The Roaring Waves Of Love's Embrace

If you want to listen to the music that plays within my soul, you have to come close, be in the quiet, close your eyes and focus - or you would miss a few notes. If you find it so soothing to be true, I dare you put me into the hottest of pans and fry me up alive until I give up my ghost, pour a few bottles of acid and water over me so I burn down faster but into a lowly sludge of slimy ash. As you see my flesh and bones shudder in the heat with excruciating pain, do these three things - the last wishes of a dying man - one, do not panic; two, bite your teeth and be cold for a while; three, come closer still and stare. To add to the disturbing chill, you would notice even the last few gasping breaths of mine speaking volumes of love.

You might, with mock derision, ask me - what do you know of love if you have never been into an affair? How do you know what it feels like to be immersed in the roaring waves of love's embrace? You are a fucking virgin, you haven't even touched a girl ever in a sensuous way - what kind of noisy rant do you moan of love? Love certainly is not simple and I don't understand much of its complexities - who does anyway! - but I know one thing very clear. It was only when I walked into the darkest of places, I found love; and ever since I have been paralyzed by its symphony. It was in melancholy, I discovered my melody; and I precisely know where to find beauty - for it lies hidden inside the scars and the unhealed wounds.

It is true that we cannot limit love to culture and its many rituals, because it is beyond human constructs of family and society. There is nothing apart from love that can transcend every divisive force that tries to wreck this world. I always tell the kids I meet at the orphan homes that if they wanted to become superman, they should love. Because when love sets in, it would make a superhero out of the simple you. For - at the touch of love, one not just becomes a poet; he also becomes a mad man, a man truly out of his fucking mind; and history has always testified to the fact that only madmen have insofar loved in truth. You need to be really mad to not shy away from getting beaten up for the sake of the oppressed; to pump your blood out frequently to help save lives despite being an epileptic; to love others more than you love yourself even though you clearly know 'love thy neighbour more than thou love thyself' is recipe for self-destruction. What is life, but to continuously break yourself down completely and then build again - until the day you become the best edifice, a wonder the entire world would rave about.

The Comforting Lap Of Flower Petals

You hypnotize me, sprinkling honey into the soft evening winds so when they graze against my skin - my soul loses its gravity and spins eternally into the black hole of your sweet vices. You sting me like a scorpion and peel my heart open like how they remove the fibrous coconut coir - to show me what's hidden inside. All that I am left with is a pair of lungs full of breath holding poetry - with all the schematic rhyming and the music. I could hear the distant sound of the clarinets and the lyres growing stronger at the passing of every second, and it befuddles me to do something crazy. So I try to flap - first slowly and then fast - only to discover to my amusement that I'm one of those mutant humans who had wings. You wouldn't believe if I told you that I did fly - flew so high - like a kite, without knowing if it was east or west, or north or south. In simple words, you put me up there in the high skies, totally lost.

You intoxicate me, the smell of your lips is far more stronger than the best fragrance of all the exotic flowers found on earth. I want to know how you managed to plant a tempest inside my heart because it demolishes me from within. The very gaze of yours disintegrates me like how dandelions become dust, it belittles the wild me into a lit wax candle that melts. You - with ease - spin a piece of dry hay into rainbow and shatter a hard stone into slimy clay, but how? I'm trying hard but your image doesn't disappear at all even if I opened my eyes - I'm confused if this is some form of lucid dream. There wouldn't be any worry if only I were a bee that sleeps on the comforting lap of flower petals. If only.

The Muddy Pot

Trapped in your eyelashes,

I tried so hard to wake up;

But your yawns, they pull me down!

Into the muddy pot of delirium and euphoria

Where I lay drugged

On the juicy floors of your feelings.

What are you?

Are you the red flower that kills my jungle?

Or the hail storm that breaks my nest?

So I find no place to rest;

Tell me, I cry!

I want to know

The name of all the tricks you pull on me!

It should be love, my heart is sure

While my mind in panic shouts - run!

Run so hard away!

I convulse instead and collapse;

Go into spasms, shudder and jerk

Fall finally dead, but in the arms of love

Only to resurrect again

And see my light!

Hey Carrot!

Ante-Script: Hey carrot! This one's for you!! :)

The first time I saw you, I felt the weight of Thor's heaviest hammer-bang right on my head. Ouuchh I shouted in pain and closed my eyes, touched my head slowly, thought my skull broke asunder into pieces, but it was all intact - thankfully nothing happened. But when I opened my eyes, the world had become beautiful. The feeling was indescribable. For once, I'm not joking. I could see colors everywhere in my otherwise bland two-dimensional life.

I like the way you sweetly push me outside the door, and quietly blush after I'm gone. You very well know that I'm going to come back for you, don't you? I could clearly see it in your eyes - how you are intrigued by all the weirdness in my nature and your longing to call me - mine. The way your eyes move between my eyes and my lips gives away everything you have been trying to hide. I can understand, but you have to please stop doing this - because I'm the type who goes for the soul first and later when the time is ripe, for the other things.

Promise you, we would kill each other with deep kisses - both rugged and smooth, fast and slow, and hard and soft; and I'm just going to eat you whole whenever you are hungry. Trust me, this would continue forever. Every time we get a chance, we are going to crush each other with the most romantic of hugs - even if our grand children would make fun of us. Note, kisses are allowed in public even in our wrinkled age, only if you are okay with not disturbing the dentures. Ah, few fairies are now hellbent on pulling my eyelids down to close, so I stop writing stuff here and continue planning the rest of the things within the boundaries of my dreams. So good night I say, and go to sleep.

Until I become a cartoon, and then come and see you in the city of Zootopia - love you!

Burnt Down!

One gaze and you burn me down. You swim into my heart like those hungry crocodiles that are adept with their moves to attack all the beautiful zebras that try to cross the river. I can sense you moving through my nerves and the very thought of it intoxicates me - leaving my eyes red and head numb. I see smoke forming weird shapes everywhere, and everything appears blurred except your countenance that turns from lovelier to the loveliest. I collapse every time you hold me tight and whisper those few words into my ears. The best defences of my heart fail terribly and I topple into dust like those twin towers.

It took some time, but now I know that I'm under siege; you have placed your armies round about - so it is impossible for me to even think of planning an escape. Quite clearly - I am going to get killed as love would swallow me up completely like a deadly python. There is no option left for me, but to cooperate and get thoroughly digested inside cupid's guts and metamorphose into someone crazy and special - only for you. If I ever think of resisting love, I know I would be consumed by the unbearable heat of brimstone, and see my instant hell.

The time of drizzles has set in, monsoon is on. The climate has changed - I could now clearly hear the sound of kisses, and those cute faces you keep making every time you blush or turn playfully angry - they brighten my soul like how supernovas bring merriment to the skies. You personify all the desires I have never been open about; you are all the love songs I have ever written. Keep watch, see the clouds turn black, smell the earth, don't lose a moment, wait for me - because the way I would meet and storm into your life is going to be epic; trust me, our grandsons and granddaughters are going to talk about it with all the pride even after we are long gone.

Hearty Avalanche

Mesmerized in your thoughts, I stumble at the elegance that overflows from the gleam that beautify your face. I see no flaw in you, there is no shade of dubiousness either. You strike me hard like how the warm rays of the Sun dry up the twigs, triggering a deadly forest fire. There isn't enough magic left in the grasp of my vocabulary or I could have easily expressed all the visuals that keep forming in my head about you. If ever you could take a glimpse into my mind, I am quite sure you would be awestruck at the imagery I have quietly woven inside me with much care. There is a wonderland that lays wait for your occupation, a paradise where all of your simple pleasures and other loveliest fancies would see the light of day.

My eyes are filled with you, I am drunk with the innocence in your smile. The way you twitch your lips when you passionately talk about all the things you like - has the same effect as that of bullets fired from a shot gun pointed right at a frozen mountain. The avalanche that comes down after, kills me a million times over. You are all the woman I had dreamt of all these years. You would blush if I told you that you are that spotted deer with a pair of chubby cheeks; the more I look at you, the more it drips honey from every sweetest comb hidden in the chambers of my heart.

I'm all set to infest your life with happiness and the best of laughter - only that you have to manage to find your way to my heart. Trust me, there is going to be surprises all your life - you have absolutely no clue about the thousands of tricks that I sincerely am capable of pulling to bring out merriment right from within your soul. As we hold hands and look deeply into each other's eyes sitting by the pond with our legs dipped in the chillness of the waters, you would clearly hear the lubs and dubs of my heart whispering to you that our eternal togetherness would - hold no threat of boredom, entertain no time to weep or be sad and negate all disappointments - but assuredly promise you a lot of madness, ridiculously overflowing humour, much teasing, wide-eyedness, awes, chills and tickles, kisses, snuggles, warm hugs and cuddles.

Found!

I want my eyes to close, it just cannot be open all the time. I want to jump into the fire, quench it like how cockroaches are killed with the press of a thick thumb, and belittle the fiery flames into a small heap of powdery ash and extinguished smoke. The gruesome death that is destined to kill me in the far future has already robbed me of my sweet life. Few nightmares have slipped through the rocks into the deadly bay, never to resurrect again but leading to a disturbing dull. The music is fled, taking along my shadows too with its eerily soothing ending notes.

How I breathe now, I do not know. I went in search of me to nowhere, but within my own self - circling around and banging my head to the thick walls of my conscience. It was pure horror and insanely frightful abyss. I was gliding into the dark and the gloom only intensified in its abject blackness as I skated into the depths of my soul. What are we, but mere men and women seeking deliverance and waiting for our redemption day.

It wasn't long before I realised that my sketches have been breathed into new life by a power that is incomprehensibly supreme. Those were the very images I drew of the monster that sat right in front of me in the guise of a sheep. I knew from the beginning that it was a monster, but I made a mistake - a mistake too grave that I even had the verve to adorn the monster with those artistic beauty touches in my pages that it almost started looking like an angel. I have to admit that it is after me now, haunting me to sleepless nights with the same questions and the same lies. So I started running, ran too fast - away from all the arrows from its armoury. Fortunately in the process I bumped into myself and finally found me. Sitting by the river that flew from my heart - allowing my limbs to be caressed by its chills, I kept splashing water all over me. Then I turned to look at me and when we saw each other, we smiled.