Rockets

If the moment is not gone and I’m still there with you, standing at the bus stop, holding your hand or kissing your lips, and letting you go home with that small carton of big rockets so that I could go home and reflect on how terribly I’m going to miss you dear, celebrate today. Celebrate this festival, not for your dad, neither for your mother, sister or brother, no, not for me, but for yourself, for your tender beating heart that thumps against my shivering hands. I will tell you why. Because your heart beats instead of being wounded, because your heart loves instead of being tired, because your heart is full of truth and full of warmth. I know, I have seen that person behind that beautiful face.

I know why you heal people, you guide them to find the peace and protection, you think that healing them will heal your heart somewhere, that your heart will be set free of the rue of your past. But healing people isn’t going to heal your heart, healing your heart is going to heal your heart. Though your love is fearless, your heart needs to breakfree from the fear yet. Those wounds aren’t going to heal themselves, that beautiful heart deserves your kindness, dear.

So if the moment is not gone and I’m still on your skin or standing in front of you and smiling stupidly while staring at the perfect symmetry of your face, if the moment is still there in the gaps of our crossed fingers, go and light these rockets today. And with each of them, rid your heart of the most excruciating pains and watch them shoot to the sky and blast away like bubbles. Just believe that you tied the weights of your heart with those flying crackers and let them burn. I know I might sound stupid to you when I ask you to do this. But then you know that you sound stupid to me too when you tell a few alien things, but I believe them because I put my faith in your palms which I kiss so tenderly as if my lips could hurt them. I do not trust yet, but I believe. There’s a difference between trusting and believing. Trust requires proof while believing requires faith. In time I’ll get there, I’ll start trusting too. But for now, I believe. You know that it’s all about believing. So believe me and burn those rockets and let everything, every pain of your past go blast with them. Maybe the number of your pains would outrun the rockets, but we will get to the end of it, you will get to the end of it once you start. And save the last rocket for your newly found love, not me, but the love that you’ve found with me. The love that makes you strong, save the last rocket for it. And take a deep breath, let your tears roll and bless the sky, like you bless everyone, bless yourself that you are capable of loving and living, bless yourself that your heart needs to let go, bless yourself that you are bigger than those who hurt you, and then light the last rocket, watch it shoot to the sky and the universe will know that you’ve forgiven yourself for being so harsh on you. I want you to celebrate, to know that this festival is for you too and that a new light is coming to you and you will find your own way to a happier life where the past won’t haunt you anymore.

So if the moment is still not gone and you are breathing on my face or holding me closer to your chest, I want to whisper in your ear that I love you dear and it is going to be a great year and I love you.

Go, celebrate this festival and burn the old house down, we have to build a new home. Make love to your heart.

PS- the rockets may not blast, so just close your eyes and pretend that they do. It’s all about believing.

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After

I’m not perfect and I love you

You know that

Sometimes I’d do some terrible things

And regret them for days even though you’d ask me not to

Sometimes I’d not do some terrible things

And still regret them for days even though you’d ask me not to

Sometimes I’d hurt you because I’m hurting

These are my flaws

They are not too many but surely are too much

Can you handle them?

It is not a task, it is not something to bind you down

Living with me it is

I know you’d figure it out, you have your way with things

Only if, you know that I love you and I’d do anything for you

It’s not everyday that I’d find you

And I don’t know if I can keep you happy

But I’d try, try in our ways

I may often bring trouble with me

But I know you know it and still you’ve loved me

I am not perfect but I’d try anything for you

And I want to stay by you

And I just want to make you smile

And I know I’d never let you down knowingly

And maybe I’ll make you a family

Do you love me? Still?

After?

What Are You?

I guess we both aren’t coming up

Everytime my fingers run over you

You sink deeper into my heart

I sink deeper into your skin

And that’s a comfort there

In the warm core of your youth

On subtle, soft flesh I run miles

The rhythm of your melodies

The charm of the words falling out of your mouth

The lips that curve perfectly

Like a goddess celebrating her body

Like a mighty lord channeling his power

Like a butterfly breaking through the cocoon

You make an intimidating appearance

You dawn upon me like desire to a devil

You make me wanna cry profusely

So perfect at symmetries, how could it be?

Those fingers, those legs, that sweet mouth I taste

Have I ever tasted anything sweeter than, before?

You’re a greed to my eyes

A power to my waist

A passion to my jittering brain

A dark desire to my losing heart

Everytime I lie with you

Every inch of your skin on my skin

Each moment of your mouth on my mouth

Liberation comes through bed

Liberation comes through this perilous lust

Liberation comes through holding you naked

And this wasted youth is wasted even more on you

And then you ask if I’m in it?

I was into you the very first time I saw you

Through the glass of now broken glasses

I guess I saw you and told myself that I wanted it

Every inch of your mighty thrust

Every bud of that moving tongue

Every strand of those dark brown hair in my fingers

Yes, I wanted it all the moment I saw you

I was conscious

I was wondering if I looked good enough

But then you made it feel like unnecessary

Bowled me over my senses

Belittled me with those bewitching glances

Sorcerer, I thought to myself

How could someone be so majestic?

That it makes me want to cry

Makes me want to worship

Take you in my mouth and blow your mind

Show you that you’re wanted

That you’re cared for

That you’re a dark desire to someone

That you make it hard to breathe at times

That you make me want to write poems

That you make me a little more like you

I expand, I swear I expand

And now it feels like I’m bigger than before

You’re an enchantress

You’re a magician and I’ve become a trick

Oh and when you lie on me

Can I describe that feeling?

The way you guide my limbs when we do it

The way you move my waist

Or work my body in a hundred ways

Can I express those moments?

Words will fall short

God, you make me imbecile

What are you?

Mighty Mortals

Hiruni sat on the rock under the shade of the oak tree and hugged her son Janith to shelter him through the apocalyptic night, from the heavy rain which had fallen along with the cities around. Everything around her, in the cities, in the villages, in the deep mountain jungles, in the valleys, in the concrete; everything, around her, was blown to smithereens and the smithereens were quivering in the treacherous rain, just like her faith. No help was going to arrive; she knew that she had to reach to the safe zone at the north end. Tears spilt from her eyes but her wet face didn’t let the drops make past her cheeks, the water on her face dissolved them, just like the water around her had dissolved everything into it. The winds were still fierce; her bones were cracking up against the heavy gusts. What a misery had befallen. The demon had danced in front of her eyes in the southern region; half of the country was wiped out to the bricks and stones in that cataclysmic event. As far as she looked, it was only Janith and she; were there any other survivors out there?

She had seen people dying in the blink of an eye and homes collapsing and drifting away in the cyclone. They knew it was coming, they were prepared for it, but what came along with it made everything crumble and fall. The cyclone, Maha Sohona, was followed by an earthquake of 9.7 magnitudes. The cyclone was heavy-lifted, it wasn’t what was expected, a class five instead of class three. Nature was going against the civilization and it was just the starting. Did they have to try to control the weather? Was the project end of the world? People had warned, protests were made, factories shut down but nothing worked. The scientists did what they had to do. And the result was this, after a month of successfully, how much though, managing the weather at the human kind’s own will, nature was going to take it back, perhaps, for good.

She had lost her husband to the earthquake. Had it not been for the concrete bunker that her home was, she would have been dead along with Janith. But nature’s play was not over yet, it had just begun.  And carrying a child who suffers from asthma was only going to add to her hurdles in finding the safe zone. She had to find medication for him before he got another attack, she had to find food for him, her broken arm was not that a big concern for her anymore. The survival instincts were pumping enough estrogen into her veins to make her forget her physical pain.

It was almost midnight when she fell asleep under the strong oak tree which had withstood the cataclysm just like both of them. Deadly rain poured all night, often waking her up from her famished sleep. The thick oak tree protected her from the winds and the rain until the light reigned once again to lead her in the wake of destruction.

The storm hadn’t dropped its powers yet, there was no possibility that nature was going stop any sooner. The grey light broke through the stormy black clouds, accompanying the thunder in the sky. This morning was different; there were no birds, no car horns, no people and no homes. The only thing that made its presence noticeable was the wind lamenting over the deaths of a million people. Janith was still asleep in her arms. It is strange how much trust a child could put in his parent. He had slept through the night, where yesterday only he was inconsolable and scared to death, today in the morning, he had found relief in his mother’s arms. Maybe he knew that she would not fail him. Looking at him made Hiruni cry, she had to protect him. She woke him up for the water in the area had started to rise, she had to migrate to a higher altitude and reach the northern region where things were better presumably, maybe she would get shelter and safety.

With the sounds of thunder accompanying their footsteps, they began. Walking through the gusts of wind was like cutting through the water. Janith was wet since yesterday, his coughing had started now that he had woken up. She had to find a shelter as soon as possible. They kept on walking, without stopping for a second for the broken, fallen and smashed trees, for the destructed land, over the debris of the houses, schools, hospitals and whatnot, over the dead bodies waiting for the decay. Her eyes were scanning everything on the way, her hope was dwindling. Though there were a few houses that seemed to have withstood the catastrophe, they were completely sterile for the purpose of shelter. They were ripped off of their walls at places and were still being tested.

The whole afternoon passed, they stopped and started again a few times. They had not come across a single living being so far. Were they the only ones remaining? The answer came from an unlikely place. On their right side, there was a partially destroyed home; a yellow light was funnelling through the broken window of the fractured wall. Someone was there. She hurried Janith along with her to the door.

“If somebody is inside, please open the door,” she cried but nature was crying louder than her. She waited, there was no response, she panicked and started to struggle with the door with her left hand. Someone opened it from inside. There stood a man in front of her; his face was painted in dry blood that had oozed from the wound in his head. “Please help us, please,” she begged. The man stood for a while as if he was lifeless, then he moved to one side drowsily and let them in. He gave them clothes with a grieving heart and whatever food he had with a shivering hand. His face was pale and eyes red.

“It took everything I had; my wife, my three daughters. They all are buried in the debris of my own home,” he started to cry as he spoke to Hiruni, “I saw the back of our home falling upon them,” he could not stop his tears, “when I woke up at the night, I tried to pull them out from there,” tears kept rushing, “I don’t know why I am still alive,” he fell on his knees. He screamed, he lamented, he hit his hands on the floor. She was sitting on the bed along with her son; she understood the pain he was going through but there was nothing that she could do to comfort him. She hugged Janith who had started to cry seeing the man like that. She tried to comfort her son until he pointed her attention at the man. There was a pistol in his hands, he was looking at it with a face which showed no terror but a remorse that had consumed him, “I was going to shoot myself before I saw you two outside,” he put the gun to his temple. Before that Hiruni could stop him he pulled the trigger. The sound of the bullet overlapped the sound of the storm outside. The very next moment his brain was splattered on the wall by his side. Janith screamed with terror and vomited. Quavering with terror, chocked, Hiruni hugged her son. She felt his breath, it was not normal. She pulled the inhaler out of his pocket immediately, shook it and made him inhale. It was the last dose they had for him but the dose was not enough. She made him sit on his knees and hands to relieve the pressure from his diaphragm; It took him ten minutes to get back to the normal. She had to wait for the storm to get over.

The wait was over by the evening. Finally, the storm had gone and the wind had slowed down. They had spent their whole day in the home with a dead man lying on the floor. Hiruni had not let Janith look at the dead body or the wall. He had fallen asleep once again in her arms. The sound of rain and howling winds stopped outside, she woke Janith up and led him outside of the home with his eyes closed. She asked Janith to stay there and went inside to scavenge.  She returned with the pistol, a torch and a few bananas and a bottle of drinking water tied to a cloth.

The scene outside was scarier after the storm. Maha Sohona had left bereavement and annihilation all over. The sound of silence was creepier than the sound of the storm she realised. Water had logged up to two feet in that area, she could only imagine the submerged areas she had left last night. There were just a few trees standing tall, barely. Everything else was broken on the water.

They still had two hours of light to move ahead. After walking for one and half hour she saw something horrendous. She covered Janith’s eyes again. Finally, there was someone else alive in front of her. The sight was horrible to her guts but at least they were not alone. There were some dogs who were feeding on the dead body of a man, tearing the flesh from the bones. One of the dogs saw them and growled, warning them not to come closer to their food. She and Janith stepped backwards. Janith did not speak a thing; he had not spoken a thing since yesterday. The dog got back to devouring the dead flesh.  They walked away from the dogs.

The last light was gone long past from the sky. They had come across a few animals in past five hours, which was a sign that they were not far away from the help, from the living. They were tired and needed to relax but the next city, or whatever had remained of it, was just two kilometres away. She hoped that she would find help there, so they kept on walking. Once they reached to the ruins of the city, the disappointment hit her. It was the same, a cemetery of civilization.

Just when she thought that there was no hope, she saw a flashlight a little far away from her, approaching her. She flashed the torch, it was a man. He was holding a lumber in his hand and walking towards them speedily. Her instant instinct was to run but she stayed, she flashed her torch at him again and noticed that it was not a single man but there were three. It did not take her long to realize that there was something sinister about them. They started to run in the opposite direction, through the lanes, walking through the debris and demolished buildings.

“Catch her,” shouted one man from behind. She could not risk making Janith run for longer, lest he would get asthma attack again. Either way, they were in danger. They lost the men on a turn and hid Janith in one of the ruined buildings. Giving him the pistol and edible she promised him that she would return soon. “Shoot at anyone who comes at you,” she had never thought that she would teach his son t kill. But it was the only thing she could teach him now. “And do not come out, no matter what,” she whispered and kissed him on the ear. She picked an iron rod from the floor and stepped outside. She could not risk hiding for a long time, Janith did not have enough time before he got another attack. She had to fight them and leave that city. She walked through the lane with great caution, looking around. There was no one. She had barely got into the next lane when someone kicked her from behind. She fell on the ground and the iron bar slipped away from her right hand. It hurt her broken arm and she fumbled in pain.

“Where do you think you are going?” one man shouted at her in a nasty tone, “don’t worry, you are going to enjoy it bitch.” She cried lying on the floor. She wished they would rape her and leave her. That was the only thing she could wish for now.

“Where is the son of the bitch?” another man shouted with intense lechery.

“We don’t need him,” said the third one and embraced her face, “we need her.”

“Fuck her but I need him,” he said. All the pain in her body was taken over by a chill which left her numb for a few moments. She turned and looked at them with a horror on her face. How was she going to save Janith from them? The world seemed to have stopped moving, it was over for her. She prayed to her gods to not let them find Janith. The same man hit her on her face with his knuckle, “where is your son, bitch?” holding her by her chin he screamed at her. Her nose bled, she was shivering with fear. Janith was listening to all of it from his building from around the corner in that ghost-town, but he had not stepped out as his mother had asked him not to.

“Enjoy with her now you motherfucker, we will find his son for you after killing her,” said the first man. She felt like she was a chicken stuck in a wolf’s den. Her mind had gone numb. One man grabbed her by her hair and pulled her upwards and started to tear her clothes apart, she was so shaking that she could not protest, she could not scream but hang there in their grip like a dead body. Janith was listening; the absence of his mother’s sound startled him.

She was almost naked, yet she offered no resistance. The man threw her on the ground and dropped his pants, saliva dripped down from his ugly bruised lips into his vomit covered beard. His stern dick hung from his body, he came to his knees and touched her legs. She lay there like she was lifeless, shivering and shocked. He caressed her legs and his hands reached to her vagina when a bullet went through his neck. It splattered the blood all over her abdomen and the men fell on her, holding his neck, gurgling the blood and writhing in pain. Other two men looked at Janith who was standing there with the gun aimed at them, “let… m..my …mumm..my go,” said Janith almost losing his breath. One of them charged at Janith who closed his eyes and pulled the trigger again. The Bullet went through his heart and he fell lifeless to the ground. Janith cried, “Go,” persistently, pleading with the third man, who, caught up in the horror, ran away.

Janith ran to Hiruni and helped her get up on her trembling legs, writhing in pain. They sat there for they did not know how long. It took Hiruni time to get back to her senses. And as soon as she recovered, she found Janith lying by her said, gasping for breath. She hugged him and looked around. With shivering hands she made him sit on his four and her eyes fell on the destroyed grocery shop that was there in front of her. She ran in and started to look for the oils. It took her a few minutes to shuffle when she found the lavender oil covered by the debris. She ran outside and picked the iron rod from there, came inside and put all of her strength in pulling the debris enough to get the oil. She left the shop and ran out back to Janith, he had fallen on the road, struggling to breathe. She shuddered and cried as she picked him up in her lap. She poured the oil on one of her clothes lying on the ground made him inhale its essence.

The night went by and the sun came up behind the dark roaring clouds. They had moved ahead, leaving the nightmare behind, once again to find the safe zone. They had almost reached the end of the city when Hiruni saw an old woman whinnying in pain at the corner of the destroyed road. She ignored the woman and kept walking. Janith left her hand and ran to the old lady. He reached to her and tried to help her get up. Hiruni walked up to both of them.

“Help yourself,” she said in her bleak tone, “walk away from here before that the catastrophe breaks out again.”

“Again?” asked Hiruni.

“Yes, there was a news on the radio that another cyclone is going to hit the area again,” she said as her voice shuddered more, “those who survived, left to reach the safe zone,” she took a deep breath, “help would not arrive. Go now”

Hiruni held Janith’s hand and pulled him to leave with her.

“Why can’t she come with us?” he spoke, finally, like he used to.

“I can’t walk, son” she struggled to breathe again, “animals would attack you if you don’t go away from here, nature has turned on us,” she took a long pause to gather the courage to speak again, “go now.”

Janith did not want to leave her behind but Hiruni knew that they had to in order to survive. Colombo was still one hundred and fifteen miles ahead; the presumed Safe Zone was there. No one knew if the capital had survived, they just hoped that it did. She did not have anything else on her mind since last night but only a few lines which echoed, ‘there were no friends anymore,’ that ‘she had a dreadful journey ahead’ and ‘she had a son to keep safe.’ She pulled Janith and he moved with a sad heart. They left the old woman behind, she felt nothing for her. There was a huge jungle between Colombo and them. They would have to cross it through the road.

They had come passing through millions of dead beings, a few living dead beings, annihilated villages, man-eater animals, extinguished cities and the one who committed suicide. They were hungry, without the food and water and the shelter was far-far away from them.

-the end

Come and Go

To know that you’re here for a reason

All the sticks and stones and ash in bones

Everything was there for this to come

You were broken at seams and torn by gleams

So that you could be in a perfect symmetry when it comes

Would you have reacted in the most ideal way?

If you were a little less broken

Sure you’d have been a little less insecure, a little more sure

And a little bit less chaotic

Perhaps, confident enough to blow it off its mind

But would you have been just perfect?

No less, no more, no more swinging by the door

Just somewhere sitting in a corner where you’re closer to the floor

And you knew you’d be alone again

So that you could be found by the break of the day

Did you have to spend a thousand nights in the burning sun

Of countless breaking thoughts?

Just to be able enough to fathom this one

Thinking of a hole in the sky

From where all the wrath falls on earth

Or a mountain up high of remorse

So that you could stand at the top of it and be visible to it?

The moments passed like rodents in your skin

Just so that you could be wrecked just enough to be seared enough

To feel enough and match the intensity of the new fire enough?

It’s a lifetime running in circles

Just to come to the same point again and again

But it’s a spiral, you’re going up and up

And you may never know

Just to have this one

It was necessary to let all the things come and go.

Ode to a Poet

What does a Poet’s heart desire?
Is it the beloved’s bosom burning fire?
Or the tender tulip lipped wine of his youth
Does a splendour warm summer sooth
What does a poet’s heart desire?

Is it the mourn of leafless tree’s wind
Or a stream’s gurgle aloft the corner grind
Does it require the strength of beloved’s arms?
Or a seraph’s titillating charms
Is what it wears for a frantic attire.

The world is left in an unchartered asunder
Without a poet’s heart that does wonder
Siphoning the gallows of deepest woes
Weaving the muse on lonely hills tiptoed
And dampening the might of a hundred choirs.

The despairing world may never know
Through the words bleeding to and fro
What does a poet’s heart desire?
A divulged gut-wrenching lore to admire
Of life as tattered or valuable sapphire.

I Do Not

No, I don’t think of you much anyway
But this blood seeping from heart is misled
Burning like gasoline, setting my body on fire
Setting up and setting low in my head
To let them go, the memories those miseries
Oh, I wish I could burn it all down.

No, I do not love you much anyway
But ever since my heart was chocking
Strangled in my fragile ribcage
Lying on the floor I am hoping
Stuck outside the door, I’m stuck in my own kind of hell
Oh, I wish instead of me I could break it down.

You may think my breaths are flickering
Bickering, in my spite it’s different
Misery and those echoes of my knees
Meeting the ground and never coming up
No, I do not love you, I do not think of you
But this damned desire to touch your skin

No, I do not write for you, I write for my own
But this ink is not, it is something more
It is blue of my heart, it is grey of my brain
It is red of my eyes, it is pale of my skin
It is state of my being, it is death of a dream
It is the last time we talked and last time I breathe

No, I do not cry for you, I do not look for Orion.

orion_stars-thinkstock

I wonder when would I get to see you next,
It has been a week, more so, I guess,
Like flowers in the sun await the wind
And cold wind blows by the meadow
And in between all the stillness
The flower withers and wind becomes breeze

Would you become better if I waited on you?
Shall I perish for I am not eternal?
How long this week feels if you knew
Perhaps, you would come rushing back
There have passed a billion stars several times
And the seconds, oh forever frozen

There is a cuckoo on my foyer sitting
Always telling me you’re around the corner
And as I rush, the street thinks I’m a fool
The bicycles mock me, and dash by
And then there at the corner, my heart sinks
And I leave it there, in despair and wait

And then I look down from my window
Oh there go people, gaily back to the arms of their beloved
And I sit, I sit and I wait, in a frozen longing
Oh sweet embrace of your wanting eyes
Cars honk their horns, bees buzz and trees rustle
The only note missing is your sweet voice

The autumn, the spring, the winter and the summer
All feel the same, cheerless and silent
Though it has been just a week, perhaps, I guess
But I’ve lived seasons through it without you
And my work is not good, I have got a few proposals too
And you do not know, I’ve been having nightmares.

Flicker of smoke like a trampled will
Her face, her grace, all over the place
And the tears, the tears and the wears
Sinking like a bolt into the Earth
The wind, the wind up and glint of eyes
Flare like a comet through the chest
Did she know, no I guess no

The wait, the weight of ever late
Like a sailing cloud never coming down
Crosses her heart like a dagger of faith
How she felt her lips, wisps of lost chase
Going right, in the right of her wrong
Digging desperately into her face
Like pins, sow the heap, heap and sow

Mercy, the more she sees the moor of her dreams
Crippling like a broken branch against wind
She’d go down, drown and grow alone
In the blighted superstition of her hope
Striking like a tsunami against her life
She does know, I guess she’d always known
It is soon to be over, over her suffering