Things Change.

"Things change," you said
As you cradled my head
That leaked its soul
Upon your shoulder.
I cried some more,
Till my nerves were sore,
And you cradled me still
As it grew colder.
I wished I was bolder.

I spoke to you
Of broken sinews
That unweave themselves
As we grow older.
You replied with calm
You tightened your arms
And still stroked my hair
Flowing on your shoulder.
I said, "I want to be bolder."

I leaked my soul
A soul that was whole
I leaked my soul
Upon your shoulder.
Upon my soldier.
Upon your shoulder.
I can now say I'm finally bolder.

True or False

There’s a strain when you swallow,

I see sweat on your brow,
No lights on your cheeks
When you talk to me now.

Your words cause deflection,
Your stance is unsure,
My questions go unanswered
So I keep throwing more.

Missiles fall on my head,
They’re all coming from you;
A battlefield of these thoughts
And words I’ve found untrue.

I’m shocked and disarmed,
Now I watch from my base
As you send in your faux fighters
And hide your real face.

Sharp statements come flying,
Ripping through my air,
Desecrating my soldiers
That I had fought to lay bare.

Your army of nothing,
Your weapons of choice,
Destroy my entire force
Without making a noise.

It’s too late now
To put away your guns
Don’t stop now
This can’t be undone

Can you not see
Nothing verbal is on your side?
Can you not see
Nothing from you will ease my mind?
Can you not see
Nothing you say will make me go blind?
But you still tell me I can close my eyes.

There's a strain when you swallow,

Still more sweat on your brow,
No lights on my cheeks
As you deceive me now.

So tell me just how
You live with your lies,
Tell me how
You invite these goodbyes,
Tell me again
How you don’t hear my cries
And tell me just how
You find a way to sleep at night.

When you’re done annihilating,
When you’re through tearing my shreds,
I just want you to promise me
You won’t do this to anyone else.

Rules of the Universe Returns!

I've written a new post on my other blog after two years.

http://rulesoftheuniverse.blogspot.com/

Please, don't hesitate to click, read and share.
It's all free.

Thank you!

The Keeper.

Do you still wish you were seventeen

With all the room to display

Your mistakes as achievements

And think they will wash away?

Or are you stuck at fifty four

One more step outside the door

Because it didn’t really matter

What you really had to say?

Age is just a number that’s

Tied up by

Memories,

Keep yours safe for a while

In the pocket with your

Keys.

Did someone hear you out loud

When you whispered in my ear,

Or was it you hesitating to speak

Because your mind is still unclear?

You’re not that young anymore,

But you’ll never be this old,

We may never be clever enough to know

That we’re always a bit too bold.

Age is just a number that’s

Tied up by

Memories,

Keep yours safe for a while

In the pocket with your

Keys.

Skeletons are left in the closet
Secrets are kept in a box.
Carefully choose who gets to open
All of your little locks.

Skeletons are kept in the closet
Secrets are dropped in a box.
You choose who gets to undo
All your precious locks.

TheKey.

Camouflage.

It is not the changing colours or the beady black eyes; it is not the shelter of leaves that makes me a chameleon.
Bugs do not tempt my tongue, a stench will definitely make me nauseous. I do not even have a tail to make me a chameleon
So I fall back into the background, choosing to hide from sight and sound, completely aware that I’ve made myself invisible like a chameleon.

Like a chameleon.

I don’t need a cloak
Or some key to some door,
I see it’s a bit obvious
That I’m not what you’re looking for.

Change wont come in an instant
And I can’t walk on walls.
My tail won’t grow back
If you decide to break it off.

I can’t stay on a branch
For fifteen of your days,
I can’t stain myself blue
To fit your blue ways.

But I blend in really well
When you’re under my tree
My silence reinforces how
You don’t seem to see me.

I Had A Flat Today

So my car broke down a few days ago and I thought it would only be fit to write a little tribute.

This is the original copy of the song, re-written by me and me only.
Please sing in melody of "I Want It That Way":

You are my tire
Punctured, on fire
I threw you away
'Cause I had a flat today.

But we got on the road
To go get a load
Of things for my birthday
But I had a flat today.

Tell me why?
Ain't nothin' but a spike strip
Tell me why?
Ain't nothin' but a bad trip
Tell my why?
I never go that way
'Cause I had a flat today.

I am your driver
I set you on fire
Yes I know it's too late
'Cause I had a flat today.

Tell me why?
Ain't nothin' but the dumpyard
Tell me why?
Ain't nothin' but an old car
Tell me why?
I only wanna burn you away
'Cause I had a flat today.

Now I can see that your falling apart
From the way that you used to be, my car
No matter the distance I want you to go
You're going to breakdown on me

"You are now fired"
I punctured my tire
You are, you are, you are, you are...

Tell me why?
Ain't nothin' but a bad road
Tell me why?
Ain't nothin' but a wide-load
Tell me why?
I'm so glad that you broke down today
'Cause I crashed you anyway
'Cause I crashed you anyway...

Thank you.

The Tangent.

"The tangent line (or simply the tangent) to a curve at a given point is the straight line that just touches the curve at that point. As it passes through the point where the tangent line and the curve meet, or the point of tangency, the tangent line is going in the same direction as the curve, and in this sense it is the best straight-line approximation to the curve at that point."

Somewhere along the line
That is tangent to you
I see a little space for me

Should I go in?
I wonder what I’ll see
If I walk into you

Just ahead there’s a spot
A place for my entry
Upon this line

On tip-toes, I see
How you welcome me
To notice you

And my math tells me
Everything will be fine
Just as long as I walk
As long as I stay
On your tangent line.

The Tangent Line

As of October 2011

A small update on my life:
I'm now on my own again, a free bird, and an even better freelance writer than before. Yes, it's possible.

My time as the Editor for an online magazine was quite exciting, actually, and it's a shame I had to quit, but we all have to move on at some point right?

Anyway, the point here is I had been updating a story every week on the Emaho Magazine website.
It was pretty much my baby, and I'm quite pleased with some of it. I do wish I had more time to work on it and make the story really go somewhere, but I guess I'll just have to write a better story instead!

Please, if you have time, go through the few chapters I've written that are up on the site.
All of the chapters, including the Prologue, have been written by me; ignore the incorrect author tag.

Here's the link:
http://www.emahomagazine.com/category/travelling-shiva/

Thanks a lot, and if you've got some extra time, I've also been doing a bunch of interviews, so don't miss those either.
Contact me here if you like the work :) Feedback is always appreciated.

Cheers!

Cocoa-Nut.

The first time my blog is featuring a collaboration. I wrote this with Arjun Kanungo in Goa while sipping some hot chocolate and watching the wind and rain slay the coconut trees.

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Cocoa-Nut.

I shouldn't have taken that flight

Because I've ended up spending the night

On top of a coconut tree.

I did it to better my sight, I think,

I did it to better my might, I think,

But got stuck here, unfortunately.

The wind now is not forgiving,

And I've questioned the meaning of living

On top of the coconut tree.

My underwear is tearing,

Yes, the one my bum is wearing

Holding the weight of me.

Oh! How it feels to hang by a thread,

If I was home, I would wet my bed,

But NO, I'm on a coconut tree!

The alcohol went to my head,

Which now just feels like lead

And this is definitely not where I should be.

I really need to get down,

Without tearing more of my nightgown

On top of this coconut tree.

I barely remember how I got here,

Not a lot is really very clear

Except that I need someone to BLOODY RESCUE ME!

Window Plane.

Wrote this on my flight back to Bombay after my Phuket-Bangkok trip in June, 2011.

Just a passing wind of thoughts, like everything else outside the aircraft...

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Window Plane

The red light flashing on the wing

Doesn't mean a thing

When it's just me

The stars reflecting the city lights

Just don’t seem as bright

When it’s just me,

How solitary.

Not even turbulent weather

Can stir up a storm whenever

It’s just me,

Water trickling down clear glass,

The reflection of my only mask

When it’s just me

And I’m solitary.

Lightning wars in the clouds,

A witness to the heavenly shroud

And it’s just me.

But thoughts of you when I’m high,

My childish cravings in the sky

Fill the seat beside me

Though I’m still solitary.

Love is War.

Two in one night. I might have outdone myself...

***

We fight for what we care for. We love what we fight for. We care for what we love.

Mingled in all this is the passion that drives us and keeps us rooted.

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The tip of my tongue

The tip of your finger

The tip of the iceberg

And the explosions

They’re all around

Loud sounds

Broken glass

Strewn across the ground.

Back and forth

This boat moves us

As we steer

Into unclear waters.

The tip of your tongue

The tip of my finger

The edge of the volcano

And the eruptions

They’re more than we feel

Making us heal

Yet so vulnerable

Dropping us to kneel.

Down and out

Is where we’re left

As we embrace

To depend on each other.

Warm Smells, Warm Sounds.

In the worst of times, in the coldest of times, when I thought all was lost, I got just what I needed. 

Warmth and reassurance. 

Without it, this winter would not have been the same.

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Warm smells, warm sounds

As I rest

My head that drowns

Upon your chest.

Through waves, through beats

They go;

My senses feel the heat

That flows,

While uniting, it frees

What one never sees

In lifetimes present and done,

But experience, it shows

What emotion already knows-
A force that makes us one.