she left.
In the front row, a girl is studying feverishly,
Another is talking to the substitute teacher.
Our teacher is absent. Why?
I don’t know, don’t care.
I’m indifferent. We all are.

But this substitute teacher has taught me before.
Our eyes meet, and she smiles at me.
I find my face mirroring her smile.

This isn’t indifference now, is it?

A chain of random thoughts unwind in my head.
I close my eyes, in reminiscence
And then I hear it-
The chatter emanating from different groups
At different volumes and pitches
Has blended into a steady hum.
The strains of the shloka come wafting through the hum,
Like a river meandering through smooth, bare sand.
An energy is pulsating through the classroom.
I must admit it's all rather beautiful.

When I open my eyes, I sense that something's changed.
Suddenly it strikes me! Someone has pulled down the blinds.
The sunlight was hurting her eyes too.

We're all different, yes.
But did I say INdifferent?
I was being a glum little fool.
It's strange how I feel at peace now.

Monday, January 21, 2008

A Fairytale for Romance-Starved Adolescents :P

*Rhyme scheme stolen from the great Tennyda (Alfred, Lord Tennyson. And yes, we're on brother-sister terms)
*Written in honour of a rather unstable friend completing a year of her current relationship and still going strong.
*This is the first time she has completed a year.
*This relationship was preceded by a string of unsuccesful ones.
*The poem is intentionally corny
*The theme is hackneyed, but it is a portrayal of the real-life situation. Coming up with 'original' themes is a classy way of lying.

In an enchanted forest, deep and dark,
Where the sunlight one does mark
As a dancing golden spark
On every leaf, as ripples on the bark;
There is a clearing unvisited, unseen.
There in that clearing, little fountains do spring
And run off into brooks that sing
In harmony with the birds on shimmering wing.
There in that clearing, lives a fairy queen.

She lives among others of her kind.
Beautiful creatures all! Light-footed as the wind,
Flitting through the shadows, difficult to find;
(Once spotted, they haunt the chambers of your mind)
In that clearing, rarely visited or seen.
Fresh and innocent, like the laugh of a child,
Yet with the vibrance of a dance heady and wild;
The fairies are such, and the least mild
But the most captivating is the fairy queen.

Have you not heard the magical tale
Of how her true love she did avail?
Oh readers I implore you, do not fail
To listen to the events that did unveil
Themselves in the clearing unvisited, unseen.
They were unexpected, for with her beauty she did entrance
All princes, gnomes, elves; at their admiring glance
Her radiance grew, her charm did enhance.
Yet she never lost her heart to them, the fairy queen.

Unfortunately, it was that fairy’s way,
To look upon love as play.
Rather vain, she allowed herself to sway
From one romance to the next that lay
Open in the clearing unvisited, unseen.
And the one that most attracted her, she would trap
In a magical bubble; but to add to his mishap-
When his looks would tire her, the spell would snap
And he would be dropped at the feet of the fairy queen.

One day, the queen had a lover new-
And though with blind passion he declared he’d be true,
Somehow, he was different from the rest she knew-
A fairy lad of quiet strength, like whom there weren’t two
In that clearing unvisited, unseen.
He was simple and good, but burnt with a fire-
Of conviction and self-belief; our queen did desire
Him. He was plain, not born of a higher
Rank than our capricious fairy queen.

She thought this was yet another game.
To the flighty maiden, this was to be the same
As all others; drunk on her own loveliness and fame
She attempted to trap him without remorse or shame.
This had grown usual in the clearing unvisited, unseen.
She cast her wand and uttered the incantation.
The bubble did appear but to her confusion-
It trapped them both! In unison
Were caught the lover and the fairy queen.

Suddenly in a flash she saw the light!
Could it be that she was right?
Unbelievable! But surely the spell gone wrong, her breathing tight,
Her rapid heartbeat, were all signs that despite
Her intentions, she had found true love in the clearing unvisited, unseen.
As though to confirm her belief,
The wind that rustled bough and leaf,
Brought forth to her relief
The sound of wedding bells to the ears of the fairy queen.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008


Who are you stranger? Do I know you?
Have we met before?
If not, how did I wake up one morning
With your name echoing in my ears?
Why else, would the days that followed
Be haunted by the thought of you?
Why is the thought of you like a forbidden pleasure
That fills me with guilt?
Stranger, your face is in shadow,
Sometimes I think I see it's glimpses.
Will you let me see your face?
Will you let me kiss it?
Sranger, I think I love you,
Though I'm not sure. Isn't it funny?
But I want to meet you stranger.
Stranger, I need to meet you.
You're like the broken memories
Of a dream that lingers,
A dream that troubles me vaguely,
But one I can't remember.
You're like the tune of a song
That's been playing in my head,
But how and when I learnt it,
What it's name is, I forget.
Stranger, sometimes I wish you'd leave me,
Walk out without a trace.
Ease my formless fears
Instead of teasing me this way.
Sometimes I wish you'd leave me,
'Cos i'm just a little worried-
I don't think I'm quite ready
To have you show yourself.
But more than anything is my desire
To know you, dear stranger.
Stranger your face is in shadow,
Sometimes I think I see it's glimpses.
Stranger, I think I love you.
Yes, I'm almost sure I love you.
Stranger, show me your face.
Stranger, let me kiss your face.