Reflections off a shiny cup

I held the cup in my hand.
I looked at my reflection on its shiny surface.
It was somewhat flattened, my image,
It seemed as if somebody pulled both my cheeks real hard
And they wouldn’t retract.
I smiled and the image became even funnier!
I laughed this time…
Although the image wasn’t very clear,
One could still make out the redness of my eyes!
I wish I had a picture like Dorian Gray,
Where I could hide my abominations.
I held the cup a little further away.
Everything else was visible now;
The red curtain, the dark road out through the window and the red apple.
The red apple on the table looked
More like a speck of blood on a shapeless table.
Martha lying on the floor looked out of place…
Her eyes were open and lifeless.
The sea of red blood encumbered her head,
The slope of the floor had taken the blood to the other side of the room.
I put the cup down and dragged in the smoke from a half-burnt cigarette
Until it burnt my lungs…then I looked at the cup again.
Now I could see my hand, and the knife
The knife seemed to bleed too...
The colour on it was darker than the flowing blood!

Palmistry

I wonder how palmistry works or so does astrology
Can they read even a dog's paw?
If I give them my pet's time or birth
Can they predict their future too?
What about the future of India then
Can the rivers act as lines of the palm
If India is the palm itself!
Can all countries have their future red?
Can't the astrologers suggest good stones to them
Can we avert our problems then?

Colour of my dreams

I wanted to paint again,
Not on canvas or paper.
I wanted to go deep inside my mind
And give colour to my dreams.
I don't always remember,
Whether they are always
In black and white, or simply black.
A little tone of red would help
If it had to be a monotone!
May be it would be in a brighter shade,
A lighter shade of sepia.
I have an abundance of red
I want to know what happens,
When you colour your dreams with blood!
Do they become real then?
Does anyone have the answer?

droplets

I have felt sand slip away through my fingers
Like people analogize them with possessions
But on sand, a few drops of water also act as binders
Is that what tears can also do to possessions?

Can a few drops of tears bind relationships as well?

Oh tell me for I do need to know.
Not for me but to the world I have to show,
Like with trees even bindings need to grow!

An exodus

‘It’ did not know how it was born,
When time progressed,
‘It’ realized its existence.
It was alone, not knowing what to do.
“Do I stand here all by myself?”
It asked itself.
“No!” someone inside ‘it’self worded.
What to do…‘it’ started moving alone.
There was no plain to move,
Just a narrow elevated gorge,
With long black grasses on ‘it’s left.
On ‘it’s right was a white lake with a large black well.
It looked deep very deep as ‘it’ could see from the distance.
From there it was easy to slip down for ‘it’.
And ‘it’ did…it flew down…
‘It’ did not know when it stopped.
But ‘it’ felt that it had hit upon some others
Some others…of ‘it’s kind
“Are they all like me?”
“Do they have the same questions?”
“What are we all doing here?”
‘It’ started mixing with the others.
But ‘it’ soon realized,
‘It’ could not interact,
‘It’ could not speak or gesture,
Nor feel…‘it’ could not do anything it wanted to.
‘It’ could only live…
And for some reason ‘it’ had to mix with others,
And for some other reason it was losing ‘it’s identity.
And they are all becoming ‘Unity’
And ‘Unity’ was joined by several more ‘it’s.
Unity expanded, enlarged until…
It moved near an ovular opening,
Which, sloped upwards,
And then…when another it joined ‘Unity’,
‘Unity’ could not hold any longer.
It found an opening and lo!
‘Unity’ was out…it started falling…falling downwards!
Another steep, sloping plain!
On its right was a very smooth mountain,
Which peaked as ‘Unity’ moved along it.
And, which had small intermittent holes.
On Unity’s left was another elevation…
This…less steeper and more like an expanded dune.
‘Unity’ flowed on
Passing through the holes.
And approaching its way were several more black grasses
Not all that fat as before but,
More coarse and less in number!
Suddenly, ‘Unity’ found the mountain on the right turn
And it turned to form a barrier in front of it
‘Unity’ flowed straight and slammed onto the barrier
The barrier was soft, but even then
Several ‘it’s flew apart.
But ‘Unity’ did not stop.
It curved out a path encircling the soft boulder-
You could call it a boulder…can’t you-
Through the black grasses it flowed and then,
Without even knowing it sloped upwards and then fell…
‘Unity’ felt air for some moments until
It hit against soft ground, several more ‘it’s disrupted out
And then more flowed out and more and more…
And suddenly ‘Unity’ was no more!

Yesterday I painted a tree

Yesterday I painted a tree,
You can guess what colour it would be.
I put some blue, some brown and red;
"It's not real!" Is that what you said?
Oh come up here and see!
How real the coulours can be!
The world's not what we get to see,
It's exactly the way we want to see.
Like now that you cry when you think of me,
And drown your eyes and set me free,
I feel your sorrow but I'm so very happy
Because it starts raining so beautifully.
I feel that I did not leave you today,
And that we both are still in our foray
Holding hands and treading slow
As if time haad stopped not willing to flow.
It's not what we thought it would be, heaven.
You'll get to live in the world you believe in.
We have our house, our garden and swing.
I'm waiting to see what else you'll bring.
No, come no soon for I want you to live.
I'll need some time in order to give,
More colours to dreamed-of-house up here
So that you don't miss colours, I left back there.
Yesterday I had painted a tree,
The colours there were so very free.
They flew and the flew and they did not merge,
But each took a form like tunes in a dirge.
I did not think it would find a place here,
But I'm waiting to see the look that you'll bear,
Once you look at my painted tree,
And find the peace you always looked in me.