Encounter.

You will come to me in the hour I wait for you.
In the shadow places I will wait.
You will come in green fire
and bloody footprints.
A broken bell in a broken chapel will toll
your arrival.
Your heart will be wrapped in silver foil.
And it will smell whiter than stones over an icy stream.
The perfect gift.
But you will not remember me.
Your eyes will be buried in my sockets.
And the sliver of your tongue between my lips
 will call my name.
The rose of my youth fades to blue.
A hundred bees stung my mouth.
I couldn’t save sweet honey for you.
Still you will come to me in the hour I wait.
This time- you will.
You always do.

A Perfect Memory

Tonight was different.

I closed my eyes and the silver moonlight glazed beneath my eyelids. It was getting harder to remember all the details, but one day, one perfect day remained etched in my mind. It was time. And I was going to put things right for us.

There had been a day when we had wandered through fields of clove, bathed in birdsong. The day was warm and uncertain. Spring sunlight seeped through rain-soaked leaves and the air was blurred and pungent with blossom, earth and damp. The space between us was charged with poignancy that lay in long-forgotten cities.

We came into an overgrown garden, starred pink with wildflowers. Springstruck, I moved, tranced through exotic scents that seemed so familiar yet unknown. A house was soon discovered at the top of the garden. Above the porch an odd rectangle of brickwork remained bare, shadowed by faint markings that looked like runes.

I drew closer to the ancient drawings. Letting my fingers run over the etchings, almost smoothed over by Time. “What IS this place?” I wondered aloud.

“It’s been here forever. I come down here to be with myself at times.” He replied.

Inside was a dusty rocking chair, ancient as its surroundings, and paintings of unknown people smiled at me from all directions. He pulled a footstool forward and placed it in front of the rocking chair.

I looked at him questioningly. “I want to paint your feet.” Then he bent down to untie my violet sandals....
                                        ***

I opened my eyes. The Moon had disappeared. Shane was dead now. I wish I had inherited a cold, passionless nature that would help me put it all behind and move on. I did have a powerful longing to pack my bags and never return. But here I was again.

I rocked slowly back and forth on the ancient rocking chair. Every creak made me more numb. I turned the lighter over between my fingers. What was I thinking? Shane would have never wanted this. But Shane was gone now and I did not care what he thought anymore.

Time stood still. And still I stared down at the death-tool in my fingers. “Toils of enchantment” I said. Then I put the lighter down and walked into the night.

The stars screamed silently at me.

 _____________________________________________________________
Jan 2010

                                                                                            

FAITH

                                          

                                      

  Faith ran barefoot across the patch of sun dried grass that comprised of half the courtyard.The visitors had had to wait a minute longer than required. As Matron of St.Jude's Boarding School,Shillong, she wouldn't normally be running such errands. But most of the managing staff were to return later that week and this was an on-the -spot admission.

  She reached the large iron gate and unlocked it. And then held her breath. The broad-leaved trees cast a shadow on their faces. A dark haired man stood there, holding a little girl by the hand. Faith smiled tremulously. "I'm sorry for the delay, Sir. Please do come in."

  He picked up his dusty traveler's suitcase and stepped onto the premises of what had been her home for the past nine years of her life. The winter Sun smiled on his handsome face and reflected off the pools of darkness that were his eyes. Something unquiet stirred in the depths of her heart.

  Pulling her veil lower onto her face she directed the man silently to the Principal's office. He spoke in whispers to the little girl holding his hand. And she couldn't hear exactly what he was saying, but it seemed like he was trying to calm her fears about the new place and the people. When she was within earshot, he was reassuring the girl that he would be back before Christmas and that was when Faith realised nothing had changed. Rob was the same reassuring man he had been ten years ago.

 Faith remembered the first time she had seen him. He was dressed in cricket whites, waiting for his turn to bat- a crusader leaning on his sheathed sword. A gentle Knight in a world then crowded with possibility. No opportunity cancelled, no prospect rendered void. Almost instantly she had fallen in love with him.

 But Rob had other plans. Faith being the Pastor's daughter had not had much of a choice but to watch as he boarded the train that would take him away from her.
"Good Lord, Faith!
 You don't have to cry!
 I'll be back in December."

 Nine Decembers had passed since that day.
Startled, she realised they had reached the Principal's office. Rob was finalising his daughter's admission. His daughter. Faith reminisced the times they had thought of all the names of their unborn children and ended up laughing together. She felt like laughing all over again.

She had learnt a few things in her time -one was to live with grief, or rather to live without it, beyond it. She had been alone a long time now. Existing, she thought, not only beyond grief, but also beyond love. Intimations of the past lay all about her and in her solitude, she chose to remember, to forget, to rearrange. Only very rarely, was she caught unawares, as of now. It left her shaken and gasping, clutching at the walls of her mind for support.

 But now Rob was coming downstairs with the girl. She stood at the end of a long winding staircase, almost ready to flee, when he stopped her. "Matron! I want you to take care of my little Rose. I don't want her to miss her Mummy while she's here." he smiled. The girl clung to him in a way that would have made the earlier version of herself cry.

 "And Daddy, wont you miss him too?" questioned Faith, when the girl's father had gone on ahead. The child looked down at her feet. "Daddy's always beside me in everything I do, wherever I am. I never miss him"

And Faith understood.

    ______________________________________________________________________

Jan 2009

Lines.

So I found this little book that had curious little lines scribbled by me over the past one year.
Runny lines, scrawly lines, scraggly lines, whory lines.
Here’s a glimpse at some of them...

"No I dont know you for very long.
And I dont even think I care.
I see your face when I sleep at night.
And trace your name in the morning air."

"Talking about Music is like Skywriting in Braille."


"The amount you study is inversely proportional to the number of days you have left for the exams!"


 "I'm still your beginning.
 And you're still my end.
And our paths converge even though they sometimes bend."


"Yeah, I know you love her.
She has nice hair.
 And you always preferred girls that were fair.
She thinks you stopped fagging- just for her sake.
I smile as I take a drag from your Gold Flake. :)
At least this time I'm happy to see-
Your lying and cheating didnt stop with me. ;-)"

 "These days when I think about Love- Its like smelling Sunshine, seeing Music, hearing Cinnamon Rolls or Cheese Fondue, tasting a Rainstorm... I cant think about a specific name or face or object. Lucky are the people who can see a specific form or shape when they think about Love."


"Had I learnt the notes to your heart,
I could have effortlessly put it to song.
But sometimes sunlight scorches a dewdrop,
A good thing turns out to be wrong.

Frequent storms wreck our minds,
Foundations crumble under our feet,
But we don't fear tomorrow anymore,
In Time again, we will meet.

""Early morning rain- so beautiful."

"I silently laugh at my own cenotaph 
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, 
I arise, and unbuild it again."

"I only talk to you when it suits me, and you know what? I'm awesome, so fuck you.
:D"

Darkling I listen and many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death. Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme..."

"The truth is... anyone can be sad. But happy? It takes courage to be happy."


"Thank you for those who believed in me, even when I didn't."


"Im like a shooting star... I've come so far... I can't go back to where I used to be."


"‎"You are late for this class!" "No, no... I'm early for the next."


"Diamond studded inky blue firmament.... Look how they shine for you


"Then- I came. I saw. I conquered.... Now- I saw. I conquered. I came. :-P


"For they could not love you, but still your love was true. And when no hope was left in sight, on that starry, starry night- you took your life as lovers often do... =( *Vincent*


"It is our choices Harry that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." - Albus Dumbledore"


"Cloudscapes reflected in clear pools of still black water. A happy place."


"Old problems do not go away. New problems just become more important to distract you from them."


"I keep you in a flower vase.
With your fatalism and your crooked face.
With the daisies and the violet brocades.
And I keep me in a vacant lot.
In the ivy and forget-me-nots.
Hoping you will come and untangle me one of these days."

Playlist.

Ever wondered the complexities of a playlist?

Or why your night music differs vastly from your day music?

They say each song is connected to a memory.

There are times when the radio, your phone and your Mp3 player can be your worst enemies.

Listening to the same songs over and over again is not the thing you should do when you want to glaze over certain events in life, trying to neatly put them away at the back of your closet.

You know what comes out from the back of  a closet?
Not skeletons.
But an old lyric book and Happy Birthday music CD's.

Forget about incantations and affirmations, if you want to change anything in life-

Start with your Playlist.

Favourite Night Song.

Backspacer.

There have been so many times when I have wanted to leave all this and run back to the place I left behind where some loved me but I loved you instead and most hated me for it, but it was enough that I had you and I would do anything to get it back.

There have been so many times when I have wanted to leave this and run back to the place I left behind where some loved me and most hated me but none of that mattered to me because I was too caught up in my misery to care about anything except us.

There have been so many times when I have wanted to leave this and run back to the place I left behind where I felt secure in the knowledge of my failures and they were these scented flames in my life that alternately blinded and  burnt me whenever I least expected them.

There have been so many times when I have wanted to leave this and run back -to you, to our love, to what I used to feel when I was with you and what it changed me into.

There have been so many times when I have wanted to remain anonymous while writing a letter to you and slide it under your door but I can't find you anywhere.

There have been so many times when I have wanted to tell you exactly what I feel when you ask me how I am now and whether I am happy in this place.

                        ***
Q: What's up? How have you been? How're you liking the place?



A: There have been so many...things up with me these days!!! Just LOVE the city!! Really busy! - With class and assignments and shit like that. Sorry for the late reply. Facebook chat is a bitch!! Catch you later!
                      ***

Observation- Exclamation Marks lie.

Emotionally Colourblind.

Tell me this is what normal people feel. This is what they live everyday, every minute of their existence. This feeling of... Nothingness. I think this is what a practical person would say an adult life feels like. Trudging through the minutes, hours, days... feeling wasted.
Well, don't get me wrong. I'm sure I know how to behave by now, to convey feelings. It's simple really.

Case 1.  When You Are With Family-  Stretch facial muscles till lips join into a straight line. Purse above mentioned lips into an upward curve. This is called a Smile. Don't show teeth.

Case 2.  When You Are With Friends (Guys)- Shove left hand in pocket. Swing phone from right palm casually. Let eyes graze over the screen every 15 mins.  Broaden mouth to part lips and show teeth. This is called a Grin.

Case 3. When You Are With Friends (Girls)-  *Everyone Starts Discussing Their Love Life* Smile, as in Case 1. Put a suddenly vibrating phone to your left ear and excuse yourself. Run.

Case 4. When A Guy/Girl Hugs You (Friendly)- Don't. Look. Up. Let left and right arms not do anything.

Case 5. When A Guy Hugs You (Romantically)-  Close eyes. Breathe Even. Do NOT think about how many bluebirds flew around Tom's head when Jerry hit him with that broomstick last night. Bring left palm up to Guy's chest slowly. Don't shove.

See?

Feelings are way over rated anyway. It's all in the gestures. You know all the names -  Happiness, Politeness, Fun, Desire, Companionship- the 'dictionary definitions' of it...You know the way to enact it all ... but you know what?

It doesn't mean an effing thing to you.
Because you can't feel it.
You try hard. But the essence of the emotion perpetually evades you.
(Note to self- Must Stop Watching Dexter).

Lord knows what I'd do for a little Sincerity  right about now.
And a little Hope.
But then again, A little Hope is a dangerous thing.
I'm probably better off this way.
Some things are better off when they are broken.. like... umm... Noodles.

And that's my cue to end this post right HERE.

Goodnight, Normal People.
Its good to be you.

Write.

They said, ‘you should write...’

I wasn’t so sure. I mean- seriously? After all the time and effort I put into getting things that went around in my head  under control, they just want me to put it bare on a page. A page that can be read. By everybody. On the internet.
Ha.
Like that’s ever gonna happen.

Hello.
My name is Alisha.
And I have seriously no idea what I’m doing here.
On this blog I mean.
Well, I’m supposed to write because it apparently will help me feel better.
Catharsis?
Fuck.

I can’t sleep tonight. I finally got what I had been searching for- after say a year and a half. And now it’s the end of the chase for me. Got a few days left for the culmination of it and after that I’ll have the solitary purpose of my existence snatched away from me and put into a single page of memory buried at the back on the highest shelf of a library nobody even visits anymore.
Convoluted metaphor... Phew.

Apart from this pursuit that’s headed for its swan song, I also seem to be completely disillusioned after my somewhat happy relationship went kaput. I mean, I made it go kaput. Guess I got tired after I realised it wasn’t what I wanted. So much for happiness.

Alright then, I’m 21. I have a lot of good going on for me- like my career and academics. (Huh?) So why can’t I dwell on that? And leave this out for good? I mean, I wait 1.5 years for some fuck to say- “You were right Alisha, for believing that I would return.” “True love has to be mutual and it’s with you.”  Some cheesy line like that...But that is not what has happened.  Instead I get a genial ‘let’s share this final cuppa black coffee Love Aaj Kal style and then fuck outta each other’s lives.’

Charming. Not.

My own personal ‘Araby’, I’d say.  (Read the short story by James Joyce if you haven’t already. Masterpiece that.) But then again, if I didn’t find him, I would have still been searching, so it’s good that it’s coming to an end at this point, however tragic.



 It’s amazing how good writing 400 words can make you feel. I would rather be typing a term paper... but what the hell. They were right. The voices never lie. You can look at the truth only from a peaceful place, and suddenly I’m there tonight.

And so we wait.
Tik Tik.
Tok Tok.Tik Tok.

I’ve come to bridges before. (No, No... Not Golden Gate or the one at Howrah )... and I’ve crossed them and burned them down. And after these last few days it will be over for good.
Can’t say I’m not relieved.
And if I’m lucky enough..
Maybe I’d even fucking get to sleep.

Reader,

Tonight I don’t want to write.

I want to close my eyes and imagine him with me.

I want to flee to a distant land.

Of oases and light houses and

Build castles in the sand.

But I cannot sleep.

I listen to tales of love lost on the radio.

Music should not make one so blue.

This growing up is difficult.

A butterfly with wings of dew.

Spinning till it hits the ground with futile finality.

It does not permit me to dream.

There are so many things I do not know.

Yet I feel so old.

I am but wisps of colourless smoke.

I could not break the mould.

I am taught there are more important things in life.

Success, Money, Power, Happiness...

Happiness?

And see Reader, we are back to square one.

What happiness can a broken family or a sordid love affair provide you?

But I have known others who have survived on less.

I am finally cured of Hope.

Thank you, World.

But this much I know that when my newborn cries

I will not teach his eyes

to dream.

Dreams are but a pack of lies

 for successful human beings.

                    ***

Suppose I called you up tonight
And told you that I love you.
And suppose I said I want to come back home,
And suppose I cried and said I think I finally learned my lesson.
And Im tired of spending all my time alone.
If I told you that I realized you're all I ever wanted.
And it's killing me to be so far away,
Would you tell me that you love me too.
And would we cry together,
Or would you simply laugh at me and say...


"I told you so, Oh I told you so,
I told you some day you'd come crawling back,
And asking me to take you in,
I told you so, but you had to go,
Now I've found somebody new,
And you will never break my heart in two again."

If I got down on my knees,
And told you I was yours forever.
Would you get down on yours too and take my hand
Would we get that old-time feelin'?
Would we laugh and talk for hours?
The way we did when our love first began?
Would you tell me that you've missed me too?
And that you've been so lonely?
And you've waited for the day that I returned?
And we'd live and love forever?
And that I'm your one and only?

Or would you say "the tables finally turned.."

Would you say...

"I TOLD YOU SO". 

Sometimes... Nov 2010

They tell me it is over.
There is nothing more to say.
And that lovers always come.
And then lovers always go away.
I look away.
They smile.
(I thought that you would stay).

Rest my head awhile. 
'Cause tomorrow is a new day.
" A new beginning," say they.
Judgement.
"Not worthy of your love."
"You deserve better."
I bite my lip.
(I thought that you would stay.)

"You are a fool."

"No, He was a fool."

"Oh my dear, Fate can be so cruel."
 *Sigh*

Enough for today.
I take a walk. 
I clear my head. 
I look up.
The sky is the same for you and me.
 (Yes, I  thought that you would stay.)

November.
It never rained.
No matter how much I prayed.

I see you in town.
With someone new this time around.
Emulate you.
And this is what they say-

"A girl should wait."
"He cant come back now, after you..."
“I understand, but practically it cant..."
"No wonder he didn't stay."

I sit down.
Hug my knees to my chin.
And wait.
You will be back. (Won’t You?) You must.  (No, You must!) 

"Sad crazy girl." says one.
 Another- "Its just lust."I need a place to hide away.
(I thought that you would stay)

Where are the tears?
It’s about time they fell.
Nine months.
My own personal road to Hell.

"He won’t be back." (Won’t be back?)
But you must. ( Must, I said!)
(Can you hear me?)Must!
Stay.
Please....
 (I thought that he would stay). 

Its So Easy...

Its so easy you know-
To give it all up and let it all go.
No more staying awake till four.

Its so easy you know-
To lean into his side and kiss his lips.
Perfect rainy evenin, nothin amiss.
And when his hands reach my hips...
All I gotta do- is close my eyes and think its you.

 Its so easy you know-
 To let you live your happy ending.
 To laugh with friends while I'm pretending- 
That I'm over you and my heart is mending
And I'm not crying when every message that I'm sending-
 Returns undelivered.

 So damn easy.

Even Heroes Have The Right To Bleed

“You tried to fight it. You couldn’t hide it.”

See-sawing between extremes of emotions can take its toll on anybody. But it’s worse because you’d rather be a nobody. Your world was divided into two kinds of people.  The ones that cared and the ones who you wanted care from. Poor soul, never had a chance, did you?

Can anybody go through torment and come out not twisted? The answers are tattooed on the inside of your left wrist. Alphabet scars. That’s what’s left of the times when you believed that finally, finally, this time it would be alright.

Okay, so you broke. But then why is it imperative that you put the pieces back together and move on?  You’re better off broken because nobody can kill something that is long dead. Little consolation for the soul.

So then what happens to all the things you wanted? Do you just give it up? Do you remake your wishlist, knowing all the time that shooting stars and eyelash wishes and 11:11 don’t work in the world today? Is there a place where you are safe anymore? Or can you be with anyone that will not hurt you- willingly?

Some say your own head is your only haven. But I don’t perceive it as a refuge. It’s like being quarantined. Oh, the world is not treating you right, so You gotta  retreat into this place where the rooms are ochre and there are lilies in long necked vases. But you cant smell them anymore.

Some say that you gotta love yourself. Because if you cant love yourself and cant keep yourself happy, how can you expect someone else to do it for you?

So I love myself sometimes. Most of the time I do not.  And I left to see who will miss me. But they forgot.

And now the only thing that was really my own, other than my name- my will to survive, my will to endure, my will to tell the rest of the world that hope is not dead- is gone. Disillusionment? I shudder to think that it might be.

And then I come across some old, familiar faces, many of them people with seemingly ‘happy’ lives today.  Did I not teach them how to take what you want if it makes you happy? How it felt to be lost and abandoned? How to cry their first real tears for a woman?  Was I not the reason for the change in their playlists and increase in alcohol? Did I not teach them about life and growing up?

I have been the first for many.  And I would like to believe that they are happy now because they won’t commit the same mistakes they made with me. And now they run away to their little virgin girlfriends, afraid to hurt them.

“Well, you know what it’s like. You’ve been through this and you’ve come out strong. But she, she’s new to all this. She won’t be able to take it.”

 So, experience and pain. “ This is my gift, my curse,” huh?  As somebody told me once- “You can live with that.”   So in a way, in a seemingly unbelievable way I would like to think that I saved them.

 I am a Superhero.

Who will save me?