Works of RK

The promises of a better tomorrow Holds me back, my darling, today There is always so much more to do But I promise to love you tomorrow. Working late nights and barely sleeping I wake up and find the world already rushing ahead And each day dominoes into another But I promise to love you tomorrow. I was young once And I thought I would have more time But now I am in a bit of a rush But my darling, I promise to love you tomorrow. Just when I thought that I finally had time My therapist forced on me a dog My little sweetheart, my cuddly woodly coochie coo And Oh!, there is you! You, my darling, I promise to love you tomorrow 😊 Photo

"Every flood, every where, leaves memories on the land from which it recedes. The trees that survived would add a wider ring to its memory, and with frost rings, light rings, and false rings, as well as missing and narrow rings, the flood would be just another ring of a memory in a tree. What do WE do?  Where do we store all our love or the lack of it?  How do we record our floods and our droughts and our famines... and with you not around, what do I do?"

Together We might never dissolve fully Into each other But we will flow my love Like rivulets through paths untrodden And we shall make music Like pebbles rolling And water flowing And birds calling There are all kinds of music And such shall be ours.

Come Let us slice into each other With fine surgical precision You slash me here I slash you there And then When the storm is done I will patch you up And you tuck me up You bring the bucket I the mop the blood And together we will cleanse Our ancient hurts Our guilts And our fears  Until we start again And over a cup of coffee You tell me  My dear Just how much you love me And I shall tell you Just how much I love you.

Growing up, I would throw small pebbles across placid water bodies and watch them bounce and skate over the shimmering surface. If I had competition, we would count the bounces and both the winner and loser will nurse a sore shoulder by evening. Neither the lake, nor the pebbles cared, and the universe, like a quantum experiment, was both the observer and the observed. Or maybe we were being played and they were the audience. To all the pebbles and the lakes that survive...thank you for that space... in time.

The circus came to town I could see the posters of acrobats and hippos and giant wheels On shaky ancient auto- rikshaws Driven by incorrigibly happy Poor people. For some years now, I have felt like the joker  Looking at a gallery full of fools Wanting to believe That what they see And live Is not sheer drudgery  But liquid entertainment.  I think Joaquin Phoenix fucked my world view Forever.  And before that, there was the Matrix Or even, Joseph Heller Or maybe it was Gabriel Garcia Marquez  Or even The Bhagwan who declared In his infinite wisdom That the infinity of our souls  And the divinity of our beings Are sullen By the circus  Of life.