A Safe Place

Remember how we
promised to remember?
All?
How can we
forget the person
we love?
But we were
mistaken.
Very.
Our memories are
Not our own.
Never.
Moisture eats away
At our photographs.
Your shirt camoflages
with week-old dirties
In my laundry basket.

I have misplaced you.
I'm shifting house.

I stowed you away.
To a dungeon inside.
The ravines of memory.
A Safe Place.
But how was I
to know that
It caves in?

Your death becomes
a bunch of wilted flowers
on my window sill. 

Island

My balcony is an island
floating above city lights.
I see people floating by,
wheezing past my window,
traffic groaning into the night.

None of it touches
my balcony island.

I drown in my bathtub.
Press the sky.
Over my eyes.

And sleep.

My balcony-isle floats
the length of cityscape. 

I wade through the noise.
Weave myself a wreath.
Count lamp-posts till I meet
my Lancelot.

The city lights await,
his silhouette. 

My balcony-isle
collides and stops
at the bus-stop.

A Seasonal Lament

My David, don't you worry, 

this cold world is not for you. 

If there's one thing that everyone will remember you by, then that will be the ghost of a smile that always lingered in the corner of your mouth. Last night, the memory of that smile haunted my sleep. It kept fleeting past my eyes, hazy, grainy, but ever so palpable. We weren't close, some might say I'm overreacting, I cannot explain my own behaviour, but, you are terribly missed. You were always nice, one of the very few people who was nice to me. But you were nice to everyone. Not a person, never a person who will not remember you by your ghost of a smile.

            I remember you offering me your coat, the winter of turmoil, only because I was feeling cold in the campus, even though I had not asked for it. When I said I liked it, you said I could keep it for as long as I wanted, wear it, make it my own.  You were that nice. But last night, nothing prevented me from shivering, not even that coat of yours. You left behind a bad cold for me. And, heartbreak for so many of us!

             I don't know what your demons were, I don't know how ugly your demons were, I don't know how much they tormented you. But I hope, wherever you are, your demons have been put to rest. I hope, they can't take your freedom anymore. 

             We all loved you.. We will remember you for a long time, some of us till we grow old. July will never be the same again. I hope you are  better off now. 

Take care. 

-a grieved friend from the world which your demons inhabited. 

P.S: Some losses are irreparable. 

Linger

 I.

You linger in me

Like the persistence

Of letters sent

But never received. 

II.

I wash our tea cups.

Wipe them dry. 

Hook them up. 

No tea warmed their insides. 

III.

I lay the plates. 

A dinner, for two. 

The steam rising in spirals. 

It grows cold. 

Uneaten, soggy, forgotten. 

IV. 

I inch towards the bedroom. 

Just one pillow, 

instead of two. 

I look for the other. 

V. 

But it sleeps, 

with all your

other things in the loft. 

Only Your absence lingers on. 

Rest In Peace

Of poets