Works of RK

As the sleeper class coach hurtled on iron rails, I found myself gazing out of the window, the wind catching what remains on my balding head. It was the Carriage's willingness to be lead by the engine that surprised me. It kept pace and hurried behind the big boss, trusting that HE will lead the way. The landscapes changed from urban grime to barren wasteland to paddy fields awaiting harvest. Soon, the dusk fell upon us, and there was more light inside than outside. By the time I could make sense of the journey, sleep had invaded me. I woke up at 4.00 in the morning and found a cab home. The train was neither sad not happy that I was no longer a traveler. It's a journey it has to make, and that's about all it ever needed to know. As the car entered my residence , I could hear a Siren honk somewhere in the distance.

It's not that you don't love me. You love me in fragments In small bits, from little corners In small moments in time When out of time Some wanton memory Reminds you of me. It is then that you love me. And I love you with my being. All my broken parts stringed together Into a complex whole. I love you to the extent of my unbeing Until there is no more of me in me It's only you. Also appeared in Muse India

How far can I swim away from you For someday's I catch a lonely wind And float along aimless adrift Into a sea that I once called home. I tire out and find myself longing for you And just when I believe that I am far away from you I find myself washed ashore Into your arms Forever awaiting Never letting go.

I miss you, For infinity that lies in your eyes For the midnight that dwelves Between your manicured brows. For life and all its joys That you carry in your wake For happiness, and joy And chuckle and the silly fights For longing, and pain that is to come I miss you For the shades you lend to my shadows For being the reason for me to walk Into my otherwise empty tomorrow's. This little life And all that there is in there And not there.

It is not darkness But the absence of light Not pain But absence of pleasure. There are days that are dreary Days that are sad And I find myself looking up at the sky And begging for the Sun To just fucking shine. The heart that throbbed within me once Like cannon balls thudding around Now lies silent and forlorn, even, As a battle rages deep within. What the heart feels A poet can string to words Through slow mellow rhymes Silent in longing and love. But the Shakespearean silence of my soul I can never pen, Into words you will fully understand. There is no method my love, To my madness My madness is you. It is not darkness that surrounds me It’s the absence of your light, This life’s only true delight

Long train journeys make me sad. The gentle lyre that plays some sad Chinese melody in the background of our everyday lives, suddenly comes afore. The notes from their pathos drown me. As in a trance, I find myself staring at concrete sleepers and iron tracks, my eyes brimming with ancient tears. I have often wondered why this happens. Maybe because long train journeys remind me of my childhood. Reminds me of a life full of beautiful loving people. Some have traveled to the edges of these railroads and faded out of sight, some have merged with these tracks and what remains of them are the sounds from these clanging wheels of an ageing memory and iron dust. This rattling reminds me of a journey that all of us have to undertake. This long untiring unending relentless journey on iron wheels, hooting, halting, changing lanes, always running. I bid goodbyes to those who have arrived. As I hurtle towards my own destination, I take a quick look at those who i travel with. When my time comes, ...

I have felt your heart beat At my finger tips I have felt the heightened fluttering In your being From my being. I carry within me forever the warmth From that near embrace The moonlight that lends a sparkle To the glitter in your lashes Reminds me of that night When I first realized That the heart that beats near mine Is just as mine Only closer.