Silence

Sitting next to the window I sigh

The evening sun goes past me

Solitude my sole companion

We talk of times gone past

And the Utopian life I see myself walk into

The keeper of my secrets...

Silence! You are my dearest guide

We walked quietly down that shaded lane, He and I

Stopping to look at a pretty bird

Reaching out to touch that velvety blossom

Summer breeze ruffling our hair gently

The silent smiles spoke for both us

The sounds around meant nothing

Silence! You are my favourite messenger

We sit amidst jovial laughter, all of us

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind you keep me company still 

A loud mischievous accusation, a louder denial

Some back-slapping and passing of drinks around

The warm hugs to show solidarity 

That ticklish poke in the rib to tell me the teasing isn't over yet

Silence!  Even in a crowd you are my best friend

I lie on my bed a crumpled sorry mess

Stifling my sobs, sometimes, crying out aloud in my pain

The promise my tomorrow made to me is broken

The heart that believed that devious tomorrow is maimed

You console me, tell me, "Never again let this happen to you!

But even if you do, I'll still be around," and stroke my feverish head

Silence! You are my philosopher 

We meet after a long time, He and I

There is so much to say, so much to share

We recount stories we haven't told, uncomfortable silence intervenes

We know we still understand each other, ambiguous silence mushrooms

We revel in momentary togetherness, intrusive silence makes us edgy

Suddenly, there is nothing to say, nothing to share

Silence! You are my worst enemy

Taking off my Mask... Little by Little

It has been really long since I posted a blog. And it makes me uncomfortable to note how lackadaisical I have become about the one thing I enjoy a lot... Writing.

It's not that there is a dearth of ideas. They are there. They assume the most tangible forms in my consciousness. I think of putting them into words. The inclination to attempt foiling the vivid imagery with inadequate expression is overcome by my desire to preserve it in its truest, most original and unevolved form. For I seem to be losing faith in my ability to express myself frankly enough to be understood by those I want to read me.

Honesty is still my number one priority in keeping my relationships with people alive, spirited and to make me feel truly connected. Lately, I seem to be taking the easy way out; escaping answering questions about myself, hoping my friends don't see through my lies, wondering if my animated chatter seems happy enough to all around me, crossing my fingers that the constant nagging voice somewhere inside my head doesn't become loud enough for people around me to hear.

Here I go again. Doing what I didn't want to. Writing betrays my intentions. I am expressing myself, yet again.

Time maybe for me to dig out some of those half-ripe ideas rotting away in that dusty old attic of a mind of mine. Time for me to carefully wipe the patina of self-consciousness off them and revive that feeling that prompted me, even if for a second , to challenge myself to express the abstract, the inanimate and the uncanny feeling of wholesomeness it brought to me for that short while. I am craving for the excitement again.

I am hoping to snuggle back into my comfort zone, and hopefully, without much effort.