"If you please - draw me a sheep"

A tiny voice inside me whispered,
"If you please - draw me a sheep"

But it's been so long. That little boy is now a grown-up. He no longer does silly things like drawing. He stopped believing in Santa long ago. He doesn't play hide and seek anymore. Its been ages since he swung on a swing, slid down a slide, went round and round in a merry-go-round. The waves swept aside the sand castle long back. Ofcourse he can talk about golf, politics and neckties. I am sorry, that little boy who loved to draw, is lost and I don't know where to find him.

"That doesn't matter. Draw me a sheep ..."

My red jacket and all things ridiculous!

Yesterday as I walked past the malls and showrooms I felt the urge to buy something. Something I really didn't need. Something I could definitely live without. Something that I might repent buying later. Something that would be completely superfluous, pointless and vain!

I might have bought the first thing I saw in the showroom. But the red jacket caught my attention and I had to put it on. It fit me and I liked the way it looked when I drew the chain right up to my throat. I noticed it lacked collars. My friend smirked and said the color was too loud, that I might look like a red cherry bobbing up and down in the middle of the street. But I was in a mood to ignore color, collar or any such thing. Well may be I want to bob up and down the street like a red cherry. So shut up!

Ridiculous and Pointless,
Loud and Insane,
I am splashing water,
Dancing in the rain.
Running here and there,
Jumping up, arms outstretched.

You standing there,
Looking at me,
Break all shackles,
Set me free,
And when I run amuck,
Let me be!

To the Sea

It's been raining so much.
It's as if the sea has evaporated, collected into colossal clouds and started pouring on us. It won't stop raining.

You have come to meet me? Its been so long since we met. I can't quite remember, was it in February that I walked up to you. I didn't have much to say, besides I had company.

Why am I silent? There isn't much to say. Do we have to speak when we meet?

I flew by you a couple of times. The plane touched down but I had a connecting flight. How could I meet you?

You have come to me. May be that's why it's raining. You have come to meet me, haven't you?

The Quandary of Dimensions

When I first saw his book, 'A Suitable Boy', what struck me was its enormous size. It was a gift to me and instantly I had begun to think of the person who gave it to me to be a quintessential 'sadist'. Was I to read that book? I might as well practice weightlifting with it! The book contained 1600 pages and was around 5 cm in thickness! It had no illustrations but a solitary photograph of the author. He looked like a handsome debonair, but then he bore a diabolical grin that said, "Go ahead, read it”. I wasn't seduced by that smile. The book was just too thick for me! I had almost decided to let the book gather dust on my shelf when I was prodded on to read the book by somebody who had successful journeyed the entire thickness of the book and was so brainwashed by its contents that she couldn't stop praising it.

So I relented and began at the very beginning. I laboured on till I was around a cm into the book beyond which the book grew on me to such an extent that I could no longer live without it. I followed the book around, chased it everywhere like its shadow. The book didn't find a moment of peace. It was under constant surveillance and I had my eyes all over it. Had I spent a few more weeks reading I would have become a fictional character hidden somewhere within the 5 cms of the book. I confess by the time I finished the book, I found it too small.

When I first saw the author I was struck by his lack of height. I thought the possessor of the handsome face would be atleast 6 feet tall. He was hidden behind the furniture somewhere, and we could make out his approximate position by the commotion surrounding the spot and the entourage of press photographers that had encircled him. This is perhaps how physicists locate black holes in the universe - by the flurry of stellar activity around it! The black hole slowly made its way to the stage. He seemed quite uneasy, didn't know what to do with his hands, didn't know whether to sit or stand. So they gave him his book, and asked him to read.

He spoke. Eloquent speech and diction that was so British. He would use words such 'vicissitude' and 'foible' with such ease that it made the rest of us sound like ignoramuses. On stage we saw him grow in size. We saw the depth in what he meant. We saw his clarity of thought. We saw his acute observation of detail, the vast ocean of his knowledge. We saw his simplicity and we saw the complexity. We wondered about his chemical composition and his physical attributes. I couldn't believe my eyes for by the time he finished he was 7 feet tall! I am sure he is a quirk of nature.

What is it about sizes,
The length of shortness,
And the weight of lightness?

What is it about sizes,
The depth of gladness,
And the scale of madness?

A Slight Oversight

This one is for that sweet little girl who is my best friend. Are you reading?

It's eery how the two of us can be so similar.
Everything you do seems an act of my own.
Every emotion of yours is mine.
When you eat, I must be chewing.
When I itch, you must be scratching.
When you are hot, I must be sweating.
When I am happy, you must be smiling.
Knowing you is like self discovery!

A slight oversight by God - He made you a girl, when he was photocopying me!

Coffee, Ice Cream or Me?

Over a cup of coffee,
Between sips,
Silly gossip,
Giggling fits.

Drag me along,
To boring mushy movies,
Or shopping malls,
To carry bags?

Ok what next,
Chocolate ice cream?
That's something,
You can't resist!

Outside your house,
You still haven't finished,
I turn to leave,
And you hold me back!

Conversation

We drew each others faces. She was a designer, an artist by profession. But drawing faces wasn't her cup of tea. So she scratched it off as soon as she was done drawing. I had spent a lot of time, in my classroom days, sketching teachers. Besides I pride myself as a good portrait painter. I even sold portraits at one point of time. Anyways that is besides the point. I drew some kind of likeness of her, and showed it to her. She smiled but didn't say a word about how good it was! I found her silence amusing.

Then another day she painted my bedroom wall. We had fought earlier in the afternoon. But she was not one to leave a job incomplete. She painted blue waves and green waves. She wouldn't let me touch it. It was beautiful. She cried all the while and wouldn't speak a word. I couldn't bear her silence. I asked her why she was still painting. But then I realised that I would never get any answers.

Instinct

A breeze. The leaves rustled. She awoke with a start. Lulled by the sound of bubbles and fishes she had fallen asleep, she did not know when. The boat was anchored almost midstream by a tight rope to a mangrove tree. But it was the backwaters and it was low tide. The branches of the tree knarled powerfully and gripped the soil with all its might. No storm could pluck it apart. The shore was not too distant. But the night was dark and foggy, so she couldn't see beyond the shore. The forest was dark and impenetrable. It was a vast unknown.

The beast stood there. The breeze wafted towards him, bringing to him her smell. He lay hidden behind the trees. Along the shore he trode, his eyes upon her. With his practised eye he measured the distance to the boat, and wondered if he could make it. He was prepared to wait. He had set his eyes upon her.

She shifted uneasily. She could sleep no more. She had a premonition. May be she saw it coming.

Ulysses

Travelled far and wide,
Fought my private wars,
Lost my friends,
You pinned me down,
But I got up again.

Met one-eyed beasts,
Pillaged islands,
Courted nymphs,
Oh such strange places,
Have I seen!

Gods conspired,
To hold me back,
Utter misfortune,
Have I faced,
Now I come back to thee.


The earth, she can take so many forms. So much beauty, all around. So many mountains, have I to climb. So many seas, to swim across. My list grows longer, each day. Time is running out.

There is nothing I love more, than to wander about.