the broken coffee mug


April 2017

Dear Creature in denial…

You would want
my memory to diminish,
the repercussions to vanish
But they won’t.

You would want
me to forget,
the war details.
Because they are already lost
in your anatomical labyrinth
But I won’t.

You would want
to let go.
And you would want
me to let go
But I won’t.

You would think
there are no remainders left
to prove your sins
the sins, the deeds that you’ve done
But you’re wrong.

You don’t see
or maybe that is what you would like to believe,
Creature in denial, let me tell you
there remains
a vast sea of scars.
Scars so deep and grotesque,
that men shy away
But I don’t.

I exhibit them.
I take pride.
Flaunt them in your face,
and you turn a blind eye.
Why shy away, Creature in denial?
My scars are your masterpieces
your pieces of art, that I possess.

You would want
me to not care
and here, right here, Creature in denial
I want to agree with you.
But where were your same wise words
when I burned myself to keep you lighted?

You Creature in denial, must know
I don’t live for your sins
or my scars.
A bountiful life like mine,
how do you expect me to live for you?

But you don’t want
and you don’t know,
my scars will always be fresh for you.

Years later, if we bump again
I’ll smile and you’ll hurry away.
Because my scars,
fresh and bloody just for you
will still greet you there.


The Parallel World 

In a parallel world
Blue is a happy colour
and Neons and pastels scream sadness.
What if, in that world
tears only trickle down the sad face
and do not embrace happiness?

In that parallel world
I don’t go in circles to find myself
in the centre of this foolish world, my foolish world.
What if, in that world
finding oneself is tragic
and getting lost is an achievement?

In that parallel world
they give flowers to the people they hate.
What if, in that world
all those colours flushing on the petals
are monotonous and pale?

And in that parallel world
they talk and not whisper
What if, in that world
screaming loudly shows weakness
and mumbling is brave?

What if…
What if this parallel world
that we talk and think and sing about
does not exist in our heads?
What if, this parallel world
is here, right here
in us, with us,
curled up with our other ugly thoughts, on our beds?

The Pink Petal Army 

I stood there like a queen
Knowing these flowers have got my back
They are my army

I stood there like a queen
Knowing I have befriended the thorns
The petals have soaked my blood
And hence they bloom afresh with a new tint

I stood there like a queen
Mystified, how they have the same story to tell as me
Have they been in between the pages of my diary forever?

I stood there like a queen
Smiling with pride
Pride, which boasted of having a battalion
Of tissued petals
Of bright fuchsia flowers
Instead of piercing arrows and bullets

I stood there like a queen
Smirking, on how I have tamed
This wild bush
To be baneful to my enemies
And helpful to me.

I stood there like a queen
Feeling content in years
to have called something mine
Something other than my own conscience.



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