Spare

Half rupee By bus to school, And half more saved When I'd come back.  From a note of ten, Everyday, A coin of one Upon my stack. Saved, thus earned, My daily wage Piled up at A glacial pace. Towers grew, Until I bought A book— one-tenth Its price in weight.  Here, today, The weight is gone! I pay by clicks And swipes and scans. When one in need Walks up to ask, I pat my purse With helpless hands. The bits of what I earn are rare. Big awkward notes Lie unexchanged.  No tiny piles Of saved up coins... The price of good old Change has changed.

Flavour

Once it touched my tongue, I flinched. “Must be the minerals.” I thought With my face pinched. Rolling it in my mouth I wondered about its source. Freshness in it aplenty So I let it run its course. A moment of relief Sets my tired body to rest. On second thought, “Please get me a bottled water instead.”

Altered

Ran then— I sit now. Ate slow— I'm quick now. Read then. I hoard now.  Slept sound— no idea how. Used to laugh then. I still do, But not quite why I used to. Wept then, cried my heart out— Now I smile weak, or fake pout.  Had nothing to give, and I pledged it all— Now I have things but my heart is small. Wasn't brave then— I'm more scared now. Used to live then. I just live now.

Metamorphosis

Evolution: Volatile. Inevitable. Varying, mutating, revolutionising, Curing ailments of thought. Growth.

Circumstance

Crying was common. Happiness, more so. Am I even alive? Nothing left to show: Green days, browned, Each one of them drowned.

Healing

I was afraid of the past. Embarrassing moments That would forever last. Regrets, endless, Into my heart were cast. I was afraid of the future. The whens. The hows. Success measured on a ruler. Would I still be around, This body held together by suture? I was afraid of the present. Shame of days past, hesitance Of times ahead lurked unpleasant. Worries, like vultures, Circled above my head, incessant. Now I've shed my fears. What was. What is. What will be. To them I raise my cheers. My yesterday. My today. My tomorrow. They are all but me.  My years.

Hope

There once was a boy (that was me) Who played and read with glee. Calendars none At ten-and-one, But he wished he was older. "Free".

Of course, that wish came true. While ecstatic, he now knew That the system works In ways that irks Anyone with a braincell or two.

Now he's always wishing for time That's free from work— to rhyme, To call, to meet, To peacefully eat… To not have a ladder to climb.

He dreams this drudgery will end, And ties that have snapped will mend. His friends and kin Will hug, and grin, And the love that he needs, extend.

Spinning Yarns

I once said I had a mother. To be honest, I don’t even remember her colour.

I created memories with her from nil. Screaming, laughing In photographs unclicked. A yearning that lingers still. I once said I have been to a place. To be honest, I never had. Of me it has no trace. But in my head, I have been To every place I have ever wished. My fingers trail maps Just itching to begin. I once said I knew the sitar. To be honest, I can barely hold a guitar. Still, many mini concerts I hold for myself: Fans chant my name And rip off their shirts! I once said I had seen a film. To be honest, I wanted to impress, on a whim. I have seen films aplenty. Held discourses alone, Thoughts threaded like notes, Singing of their beauty. I once told a lie. To be honest, I still don’t know why.

Countless stories I hold In my heart and in my head. But none will keep your attention, So my truths are kept untold.

Friend

I made a friend yesterday. I didn't mean to, Although I'm glad I did. Of course it took two To turn waves into hugs And laugh at coffee mugs— Because (if you'll believe this) He was made at the office. Nothing special here. We're just polite. And keen To not prod and wake Any discomforts unseen. We miss our own selves most—  That was our toast. Of our leisures, we spoke Like commonfolk. What do I do with this Friendship in my hand? I'm quite lost In Newfriendland. Maybe nothing at all. There's no court. No ball. I'll just watch this unfold. Maybe, maybe, he's struck gold.

Snatch Forty Winks

Another tiring day. I didn’t move a muscle, Watched people, again, Running to go hustle. Eyes followed their feet, And I let drowsiness seep. I think I have looked enough. I think I will go now and sleep.

Another hectic day. As I ran from post to pillar, My mouth poured out pleasing words, That always feel like filler. Now, on my tongue I feel a dryness creep. I think I have spoken enough. I think I will go now and sleep.

Another happy day. Spent with dearest friends, I laughed until I cried And hoped this never ends. We will depart again, Wishing this friendship runs deep. I think I have loved enough. I think I will go now and sleep.

Lethargy

Pastime

Domestic Concerns

Told that adult life was itself a chore, I expected, alas, this to be lore! No one handed them to me: I took them upon myself, you see. 

Never told of things to be done, I alone shot myself with this gun. Voices laugh as I run around Making a mess, more chores to be found.

Now I make lists and count my to-dos, Only red ticks mark the end of my blues. Chores every day are a chore for sure! I can claim, at least, I live a life “mature”.

Music

I sang like a cat with a cold: One that mews sick. So, they never trained me to sing Since melody and I wouldn’t click. I was a single-digit-old Who wanted to do everything Quick. But I knew no trick That would help me pick A drumbeat or a guitar lick. I strummed like a rheumatic chimp: One already tired. While I tried to play the guitar, I spent less hours than learning required.  I’d unjustly skimp On time with some excuse bizarre. Inspired, But indecision hardwired, I never grabbed what I desired... Thus, bits of my life transpired. Now I play like a brown recluse spider: In my own little nest. A little this, some of that; alone, When there’s no one to protest. My interests have grown wider With no progress to be shown, Unstressed. My piano keys mostly rest, And my strings I rarely test. To play, I find Spotify the best.

Choose

Be kind. In moments that ask To leave softness behind, To rage, to snap, to take to task, To “be a man”... Remember, then, that you can Always be kind.

CTA

What to say that hasn’t been said before? Talk of equality and empowerment Now seem like only lore. Snatch that freedom! The time to ask is gone. More and more, every day, every dawn.

Attractive

I pull uninvited reviews At first glances. Then my body vanishes, Forgiven. Forgotten When I speak of my finances.