23.1.14

Writings from that place




I do not know the difference between before and after
Inside the shopping mall, night could well have been the day
the only indication of a present
is that pain in the feet, possibly due to walking a long way.

but lets not talk about that
it is not what I wish to talk about
I want to mark this moment
and separate it from this long continuum

why is it important, you ask
to just type down my tryst with nausea
passing it for a poetic event
umm, perhaps its not! After all,

we are doomed to repeat the same mistakes again
stuck in our solitudes
Like a dog running after its tail
wait, I am not sure if that's the right metaphor at all.

it is a struggle
to remove the glasses, tinted by the pasts
transgression has become a victim of its own abundance
How does one write about uneventfulness?

Again, this is about marking!
distinguishing this moment from the next
like tagging a photograph as 
"the day when we went..."

but such moments happen lesser and lesser
the blues hold the falling pieces in place
On autopilot most things happen
but time runs out
like excess water seeping through mud in a flower pot

I shift from muse to muse
expecting a tour-de-force moment to happen
but I am sure that when that moment comes
I will reject it, and move on!

As so over I would be
that I would have played all the possible scenarios of that situation already...


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