She never knew

She woke up looking like a crumbling statue, from a forgotten ruin of a long lost past. The askew sheets told a story of restless night spent tossing and turning between the sheets. She tasted bile in her throat, reminding her vaguely of waking up in the middle of the night to throw up the little food she had eaten from the take away she had bought along when returning from work. When was it. Yesterday? How long in the past was this yesterday? She fumbled to find her glasses from the table besides her bed. She squinted at the wall to see what time was it. She stared it for what seemed like an eternity waiting for clock’s hands to move only to realise they weren't moving at all. She kept her cellphone away from her in an attempt to force herself to wake up the first time the alarm on the phone went off. It was yet to work. The alarm would go off, automatically snooze for another 15 minutes to again ring and again snooze. She didn't know why did she still keep doing this. Maybe one day i will not curl up and go back to sleep when the alarm rings.

She got up from the bed to get the phone. She couldn't remember the date. Or day. The year eluded her for a minute. The old calendar on the wall hasn't seen a fresh page for months. The cellphone’s screen said it was a Saturday. Well, i don't need to get out of bed and drag myself to work today at least. That was a relief. She could feel a headache building up just behind her eyes. It has become a constant companion. Perhaps i should get my eyes tested. I might be losing my vision. She made a mental note to go see the optometrist soon.

There was no sun light in her room. Her tiny apartment faced another building that had other similar tiny apartments. The curtains filtered just enough daylight to let you know it wasn't night time.

Her days have been merging into one another, days into nights into days. Day after day. She hardly had met her friends after the last birthday party they had thrown for her. She couldn't muster up the courage to pick up the phone and call anyone. Talk to them, tell them she missed them. She felt she would be imposing herself on them. She never knew why.

She put on tea to boil, got her toothbrush & stared outside the window. It was a dull grey day. Humid. The stillness of summer heavy in the air. The sun was bright but it couldn't reach inside her and evaporate that greyness. Sipping her tea, flicking through the television, not seeing, she spent her morning hunched on her bed with a book besides her. Her mind and soul restless, fidgetting to get out there.
Somewhere. Away. She dreamed of packing her bags and getting on a long distance train. Get a window seat, peer out, wind in her hair. That made her smile sadly. Why don't i have the courage to do this. She didn't know why.

i found a piece

found myself a part of me,
in a mosaic, of broken waves,
and shores of gold.

i found myself, a part of me,
in the tinted orange skies,
of a winter morning,
and chattering teeth.

looking at the swing, found myself,
the park of forgotten childhood,
evenings & the fountain of a rushing day.

the shops across the road,
run around the alleys of vacations,
the simmer of the parched earth,
i found myself under a banyan tree.

outside the bus, window i found,
me on the road so wide, staring afar,
in the past of spring noons,
sparkling sunrays.

While the boat wobbled, on the oceans,
wide & blue, i saw below,
the bottomlessness,
i found myself a part of me.

the cobbled road, the centuries carrying brick,
steeped into the past, the crinkled faced,
a stranger's smile found me,
a part of me for me.

i saw myself, at the other end,
the reflection in your eyes,
dipped in chocolate. Smiling mischief,
sipping tea on a sunny day.

i did find a part of me.

I often think...

I often think
A lot; not much at times
Still like the lonely bench
On a promenade
Waves lashing over the reclaimed
Land; under the feet of strangers
Making passages of my story
A chapter of silence often,
Memories like the permanent crease
On an earmarked page
Of my life's book
Filled with words
Of banality, ennui, restless
Nights; and days filled with emptiness
Nerve wrecking pauses.
I often walk, or jog these thoughts
To lose them
Move without a map; lose them at a corner
Of an unmarked lane; a shop selling
Trinkets from someone's past
Pawned for another
These buyers unaware.
I sit looking at the face;
Of a jagged valley crisscrossing
 The cracked mirror
Reflection distorted, million pieces
For a path that may be mine A plan.
To reach there
Following with the finger tips
Blinking. Harsh light from a neon bulb
blurring the scars of time.
Things are incomplete
Unclimaxed; without an end to every evening
Maybe if I couldn't think at all.