life

Blank Canvas

A plain canvas – naïve and blank
Open to the brutal assault of colours and textures, yet to come
Longing to be drenched – in your dreams and nightmares.

Undented and painfully happy,
Waiting to answer the call of your whims.
Smiling through my bruises, I was
as you lashed out with your violets and reds.

Scrapes and tears began to show,
on my calm façade –
I began soaking in your fantasies and fears,
your gashes– crude blacks and angry yellows.

As you gloated over your creation and basked in its glory,
Wild thoughts dragged crazily all over me
– shades of blue, deeper possible?

A canvas in my right no more,
me – a distraught reflection of your anger and smallness
A jumbled mess of colours and patterns,
Oh! There was no undoing this mess now.

As my tears rained through your creation
your anger came at me – pokes and angry strokes.
Pouring brighter hues of reds and oranges
To keep my wounds from showing.

You eyed the pot of an impassioned mix, to cover the last white spot
And I took one last breath in –
wondering if the creation of your masterpiece,
always meant the end of my existence.

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The other day

…….

We left the building and almost like she had secret drug to offer me, I followed her- dazed – through narrow walkways with colorful buildings on either sides. On my own, I would never make my way through a street like that. I thanked my new friend. The liberation I knew that was waiting for me at the other end, put a spring in my step. When she reached the doorstep of what seemed like our destination, she looked back, with an intriguing smile. I followed her into the place.

People with tattoos all over their body, piercings and wild hair colors, occupied most seats. I found a ‘distressed’ leather sofa and sat down – feeling a bit whoozy just from the atmosphere.

My friend came back, took my coat and asked me if I wanted wine, champagne or tea. Shushing a number of voices in my head, I asked for champagne. I wanted to acknowledge my complete failure at the event earlier.

As I sipped through the champagne, my friend approached me, with the smile that had now become eerily familiar. She asked me if I was ready and before I could gather my thoughts, she put her fingers with neatly manicured nails through a pair of scissors and started working methodically through my long locks. Over the next hour, she tossed and rummaged through my hair, chopping off curls.

I just sat there, sipping champagne; listening to a song I had never heard before, accompanied by tattooed friends, staring at the mirror at my changing face – as my locks dropped to the floor.

A lump formed somewhere in my throat – may be tear too.

…..

Calm

Grey day in London today.

A smile on my lips as I think about the gorgeous days when I used to take a bus after work from my office in Irvine, California to the Laguna Beach – just to see the sunset!

I would buy my hot chocolate, walk along the beach and perch myself up on the best seat to watch the show – atleast 3 nights a week. I carried a book and my IPod with me initially – but found them distracting and not half as interesting as the live show that would open curtains, day after day without fail – with or without audience.

People would go about their lives – walking dogs, texting away on the phone, jogging/biking vigorously and I would watch.

The calm that came with being the spectator, the passenger and not the driver was unparalleled. For the few hours that I spent there each day, I did not have to make decisions or take responsibility for anything. And that got me ready for everything.

I would sit there and watch – two hours of my life go by.

Now as I run around with no stops in London, I wonder if those few hours that I took out of my life then, is what gives me the energy now.

On those days when you don’t seem to get a break from the noise around you, imagine yourself in the best seats of an open theatre, watching the best show on earth.

Blue skies, bluer water – Calm all around.

Now breathe.

Why Timbuktu? Why me?

Timbuktu is a fantasy.

In another life, I would love to live there unlisted, and un-found.

So far, days and nights, ups and downs have all been full of stories.. interesting ones, scary ones, ones I would like to remember and ones I would love to forget. Together they make me who I am, who I will be.

All of them – even the ones I would like to forget, I would love to share. Not with anyone in particular – just with the world for everyone/anyone.

No lessons, no aha moments, no ‘I told you so’ moments. Just my everyday.

Come. Be my witness.