Obsession

I read your poems

Over and over again

I visit your blog

Over and over again

But I leave no comments

I limit the traces I leave

Unlike Hansel and Gretal

Who left a trail of breadcrumbs

From what you've written

I create an image of you

Not so much about features and complexion

But

Personality, experiences

But

My assumptions may be wrong

So utterly wrong

For you've never said

You write the truth

And nothing but the truth

Yet

It feels that way

That you write

Not fiction

But your life's story

And I read

Post after post

Not knowing who you are

Sometimes I want to ask

People who have left comments

If they know you

But then I realize that

A reason I love your poems so much

Is because you remain unknown

 My obsession

Is not so much about the person

Behind the poems

But about the

Poems themselves

Which are so simple

So real

Without trying hard to be beautiful

And

That's how I think of you

Someone who is beautiful

Without having to try.

Too late now

I always wanted to stay at home

Be with Athamma

Spend more time with her

She was lonely

Had only us

And none of us seemed to

Find enough time to

Spend with her

I stayed at home

Once a week

Sometimes I didn’t

But I usually did

And we spent time together

But it wasn’t enough

Then it was too late

And she was gone

No matter how much time we have free now

It’s useless

She is gone

I wanted to study abroad

I’m glad I didn’t

I wanted to live away from home

Closer to work

I’m glad I didn’t

I have my own bed room

I wanted to spend more time in it

But I had to sleep in

Athamma’s room

There were days I wanted to be alone

I wanted to be more grown up

Be alone

I wanted to sleep in my own room

I’m glad I didn’t

It's just hot in here

I wipe my forehead again
Wipe away the sweat that has gathered again
You catch me in the act again
Ask if I'm okay... again
My look is meant to say, 'really!?!'
But it may look blank to you
Because even the glaringly obvious
Isn't obvious to you
So even though I have reason to be nervous
And the butterflies in my tummy feeling is no longer nice
And my feet feel like jelly
And the goddamn sweat
I look away as I tell you,
'It's just hot in here.'

Later, when test, discussion, interrogation is over
And the damn sweating has ceased
I think my lungs will stop being stubborn
But how wrong my assumptions are
And then I realize all the mistakes I made
Choosing A instead of B
That instead of this
Him instead of you
You envelope me in comfort, assurance
And suddenly I'm grabbing on to
All warmth I can find
For a blanket of ice is draped on my shoulders
And when I shiver
You ask again, if I'm okay
And again my look is meant to say, 'really!?!'
Because of course
We have both not found obvious
The glaringly obvious
So even though everything hurts
Even though everything is frozen
I look away as I tell you,
'it's just cold in here.'

Sweating glass

She stared at a sweating glass

Hoping to get answers to life's questions

From the water mixed fruit and

Transparency of container

And then she wondered if

The glass was as nervous as she was

And if, as the thoughts in her mind

Made her break out in to a cold sweat

The glass's contents were making it

Just too afraid

But then she smiled

Realizing her stupidity

The glass wasn't worried

It was just a glass

Playing its designated role as container

But her mind

Her thoughts were not awarded that comfort

For the glass maybe emptied soon

But her mind

No, not until she couldn't think anymore

Paper

Dead ants: mass suicide or mass murder?

I came home to find a bowl of jelly

-the jelly was orange but it should have been red-

Playing the role of mass graveyard

Instead of dessert

For in bowl of slowly setting jelly

There were a thousand bodies afloat

Reminding me of a battlefield after shots were fired

And I couldn't help being silly and thinking

Oh but what better way to die

Than drown in an ocean of sugary goodness

Die as jelly filled their tiny lungs?

But then it hit me

How sweet can this dessert be

If it is the poison that finally

Kills you?

Written for you

You tell me not to

Write about you

It's embarrassing

People will know

But darling,

You should know by now

If it's online

It definitely isn't about you

So don't flatter yourself

Don't make assumptions

Words about you

Words for you

Will only find a place in my mind

And heart

Lines

I am

I am the dust you walk on

  The fingerprint you leave

I am the scars you wear

  The wounds that won’t heal

I am the sigh on a tiring day

  The smile at a random moment

I am the page that tears away

  The book with the broken spine

I am everything you love

  Everything you hate

I am me

  And I am you

Gandapaana

And it is the ordinary

Gandapaana

That waves goodbye to us

As we leave this

Too good for the golden roses

Top most point of our country