Question, one question

Tell me

Is it wrong to want to touch you?

You know I smile whenever I think of you

I guess it's crappy

Yah it is crappy

But I am still smiling, ear to ear

Remember that goey song

That one that you said is our song

With a stupid catchy pop tune

That you failed to even hum along to

It's playing right now,

It's actually playing right now

Quaint

Can someone feel quaint?

That's how you make me feel

The look you look at me with

I can't stop this babbling

It all started with a simple question

A single simple question

Like those trick ones you shoot out

Ambushing me when my autopilot is off

You have always been crazy

Bonkers, off the chain

Okay that's a bit harsh but its true

You made me seem normal, sane

Yes, it's true

Yes its so true

So very true

Damn it! I have to go

And that question is still hanging

I wonder if I will ever get an answer!

This was actually written by Abid, very silent friend over there, but since he doesn't seem to want to pitch in just yet...

And i noticed a couple of Visitors from TVFL (my only visitors actually, i think) "WELCOME!!" Hope its not a total drag... :-)

The City

The city, I heard, was a grand place, that is why I came here, to see if all I heard was true, to see the wonders I had heard of; the small suns in people’s homes, the small coiled black snakes that cooked without wood or fire…

But nobody had told me of this, of these tall huts that kept rising and rising, of these wide black paths that led you nowhere but took you in circles. Nobody told me of the suffering I would see here.

I remember my first day here. I was down on one of those black paths-roads they call them-wandering and admiring. I got lost hopelessly lost. Every other street looked the same, the same old rows of doors, windows, same merciless orderliness.

I remember the panic that rose in me as the day turned into night, as the natural light was replaced by the artificial light. I didn’t know the language, the white man’s tongue that every one seems to use here. If I tried to speak my own, I was shunned, treated like a leper.

I still do not know how I got back to this place I am forced to call home, maybe God had his Angels watching over me. All I know is that though I live here, in the deepest part of my heart, my soul, I still yearn for the open Savannah.

2002

Someone’s written a message on the board, a welcoming message to us-the outsiders who are now forced to be one with them, suppose it ought to make me feel better, it does not by a long shot. I think that may be I’m the only one who feels this way, but when I look around, I see no happiness. The smiles I see are bitter, some brave, most resigned. But even those are few. Most of the people look glum, some have resigned themselves to sleep, hoping it will be better them the stark reality.

But its hard to sleep in a strange place, a place hat was once familiar in another forgotten time.

Familiar strangeness. My poetry teacher would call it…

I don’t know, I have forgotten. Things I learnt in this very place are hidden from me, leaving me empty, empty…an emptiness that consumes me… and emptiness that will be filled sometime when the strange becomes familiar and the familiar strange.

A new journey has begun; am grateful for my companions

Wrote this in 2003, first day in a new class
oi, anyone reading this stuff?

I love the night, mostly because of the darkness. I like the dark, and at night it is as dark as it can get, with only the faint twinkle of the distant stars for light on a moonless night... 

But recently my nights have been different. Its not about the dark, its about the emptiness, the loneliness I've suddenly discovered, loneliness I never even knew existed... this night is no different. 

I am drowning in the silence. Silence only broken by the slap of waves on against my boat. It is cold thanks to the breeze filling the sails... I'm lonely, really lonely. No one ever ventures this far out to sea, no one, not even the most desperate of fishermen. all I can see for miles around is water. 

The sky looks like a dark cloth with pearls sewed onto it, pearls constantly winking at each other like friends who share a secret. The moon looks strangely out of place in that black eternity. As if to make up for this, it has lent the water a silvery sheen, I am sailing on a sea of silver... but when I look down, all I see is darkness. There is nothing of the silver there, nothing. Its like it has just been swallowed up in the water's mysterious' depths. 

 Once in a while I can see a light winking on the horizon. it reminds me that there are others out there, others like me, and yet not, awakens that yearning in the deepest darkest reaches of my heart, a yearning for a kindred soul, someone to keep me company in these now strangely long hours of the darkness that once held peace for me. 

Once. Now all they promise is a restlessness, and a mind forever drifting... I need someone, someone to tie me down, someone to draw me back to land, an anchor to fill this emptiness, the loneliness that consumes me. someone who'll understand me, take me for who I am without trying to change me... 

 ... Maybe they'll heal me...

This is a combo of about three different pieces i wrote between 2000 and 2002, put them together in 2004. Enjoy, couldn't think of a better way to start. (Or maybe i am just too lazy to look :-))