“You needn’t put my picture there!” she exclaimed.
And his heart smiled more than his lips did. He did not bring new bangles merely because he liked the glitters. Well he did, but not on those bangles, instead in her eyes. He did not bring that picture because she moved in,but because it was always there, even before she thought of this city.
For two years the photograph hanged in his room, and now in the other, where she would stay. He lied, that he got it today. Today, yes, but two years ago.
The room was filled with smiles,and the hearts with hidden feelings on both sides. The story still waiting to unfold and to be told.
Drunk in lies of pleasure, and satisfaction in low,
My mind swung to the other side, in tempest flow;
Clinging to the crime, these darkness still show,
In pits of vulgar humanity, I let myself grow.
I reap in ambiguous shade, the rotten fruits of pleasure,
I looted an innocent of her innocence and treasure;
My mind skipped senses, and acted in mere pressure,
As father I smiled and covered beastly gesture.
When head ached hard, my heart swelled fast,
My eyes wide in shame, stole moments of last
Night, a gloomy state rolled a mistake aghast;
And ruined my noble moralities of past.
Social stature was damned, from a fake high,
My esteem in confidence became a mere lie,
I am left devastated, in my self made sigh,
Why should the world not wish I die?
For I have more than killed, and been demonized;
For this my body, my soul shall also be prized,
My name and knowledge, my family be despised,
I shall fall to heat and blood, unsurprised.
P. S. Original idea and theme of the poem is not mine.
Would she wait? Why should she? She should have died at her age. What will she now do?
He had not left her to decide. She found only her wedding dress, new as before, to cover her regenerated naked skin. She could hardly perceive that, this also was pre-designed. She thought she is walking away from his memories and their place. But next she saw her feet still, was on the door of Jesus. She was arrested by his eyes; a young, handsome face, dressed as her groom. But she was uncertain of his face. She had not a faint remembrance of her man’s face. So no question of resemblance was raised.
What took her in? She knew not. They were married, as she had to be, on her twentieth birthday. And with some confused, helpless emotions, she, or for what she thought, had resolved to try her fate. They lived a more happy married life than she before did, or that is what she felt. For she lacked any clear remembrance of her past, but what she could fairly remember was his death, and her forced fate.
She waited for two score years, but in absolute love. She was probably the most fortunate lover, but what love is if there is no separation………..?
Her wheels were ahead of his, and she drove in his search. But found him only beneath closed eyes! She escaped from him, into him. Their deceived love did die, but he lived in her scent. The new person who came was his shadow, so she fell in no love.
Her nine yards ethnic piece
Of colours and patterns varied
Crimson and peacock tints
Shy eyes bow down in love
Courtesy in every pair upon
His eyes shine and blush her cheek
His love rises and rises esteem
This silk silky shield
Covers and colours his heart
A double of love imagination
His position of keen tickle
His restricted actions reactions
But those pulls of eyes
And tumults of soothed heart
Which neither she nor her silk understands!
Her man had never told her, that he was not born on the land, he took her to. He came from elsewhere, something he no more remembered. She was his destiny, and he laboured to remember no more. This gift he got, which only his mate could absorb, was his only concern. Only Pearl and nobody else could be his mate, his soul mate.
Her milky skin and her keen blue eyes, also accepted this eternal proposal. His departure and his gift; she needed so much time to digest these huge alterations. To overcome his sudden betrayal. But the moment he died, her tears dried, her skin bloomed in pink, her flesh turned forty years younger. His mortal flesh got mixed in dust, within a moment. He vanished like he never existed. And soon she would vanish, like she never died.
She searched his closet for his book, his letters. “You meet me on our wedding,” was written over all his scripts, “when you turn twenty……….And you turn twenty in every forty years, when I ……….”
Her body was tired, not soul.
Listening to past, written and recorded
Listening to dark rocks and green fields
Listening to creatures unseen – unheard
Listening to glory, all lost
Listening to the singers of intellect
Listening is what I think, why I do
Why I listen, and unshut my ears!
I spent a million dreams on you
A sack of expensive words
A full river of unconscious thoughts
Indemnify the loss of time, and jollity
Recompense the youth I sacrifice.
sinking beneath shell water bed
publishing tones of roughed lure
throbbing naked eyes of pearl
with charming elegance of dust
embroidered sky cloth with shades
of violets and roses and green
shapeless perimeters of ferns
waving in underwater breeze
tints of azure and ultramarine soaked
assembly of motley thalassic aquatics
is my heart transformed into
deep and dense, dangerous and destined