Works of RK

A year of silences were dispelled over a couple of words on Chat.  I have no clue what I have missed out, I do not know of how much trouble, or how much love I missed out in these 365 days. All I know is that I suddenly have an open line again. Memories of the din and buzzle of Hyderabad haunt me again. All the places, all those movies, and the nights our dining together, all these little things, I miss them again. Thank you for some Springtime bloom amidst Autumn gloom. Rajesh

All is well until I hold you in my hands. Even as time stands still with baited breaths waiting for those postcard moment of life to be delivered, my own thoughts are far from you. The fear of what a hug would do to you keeps me from hugging you. The fear of how you would react to a touch, a feel a kiss keeps me from touching you feeling you kissing you. The times that I have lived have been longer than those of others, the thoughts that shape me are as old as myself, the fears that haunt me today; have walked with through all my lonely trecks. It suddenly seems that we two, we are at two disparate ends of an otherwise not so interesting life, I roll back my longings, pack my bags of desire... and walk on. With me walks an alluring sense of disconnect. Rajesh

No, I wont ever be away from you. Bound to you like the other end of a Compass, I forever remain connected to you. Where ever I go, you will still find me drawing circles, circles of life around you.

My life is a brilliant orchestra.  I do not know the players, I will never see the composer nor the conductor; I do not know when the drums will sound, or the violins play or when the trumpet would shout loud. All I know is that there is magic in the wild cacophony of my life. I like some compositions, I hate some. It might not be a Bethoven or a Bach...it still sounds like a good symphony to me. And amidst these myriad tunes, you are my favorite sound. Rajesh

India Burning As I fight rational to make sense of my today and stumble forth into a future I do not know of, I look behind and hear the holler of a million innocent lives. When you carved my nation's soul as if it were caviar on your cedar and rosewood dining tables, the wounds from that night bleeds still. You doctored my lessons, taught me an alternate history, made yourself heros and saviors of a race that could care less for you. When I grew up, I searched the google and learnt about the murder on your souls. You taught me about Hitler but kept your own names away from me, you taught me about the freedom struggle but kept secret your absolute craving and hunger for the power over a billion poor away from me. When I grew up, I googled and learnt about the dead the buried the displaced and the lost. When I have children, I will not sing songs of gods to them, I will sing songs of your murder and your lust, when I have grand children, I will burn MP6s and Blue Ray Discs with stor...

Every time we were together, holding hands firing hearts; I have felt the moments light up, electrify. As my fingers criss crossed and drew wild patterns on your waxed skin,  as our bodies intertwined in serpentine loops, as your perfume mingled with my cologne, I had felt the bush fires burn, rage, consume. The fires from my yesteryears fuel the memories of my tomorrows. I never really had enough of you, I am yet to turn cinders. Burn me for all time, the phoenix awaits its ashes. Rajesh

As I added years on to my living, my idea of myself grew less hazy. I still do not know more than maybe 5% about I, but then, the 5% that I know is quite interesting. I wait for my story about myself to unfold... as I grow older.  One thing I have realized about myself is the way I sometime allow a stray sentence to get hooked on to my foundations and how I allow some thoughts to govern my actions strongly... for a very long time, probably forever. One such line is : This too shall pass Whenever I have been too sad or too distressed, I fall back   on to this line and feel better instantly. Some days are major disasters, they begin with a strange feeling of loneliness and I finally end up thinking about you. Some time, when I feel too much in love with you, I would end up writing on a piece of paper... this too shall pass, and I survive another day. When ever I have found myself yearning and longing and waiting for someone to be by my side, or to catch a glimpse of someone I l...