Follow up –> .D.O.T.(A poet’s reminiscence)

A stack of pencil, an eraser and a sketchbook are kept side by side on a table in a shady room with dim light. A lamp stood on the table under which a hand is moving clamorously, restless. The hand picks the sketchbook and switches on the lamp. Its been days the hand couldn’t find peace. With the profanity of time it had got used to holding brushes and moving in dancing carousal. It has become his intrinsic property now. Different shades of colour embodied on it is vocalizing the fact ,It has always found the peace with its surreptitious affair with the brushes, However today it is perplexed by its master deep thought..

” This has to be my masterpiece, my soliloquy“, he says as if commanding hand to just bequeath his alma mater and make him a witness of a new history being sublimed in the canvas . He holds the canvas near him and he could see the marks beckoning in light and dark shades. Still unsatisfied he picks up his eraser and rubs frantically, still various pieces of dots were revolting.

The dots .the mistakes as he perceived. He wondered how these mistakes change everything. Mistakes as done in large number, they become a truth…a law…these mistakes become then acceptable.

“At last“, he says, “at last the mistakes are showing a truth in them, may be this is the masterpiece, I am endowed for“

..The dots were making a mark showing a change and they were becoming a part of his drawing…

Pacified with his new found imagery, the hand stopped its clutter. Taking a euphoric stance the hymn began.

Through the silhouette of galleries not shown, through the evanescent bromidic shady corners not known and through the creaky doors of hall of soul, the viviparous lead gives birth to misbegotten ingénue out of dipsomaniac adventure.

The master of hand raises the child out of sheer euphoria in the air. A self complacent smile appears on his face, but still he feels there is something amiss. Again the hand becomes baffled. Constant persiflage with his tool was also not giving much of comfort.

Deep the master goes, in his own world. In the canvas was lying a lady with inane sadness on her face. The phlegmatic eyes were arousing deep suspicion of her inability to pacify her begetter.

Suddenly the master jumps as if found a whole new territory. As if putting his flag to mark the territory as his own, he reaches for the sketch. On the forehead of her he baptizes the opus with a DOT.

Such is the seduction of magnanimity of the moment and such is the lewdness of the euphoria, precipitating all your moments’ weakness it takes you on a ride with neurons bashing each cell to mock on its own glibness. He brings the sketch near him and says

“SPEAK!!!”.

A sudden thunder fills the laden silence. It could not be heard yet it was clear for him. The whiteness of the sketch through the Grey dots started breaking. Lady started coming alive with drapes of different colours separating through the white.

Colours are babies of white. It’s been always so, the scions after birth surrender there own sire. White looses its own identity and disintegrates. It’s so easy for the shades to come out and even though high precision is used there is always a drop difference to get the pure white back.

The drapes surrounding the lady start unfolding and circumscribing the master. Uproar was in motion with each drape, each shade warbling in vie. The master felt first time how it is to be like weightless. His magnum opus was itself honouring him in the convivial. This tasted like joy. It tasted like anodyne.

Finally an anodyne…

Next morning in the neighbourhood a garrulous television was shouting”…Yesterday the great painter died because of cardiac arrest. However the body was found in a mangled state, police is baffled with unusual appearance of the detritus body. The body was found in his room with torso on the table and was covered with different sheets of cloth except the chest where a sketch of lady was kept. On removing the sketch something in white was discovered. A large white DOT…”

and phoenix…

A call in the night living

Standing hands make it moving

Life… A swollen river

Mystic blue, cutting to self believing

It’s not dead, it’s not living either

Spark that shines spin and wither

Somewhere it belong, somewhere in oblivion

They say it cranes of sand in the deep ocean

I tread my way saying the name

It pulls me over and then plays the game

I trade it with all my wishes

The sleepy eyes and thousand kisses

Sweet sorrow, the ghosts of tomorrow

Crossing lies and wisp of harrow

Chasing ways, facetious you

 Hapless eyes doesn’t construe

Regurgitated journey of fallacy began

The phoenix of shadows crashes and burns

to rise again….

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The pic above is courtesy: Hidyn Gems

Voices…

“Don’t go too far; don’t go so that I can’t see you”

“Will you remember this day?”

“How long do I have to remember it?” came the reply

He said, “try to remember it always, remember that you and I made this journey that we went together to a place where there was nowhere left to go“

—adapted “Namesake”

deja-vu…

The mist was covering his eyes. He was trying to focus his eyes behind his specs so that he can see in the fog. A sense of chillness can be felt around. He cleans his specs again and again due to the moist forming by heavy breathing because of treading the pathway to nearest bus stop. He looks over the signs of any life at this late hour. Still the scurrilous fog was not permitting anyone to enter. He pushes both hands in his jacket to take some warmth from the inside of his body. It does helps a bit but the darkness pretending to be his friend was weakening him. Suddenly a hand comes and pulls him out from the mystic river. His heart suddenly bumps and exhales silent scream. The anonymity of moment takes him aback.

He gasps questioning “who are you?”

Disillusioning him and the anonymity, headlights of far bus makes everything near him shine with vociferous intensity speaking a far distant story. His eyes stretches, his lips twisted. He sees a feminine beauty, white cloth savoring her skin. In this weather also he can see the minuscule drops of perspiration on her neck giving a feel as she just came out of shower and going to dry, hair fidgeting with and flirting with those…”those eyes” a darken land it felt prohibiting the trespassers. It appeared many have tried to indulge in the deed to elude the shades of those soporific eyes.

However something was missing, something disturbing, this hand of angel… did it came to save him? A smirk on her dry lips flows, perhaps…perhaps…something is unsaid…something she wishes to say. He comes near her evading all fears but what is this, why she is trying to keep a distance? He starts pacing towards her and she eluding…but why?

Now the question in his mind changes from why she caught him …pulled him…to why she is getting away.

Unknown streets he crosses and she running with the same intensity…they take many corners sometimes it felt he lost her…but then again the spark of some light from distant gives him ‘her’ location. Suddenly she slows down on a dead end .Overjoyed he increases his pace .but as soon he was going to hold her hand she takes a flight in air…In a moment of reaction he jumps…and drops on the earth with clutched hand…perplexed. He feels his hand moist…moist with the drops of her perspiration…he gets up rubbing his thumb and fingers feeling the moistness of her in his hand.

Somewhere near… the light again beams as if sounding premorse…

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P.S: This is not a story. Characters here are emotions personified…

3 Pegs Whiskey

Today reading the mails, one of them reminded me of DC first shot at drinks. Well that was DC’s first and last time DC had rendezvous with the gold beauty..

To celebrate New Year with DC one of his close friends came from Bangalore to give him a visit. Also that was one of the most excruciating times he was going through. That was a perfect eve to execute the perfect deed.

Juggler: Anks~the ‘wicked’ ‘innocent’ ‘insane’

And the ball: Dreamcatcher

And the ramblings begin……

Anks: why the hell you are like this..let go ..n let yourself live

DC: I try…I am trying

Anks: Lets call shots and get over with it..This might help.

And emerged playing hide and seek with its seal.. “the bottle”.. calling defiance. Its always a big step for first timer..to drink or not to is the question..but who cares..already broken himself..he grabs it ..Gulp gulp…1st sip.WTF what is this shit…and people dances on the music of this!! aarggghh can’t take it can’t have it..

Anks:What is this are you drinking or pissing..You wont change..take it neat then you will know what it is..

GULP! GULP! And hmmm…I can hear something…and the great dance show begins..Its really fascinating if one can take account of how the alcohol take you through..starts with yuck and ends with woooshh!! like you become so lighter than air…each sip crusading through the veins..opening all the bottle necks..The mind swaying across valleys and bumps..and a ride to void..the pleasure of zeroth point..

Anks: Now you are getting better…So tell forgotten or not!

DC: Damn! Where m I ..hicchoook!! twing twang! ting! …I am chandler bing! Gosh! what I am saying doesn’t make sense…Bro I know what I am saying is stupid..crap But seriously I am not drunk…he he…Hichoook!!

One serious statutory warning..never keep your mobile near when you are drunk and all senti..this magnanimous tool is most treachorous of all..Highly dangerous when you have got it just now recharged..!

DC: awwww! So lonely so alone…feel like giving some one a call…Anks whaddya say

Anks: zzzzzzz!!

Here is the treason..the treason master sleeping..now who will hold the ball already bumping by..Here he tooks the weapon in his arms..and start dialing the number..

DC: Whom to call?? ahh Priya(name changed)..my childhood friend

First try…tring…tring..no pick..second try ..tring tring…cut! ..third…”the number you are trying to reach is currently unreachable” (mind it its 2:00 in the night)

I hate this mind..more than heart..specially at the times when you are not yourself… it speaks..It speaks with such loud intesity when you are drunk that all sensibilities defies you

DC: Can’t call what to do..SMS

Priya …I am trying to tring tring you..but you are so far(Actually meant to say I am trying to call you but your cell is unreachable)

Alcohol..life of more than half of people around the globe..broken homes.broken hearts savior.hate it loath it…but it does something to you..and If you know how to rhyme..at times it brings out best of poetry inside you and the worst..

DC:I wanna talk I wanna talk..let me call randomly..beep beep bop bop…and again tring tring…

DC: Hullllooooo

A person half in sleep: Who is this

DC: Tell me one thing missshhter

Person: yeaahhhhaa

DC: Aasman se zameen tak ..Aasman se zameen tak..Kya hai( From sky to earth …from sky to earth..what is there!!)

Person: Who is this a******

DC: Hawa hai hai hai!!! ….(There is air..there is air !!

Person:cut!

DC: I wanna talk I wanna talk…beep beep bop bop..! tring tring!

Gal with real sexy voice: hiiii!! X-(

DC: Dil mein chubhi sui..Dil mein chubhi sui( Heart is pricked by needle )

Gal: what happened ..

DC: Awaaz aayi ui uiiii ( And the sound came uiiiiii!)

Gal: Jerk!(cut!)

Hmm Nobody to listen and nowhere to go!! I can be with my best friend ..a pen and paper..

Infinite Ramblings

Say something to me

The silence will melt with voice

The stillness is too prolonged

And noises waiting for rejoice

Wet earth, wet wood and the quag I step in

Behind the soul a rusty window

The conspiracy bequeath in..

Don’t say anything to me

The flicker of candle

‘neath my heart sways

The drips of mantle

Giving it complicated ways

Walk on circular contour

Is it start or end?

Often on mirage of oceans

The shore pretends..

Do Say to me

‘Coz on this boulevard

the veracity of flights

Gazes on the variegated twilight..

With a smile

Beaming brighter….brighter than Sunlight…

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The pic above is courtesy: Hidyn Gems

Asked him love …He took my hand,joined the stars in sky to make a heart

Asked him wish … He unfolded his hand and a butterfly flew

Asked him desire …He spread his palms and sands dripped

Asked him dream … He Kissed the air and it blew ……

SONG

Woke up this morning, sun was bluffing again

and the lying shadows playing a game

The requiem of my virtue,says they need you

Dreamcatcher ,make my dreams come true…

Feels like dying, illusions of trying

Its tragic, could be black magic

duping me so far way

hold me,catch me into this blue

Dreamcatcher ,make my dreams come true…

Dusk makes fun, dawn holds me near

Glances of moon breaking with fear

Ecstasy of sorrow causing heart sear

Please put my bubbles in a balloon

Dreamcatcher ,make my dreams come true…

Swimming on surface of sky

I kiss my soul often

It shakes with a pry

but Satan doesn’t soften

Eyes hugging each other in rue

Dreamcatcher ,make my dreams come true…

Somewhere sometime snatch my dreams that I drew

With whistles of your lips , blew them so they flew

One day A dream will fall in a swirl

Caught in oyster and become a pearl

A sleep of eternity , my dream of cure

Dreamcatcher ,made my dream come true…