A bubble in a desert.......

Those hands, they are here again,
I'm trying to break free, all in vain,

his eyes pierced through me,
as he stepped into borders too close to me,

a few minutes and it was all over,
my beautiful dreams were washed away in that shower,

he left me there crawled up with those dark shadows,
every night i sleep, I never miss these shows,

one day, it changed everything I knew,
he left me in a desert, smiles were few,

three years on and I am still trapped here,
these memmories refuse to clear,

but I swore not to let him win this,
I swore to rebuild my life, find my bliss,

I let my smile brighten the night,
I let the sunshine in, let the flowers bloom bright,

and I live now in this bubble thats full of my smiles,
this bubble of mine shall not break, but it will spread into the miles,

I shall not quit, I will stand tall,
my head held high, I will not fall.


Dedicated to someone who has lived on beyond this night mare and is very close to me.

All out of smiles!

To change a face is not new to me,
it aches my heart when I see,

My smile has bothered this one,
My happy dreams are all but done,

I know its untrue, this smile of mine,
But I thought it would make things fine,

A childlike mask I choose to wear,
I wish to hide this pain I bear,

My dear friend, I wish you knew,
my happy momments are but few,

I wish you'd let me be,
But this message shall forever remain with me!

Broken wings.... No more!

Standing tall in this basking sunrise,
I look at the receeding darkness behind me that lies,

Days, longer than decades, indifferent nights,
Enchanting memmories of sparks and lights,

Locked in a chest, wrapped and reachable to no one,
from fear of a new wound to this healing one

With the first ray of light, I look ahead, up at the blue, blue sky,
Ready to spread my wings, im all ready to take off and fly,

Fly into this world, thats all but brand new,
Its the same old me, but im born all anew,

Every day is an unknown journey,
Surprises for me are many,

And each one adds a new smile,
To my eyes thats has held tears for quite a while,

Its a new beginning, a new color that i add,
The right shade I paint, Im glad.

Subramani.

He walked into my house, his feet trying to balance what seemed like the debris of one of nature's cruel games. He was all but a person of two feet and yet it occured to me that he was taller than the giants that have ever walked these grounds. Not a trace of fear, of uncertainity, even as his eyes darted in opposite directions.

A noise was all he could produce, and it was all he needed. He used the only syllabl familiar to him to shout, plead and laugh. His response was simple. A cry to acknowledge. A nod to disagree. Violent anger as an after math to being the victim of forcible taming of his spirit. A very occasional but extraordinarily beautiful smile. I was blessed to see one, everytime he watched the pack of cards tumble to the ground from the basket he held upturned.

He was no loser, I could tell. He faught, at everything said to him. He was punished, for his arrogance. or was it his innocence? He never told. or did he not know? The burn on his fingers, the scar on his leg? Was it bravery or was it his inability?

He was a child afterall. Hunger escapes noone. But the pity was, when he begins to ask, we never know, its always the same sound. How will you ever know his likes, his dislikes, if he is full or is still hungry if you are the one who decides his meals.

When you go about your life, sinking in floods of tears over what seemed like earth-shattering problems and you meet Subramani, you realise your life is so simple, but you run behind every detail with a magnifying glass searching for something which could be wrong. You create your own problems. Expectations. Responses. Achievements. Loss. Love. You think Subramani understands any of these?But the irony is, when you loose value for any of these, you and subramani are on the same level and you just might be able to understand him, help him even, but the world around you will begin to give you the one thing you probably dont need, pity.

It aches me to watch, no not Subramani. He was born this way. It aches me that people around me can carry on their shoulders worries about their appearance, worries about another flat, another car. Ill never have respect for your palatial homes, the dress you have been flaunting. Your wealth is worth sawdust to me if you have no heart to give. Your status is as good as invisible if you cant help subramani. Your brand is the number on the criminal board you carry around, if you cant feed, cloth or help bring another beautiful smile on subramani's face.

Ill wait again..

Here it comes, the first drop,
On my hand it comes to a stop,
There are millions more to come,
As they land, a rhythm they drum.

On the thirsty, parched ground,
Engulfed in a familiar incense,
Memories escape, dancing all around,
It’s my renaissance.

Thunders warn of the wars waged,
The gods above, they seem raged,
With a flash their swords are drawn,
It’s a weighing of their brawn.

The punished and weak fall,
It was always meant to be,
Truth and strength stand tall,
Bliss and beauty are set free,

The winds, the dead they sweep away,
The streams, the sins they wash today,
A tender green life, it is brand new,
Has found a friend, a drop of dew,

It’s a new beginning, a new start,
The sun shines in golden rays,
But this is still a world apart,And I will wait again for those rainy days.

A message for you....

I live by a rule "Never underestimate the enemy!".

Your rules have been decided by the world around you and you choose to stick to them. Me? Oh I am a free spirit, I set my rules and live by them. If you knew me well you will expect nothin else... Ill stop at nothin to get what I want...

You began this war, and I chose to begin this battle. What did you expect? that Ill wash the ground you walked on? and that is why I began the battle? to reach you? My god... you are ignorant! I could never let my enemy out of my sight... just in case you really do stab me (for real this time... unlike your claim!)

But I seem to have made a mistake! You cant fight a battle without a worthy enemy! You have proved that... you have let your ego get to you ... yet again. If I were you, I would have played the cards close to my chest! It would be a fight in its true sense then! What you seemed to have missed is that this was not a fools game.. not a joke... It was the real thing... an oppurtunity to prove your uniqueness and "sense of authority"! you let it slip.

And If you did really know me.. you would know I wont make decisions based on stupid emotional comments.... thats your job! my ego aint as huge as yours and i aint as stupid as you to let any tom dick an harry prick it!

An I just realised you are so busy inflating your excessively large self esteem that you seem to have forgotten this word called "co-incidence"! A color? you are basing this on a color? or is it that you are the only teenage prodigy, who despite all the illnesses that fate has specially chosen for you, is capable of expressing a flair for writing?

I can see only one thing that seems to be good about what you have done.... you have taught me to "LET GO". Like I said you cant fight a battle with no worthy enemy. You are a fool if you believe this is my defeat.... You have already lost... the day you chose to say good bye to me!

My healing heart!

PROLOGUE

I wake with no strength, its another long losing battle, today,
The hands of meaningless chores push me through the dismay,

I await that moment when I start the next war, to pass this lonely night,
Aleast in this defeat, a short peaceful death will enclose my fright,

Im blinded by pain, a withered hope, beyond this I cannot see,
all that life has layed in my hands hardly matters to me,

It was just another rainy day as I stood alone on the sands,
I was sinking deep in my memmories, then I saw them, those hands.

MAIN

She walked up to me, and I knew it was an effort,
her eyes spoke a language, one I knew well, she was hurt,

time had passed the verdict, greying hair and wrinkles in cruel patterns,
she extended a hand, her story was not written in lines, only in scars and burns,

I never heard her, I knew what came through those lips, cracked and parched,
as she took my petty offering, a smile showed strength in a heart, so scorched,

Then I saw them, those tiny hands, weak and fragile, to her they clung,
they were unscathed, lines untouched, hopes of songs to be sung.

EPILOGUE

She walked away, carrying a burden that was not her own, but I chose to stay,
stay at that moment of my life, when I found myself, found my way,

I found a reason, to live on, to fight with strength and courage,
this war is not my own though, it wont be one with hate or rage,

I will help build dreams of those lines in her hands, I will heal some wounds,
In hope of soothing their pain, Ill leave my own marooned,

Ill stand alone on the sands again, on rainy days, waiting,
not to drown in my memmories, for other hands, full of dreams, Ill be waiting.

How am I different?

Tell me how I am different? is it my color?
No I am not black, I earn no favour,

I live not in castles of gold, its not always peace,
I watch as the plate empties its bread, down to the last piece,

My father offers the world's prayers to the gods above,
I am his little girl, his hope, his prayer, his love,

I dream of an honour, of this thing so noble,
I strive, I watch the lamp die out on this table,

I forget to smile, I forget to eat, sleep has long been gone,
Maybe I have left this, maybe that, Im down to my last bone,

This day decides what is to come, what will I be,
I am an equal in every sense it seems to me,

Then it is snatched away from me, this dream,
Why, I fail to understand, I ask, even scream,

My father holds my hand, tears in eyes he says,
We are forward, your fate was decided in ancient days,

Tell me how I am different? did I not strive?
To save a life, to bring a new one, how could you deprive?

Tell me how I am different? did I not earn?
To relieve pain, how can I not learn?

Tell me how I am different? am I at fault?
this caste, this class I never saught,

And so I go on, on to what I can be, I know it wont be the same,
My passion, my spirit is gone, who should I blame?


I dedicate this poem to all those young minds who shared this dream, to those growing individuals who I hope will find strength in their hearts to live with this curse that our ancestors have bestowed our nation with!