Wednesday, 20 December 2006


I thought I was alone,


I was wrong.

Abandoned, yes, but not alone.

Evil is lurking.

Closer than I had ever imagined.

It stares at me,






And I play along.

I beg for its mercy,

Though I’m the one that has been wronged.

The evil laughs at me,

And does not forgive.

I am betrayed.

The knife tastes sweet,

Buried deep in my back.

Positioned carefully,

So that I can’t reach at it.

Here is one wound I cannot heal.

My closest stone is no longer mine.

Abandonment beckons me.

Strange faces offer to help me,

But I decline.

How ironic!

I would only have accepted

If the evil would have offered.

Silence is our companion,

Eyes upon us like a watchful mother.

Evil is my friend now.

And he loves me,

Like a brother;

Like a vulture loves a carcass.

I realize now I was right

The first time.

Even with the evil beside me,

I am alone.

Sunday, 19 November 2006


I breathe in

But the air escapes

Through the holes in my soul.

I’m gasping,

Struggling to live,

And then you save me.

I breathe you in,

But you are still outside me

Laughing, mocking,

Loving, hating,

I breathe in deeply,

Air suffocates me now.

Friday, 17 November 2006

The Wine Glass

I stare at the wine glass,


The wine is rare,

I have never seen anything like it.

I hold it up against the light,

I can see through it

Yet it is solid

And I see nothing else

It pulls me into itself

I touch the glass

Uncertain, unsure

I lift it off the table,


Afraid of snapping the stem,

Afraid of mixing blood-red wine

With wine-red blood.

The glass is now in my hand

I lift it towards me

I’ve seen others do this before,

Never done it myself

Thought about it, yes,

But never imagined it would happen

The glass is an inch from my face

I swirl the wine,


The aroma overpowers me

I close my eyes and sniff again

And this time it enters my head

Like it has a vengeance to fulfil

I’m a little heady already

I raise the glass to my lips now,

Anticipating the experience

Wondering, if what I thought

Is indeed how it will taste

I am pleasantly surprised.

I thought as it swirled around in my mouth

That I wouldn’t like it

Thought it might be too bitter

Not something for my palate

I thought I had sensed it all,

Thought I had seen

How it intoxicates a one

And again, I am surprised

As the taste kicks in

It is full bodied

A hint of flavour that eludes,

Yet stares you in the face

Demanding that you tell what it is

That you think you taste.

The flavour hesitates,

Holding back until the last moment

To really show you what it is like

I swallow,

Thinking it is over,

It can’t possibly get any better,

And then it hits me.

I blink in surprise,

The after-taste overpowering me

This is like nothing I had ever anticipated

I want to drink in more,

I want to keep this feeling going,

But the glass is shaking in my hand.

Unsteady, unsure if I can stay on my feet,

I slide back to the table,

Wanting to put it down.

As the glass reaches the table,

My hand shakes violently,

I’m afraid I will spill it all,

Afraid I will lose that flavour

To a stain that will never come off

Slowly, carefully,

The glass inches toward the table.

Delicately, it places itself on the surface

Dancing in the light.

Sunshine bounces of the deep red

Making it seem alive, afire

Almost mocking me,

Daring me to come closer.

Now it is the glass

That’s looking at me,

Sizing me up

Seeing what I almost mismanaged

I am convinced

I am not worthy

The glass is changing

I do not understand

The glass grows

But the wine remains the same

Filling less and less of the glass

Every time I look at it

But still, it seems to overflow.

I stare at the wine glass,


Wednesday, 1 November 2006


I stand on a cliff,

I’m ready to plunge,

Though the canyon below

Seems to fade into the dark

I’m unafraid,

Yet terrified

I don’t know if I will reach

The bottom,

Or if I vanish into the nothingness

It almost calls to me

Asking if I will be tempted

So what if the pointed tail

Bothers you,

Ignore it,

There’s so much more to see

I’m on that cliff again

This time I don’t know what happens next

I stand there and wait for a sign,

But the jury seems to be out on my parade

I wonder

Will they ever come back in?

Can the magic hold back?

Will it ever be like this again?

Will the sky still be blue,

The sun yellow?

Can I go back to when

I could look straight at it

And not be burned?

Can I deal with the fact

That sweet might never be sweet?

That breathing might not seem like a privilege

But a sentence,

LIFE… hard labour… the third degree…

So many questions…

So many explanations still to come,

So many cliffs still to climb

So many ledges still to jump off

With nothing more than a blind hope

That my feet will land on clouds.

I’m on a new cliff today,

I’ve seen my share,

Jumped a few too…

Today I’m afraid,

Terrified, petrified,

I look down, and fear escapes me

The cliff that I stand on

Is disappearing


Crumbling under the weight

I have put on it

Yet I stand there, unafraid.

If not here, then nowhere.

This is my cliff.

Take it away, and you take away my life.

Wednesday, 27 September 2006


Part Two

I’ve been standing in motion
I’ve started to run
But the wall jus fades away into the darkness
And I’m left chasin empty air
I’m sick of this runnin
I’m sick of the chase
I’m sick of the walls screamin
To keep me in my place
I don’t want no more of this runnin
I’m jus gonna sit right here
To see wat I can do
Wen I don’t really try that hard
And life now seems so simple
I jus take it as it comes
I don’t need to run anymore

I’ve been standin in motion
I see the door now
More clearly than ever before
Even though I no longer want it
It comes closer to me
There’s nothing I can do
Its almost upon me now
All I gotta do is
Get up and walk right thru
And I turn around to see
Those fools still tryin to run
Competin for the stupid badge,
The badge I’ve already won.

Wednesday, 20 September 2006


Part One

I’ve been standing in motion

I try to walk but

The door only gets further away

I’m tired of walkin now

I jus wanna sit down and rest

But my feet keep movin

And the walls scream at me

Not to stop till I reach the end

Tell me how do I get there

When life jus goes on and on

And every time u think u got something

Something new comes up

And u gotta get back in the chase

The hunt for that elusive badge

To pin on your chest for the world to see

Wat a brave and wonderful boy you’ve been

But the world doesn’t care wat u did

To get it in the first place

I’ve been standing in motion

I try to walk but

The passage jus gets longer and longer

Im tired of walkin now

So should I jus sit down to rest

The world would b a nicer place

If we all jus sat down

And let time do its thing

But we, the eternal meddlers,

We gotta stick our nose where it don’t belong

We gotta try to take things in our own hands

How long’s this illusion gonna last!

But I've Learnt To Live With It

The ragged sound of the city surrounds me,

But I’ve learnt to live with it.

The constant buzz of a cellular insect hounds me,

Chirruping, hooting, screeching, banging, beeping, vibrating,

But I’ve learnt to live with it.

Decomposition extends its filthy tentacles,

Trying to ensnare me, reaching out for me,

Begging for the touch of another human being,

Or just the feel of cold metal or paper,

Stumps reach out and tap my shoulder or grab at my shirt,

But I’ve learnt to live with it.

A modern Hades lives around me,

With inked bodies and pierced minds,

Breathing fire and sniffing for white gold,

But I’ve learnt to live with it.

The open space of a 2 x 4 cell is now all I have to myself,

That too with an elbow or arm or thigh thrown in for free,

I breathe in what you breathe out,

But I’ve learnt to live with it.

Pieces of broken glass stand between

Me and my fun day of play with the ball,

And ’fessing up’s not the answer,

All it’ll get me is a resounding reward,

Lying is now my biggest virtue,

But I’ve learnt to live with it.

I’ll have your cake, you eat mine,

I just forgot I had the bigger half,

Who needs a palace of cards to live in?

I’ve seen them do with plastic sheet walls and an asbestos roof.

The glaring eye of the societal eagle is on me constantly,

But I’ve learnt to live with it.

I’m too afraid to ask the right questions,

I’m too scared to make that call,

I’m terrified of meeting my demons,

But I’ve learnt to live with the rot in me.

The book doesn’t end here, only a chapter.

Innocence Herself

The music was teasing me inside my mind. The tune was lilting; enticing, yet with a hint of sadness hidden beneath a wave of joy. Light, high notes mocked me, interspersed with deep resonant ones. Around me the first class compartment was empty, dark and lonely.

I closed my eyes, something I do to fully enjoy any music, to get to its depth, its meaning. Immediately an image sprang to mind, a beautiful, white, ornate fountain with a little pool around it. As the music played, I could almost sense the scene unfolding before me. Around the fountain was dancing a little girl, her back to me. She looked young, no older than seven or eight. With the grace that a professional would have been jealous of, she danced around the pool, her curly hair blowing in time with her motion, carefree, innocent. As the music continued, so did her dance.

I wanted to see her, her face – the face that was mocking me so. Finally she spun around, and her sheer beauty took my breath away. She was the vision of peace, an angel, eyes closed, almost as though she were asleep. Her every move seemed to radiate a breath of light, cool, fresh air. I watched, entranced, as she continued to dance, blissfully, unaware of the existence of anything, of the world around her, of sadness, desperation or depression, of poverty, of evil. Lost in the swirling maze of my thoughts, I had not noticed that her beautiful, brown eyes were now open, and that slowly, rhythmically, gracefully, she was heading towards me. Even now, she tormented me, taking one step back for every two that she took forward. Slowly, but surely, she was coming to me. Soon, she was just a few inches away from me, now dancing slowly on the spot. The music was now beginning to fade, as the track reached its end. When the music did stop, so did the little girl. She reached out a hand to touch me, and I did the same.

I was suddenly jolted out of my vision by someone tapping my leg. I opened my eyes in surprise and blinked, caught unawares by the light that was surrounding me. I turned angrily on the intruder, the defiler of my sacred space. I almost died of shock when I saw the beautiful face before me.

She looked up at me with eyes filled with hope. She smiled at me then, the most beautiful smile I had ever seen in my life. I couldn’t help returning it. Seeing me smile, she burst into a giggle; almost as if we shared a secret that no one else knew. It was then that I heard a woman’s voice saying, “Come here, don’t disturb the poor bhaiya.

Those hopeful eyes filled immediately with disappointment, as the girl went back to the woman. Almost instantly I felt a wave of loneliness and dismay. Hurriedly I shoved my earphones into my bag and said, “No, no it’s fine, let her be.” The woman smiled. “Thank you, it’s the first time I’ve seen her laugh today.” And she let the child go. Her eyes were shining, but it was the little girl’s eyes that I couldn’t help gazing into. Those beautiful brown eyes were lit up, full of happiness and excitement.

She skipped over to me, sat down next to me as if she had known me all her life, and started talking about all sorts of things, from the ‘funny uncle’s moustache’ to the wind, from the window to aeroplanes. After a while, she told me she was sleepy. I told her that she could go and sleep with her mother. She looked up at me with those stunningly brown eyes and an expression that would have melted a rock and said, “Can I sleep with you?” I couldn’t find it in my heart to say no, even though I knew I had to get off only a few stops ahead. She clambered onto my lap, threw her arms around my neck, and soon, dozed off on my shoulder. As I felt her grip loosen and her body relax, I too closed my eyes for a moment or two. I heard the music once again playing inside my head, and knew that I could feel myself being filled with light and energy.

Five minutes later, I got up with her still in my arms, walked over to where the young woman was sitting. Kissing her lightly on the forehead, I handed her over to her mother. She smiled at me, mouthed a soundless ‘Thank You’, and waved me goodbye. As I got off the train, I smiled to myself too, for I knew I had just met innocence herself.

Thursday, 4 May 2006


We lose the ones we love everyday. Like a river eroding the bed below, shaping and smoothing the stones that lie under, so too do we, each day, erode a layer of our love, hope and dreams.

Each unspoken word, every feeling hidden away in the depths of our hearts, every emotion we won’t accept takes us one step closer to an emotional death that leaves us cold, hard, or worse, soulless.

The glance to the door when we’re expecting someone, the constant, repetitive checks on your phone to see if you’ve missed that call or message, the thousand curses when they’re late by five minutes, all is wound down to nothing, played down as if it never were. “I wasn’t waiting for you,” we say, when our heart has been burning for hours. We act as though we don’t care, we act like we don’t want them, we hold ourselves in, and lock ourselves in the prisons of our hearts behind walls so high and thick nothing could ever break through.

We do things on purpose that others may find out ‘by accident’. We hide our emotions to save face, to stay safe. Often we don’t say what we want to, hoping that the other will understand, or worse, that they won’t. We drop subtle hints to the fact that we don’t care, but they become glaring suggestions to the fact that we do. Most of us do not notice that those we think hate us the most actually love us and those we hope and think love us may not like us at all.

We hide behind a curtain of lies, a façade, a mask of cold detachment. We hope that we may appear strong, but only we know that we lean upon this wall within us. To others we appear strong, well supported, when actually, we are crumbling within, just like the cracked, plastered paint of the prisons we build for ourselves inside our hearts, hidden from view.

We don’t tell the ones that we appreciate nearly enough that we do. We act as though things that can break us do not matter. We force things to fit into the block shapes of our perceptions simply because we cannot accept that which we cannot understand. Simply put, we only see what we are expecting to see simply because we want to see nothing else.

I say all this today purely because we live in a world with a distorted understanding of the concept of love. Today, love is a rush, a high, not of the mind or heart or indeed, as it should, the soul, but of the flesh. For a moment of glory, which we cannot fully understand, we tie deadweight to our hearts and toss them into the lifeless black hole of momentary existence. What most of us do not understand is that intercourse is different from making love. That pleasure which the flesh gives us is not even a fraction, a glimpse of what love can show us. The carnal pleasures of the flesh would multiply manifold when they become more than just the fusing of two bodies, but the fusing of two minds, two hearts, entwined, combined as two lovers hold hands, fingers intertwined.

We are afraid to cry, afraid of what others will think of our moments of weakness. However, these are not what we think them to be, our lowest, weakest moments, but, in fact, our shining moments of strength. For these brief moments when the heart bleeds, the soul comes up to the surface; for these precious moments, we have lost all fears, all boundaries imposed on us by men weaker and more cowardly than us, all imaginary lines drawn in our minds by those before us. For those few moments, frozen in time, but molten in our hearts, we are not lying to others or ourselves. Indeed, we appear on the outside, for these scant moments, to be who we really are.

It is these moments that open the doors to our hearts, and allow our souls to permeate through the depths, the darkness of the layers, masks, covers, façades and lies that we hide under. It is not unlike the tide, wave after wave of lies coming further and further up the shore, splashing against the rocks, but we ignore the spray. And the waves conquer, moving forward further and further till the sands of our lives, indeed, the very essence of who we are is all but gone, washed away or hidden beneath the breakers. But then the tide recedes, and we are left naked, for all the world to see. Indeed, we are no longer who we thought we were, for a layer of the sands of our lives has been washed out to sea, never to return. Those shells that we had buried in these sands, never to be seen by others, now lie bared, as their protective walls lie crumbling around them, some in ruins, and others completely washed away.

Each tear that runs down our cheek is like a sediment deposited on this beach, a new pebble formed, a new rock by the shore. They add to who we are, and what we make of ourselves. Those of us that are afraid to cry are indeed afraid to live. Afraid, not as we may think, of others, of society, but of ourselves, and that we may actually have the capacity to love. It is sad that that which makes us the most alive, the most strong, the most true, honest and open, a builder of character and life is considered to be our liability, our weakness.

Those who are afraid to cry are indeed afraid to love. Love opens the doors to the soul, just like every tear, allowing our spirit to roam free, to roam the earth around us as it was meant, freeing it from the shackles of our minds, no longer prisoner to our ambitions. Life has taught us that what is good is bad, and what is bad is good. We all continue to live our lives without the proverbial ‘Fountain of Youth’ of the soul, the secret of its immortality, tears.

And we all believe this to be the ‘normal’ way of life, socially acceptable, and therefore, the right path to be taken. We do not for a moment consider if those fools before us might have gotten it wrong. Maybe life isn’t just a race to the finish, but a journey to be enjoyed with each other’s company. Maybe crying is not what posterity has told us it is, but a way to touch The Source. And maybe, just maybe, we should learn to open our hearts and love instead of opening our bodies and slowly killing our souls.