elk crossing

for it is but nature
to fit inside the perfect little
uneven chaotic
to be someone who wasnt
and still isnt
just exactly right
and to drumbeat forever
and make a wish
and make a door
and make a world
one hopes the darkness is
one believes in it
for the qualities of light
are forever changing
and the permanences of darkness
are forever life

the sound garden

somewhere after little bits of solitude started creeping into the narrative, constant and growing, small silences growing into larger, like ink bleeding into water, as all things grow, life grew like a monster into the distance, as a speed blur haemorraging change providing everything a human might ever need in a few more lifetimes, and I became, quite miraculously the slowest creature on the bridge of hot coals, with no way but toward, burning all the time, and quite soon charred and lifeless. and I kept stopping, with my newfound solitude, refusing to let go, as life was screaming, as were my feet. as with all pains, after a few years, the massive damage became a matter of course, of growth even, and that which was lost, quite invisible and unnecessary in the constant immediacy of pain and destruction, on which I added a few years, to take back silence. and what happens after we can no longer feel our feet, when there is no ground left to feel even if we wanted to, I was pretty sure I was done, this was it, the soft light coming on was the rest that was now some predatory dream. but apparently what happens after we discard the mortal shell as being completely totalled, is some kind of preternatural affinity of sound, possibly a return of the slavering animal from a few thousand years ago. a natural regression of sorts. the excess of sound perception was just as beautiful and addictive as the pockets of solitude, and I gained the courage to sit down on the hot coals, and remove more of the mangled motion that became pointless in quite a flood. its quite likely that a cool evening walk for pleasure, is permanently obliterated from my future. at some point of hopefulness, maybe 19, I had a vision of how this would come to pass, but I always assumed with a childs naive optimism that I would sleep on it, and the glass house, would once again, become perfectly feasible. And then again at 28, that I would go to a new country, and ta daa. but really, when my hair drops, and something feral is all I have left, all civilization quite melts away as if it never were. Except perhaps the state of self-preservation. That one is switched off, I dont know how to egg it alive again. The music constantly grows, louder and more nuanced. Not quite frightening, but what is, not quite inspiring, but what is, just sort of there, the knowledge of it, the insistence that no this, not that, a wildly undemocratic preferential, the absolute worst, because the pendulum, its in a corner, and gravity isnt working. as is other natural law, theres no way I should be still around, charred, broken and almost entirely invisible. this phase is personal, amorphous and uncontrolled, free of solid rulebooks, and all mine. It offers some kind of basal rhythm for charting the forward to the final destination, as it always were. now, a few months from now. we, every last one of us, will no longer be, in another 100 years, but im quite content now to hear the occasional musics of the other billions than try to meet every last one alive. turns out, we are boringly repetitive, and unless we can add a tune to it, the circles get frighteningly into dots, and there is nothing left to add, that might, in a 100 years, bring about something new, fresh and hopeful. Im no longer quite as detached as I would like, I have to reach in further to find silence. But at least its not so gaussian any longer.

muerta mae

we were in the burj tower, catching a plane from the top floor, for what else, where earth touches sky. But I was climbing up the spiral stairs, and you, you were on the ground, in the garden, with a friend, where did you find a friend here, where do you find a friend anywhere. and I have never been there before, and I thought it might be quite unlike a bright spiral car park. I shout out to you, and the elevator is coming down, time to go, time to go, we'll miss our flight. the next time was mumbai, not as much celestial anymore. I was in the dense rainy bus station, its time to go for that interview, so informal, just a quick chat with a recruiter. And I do get the right bus, and I am busy mapping out where we'll meet after, close to his office, but not too, we mustn't mix formal as closely with the casual. And I send you the location, its parallel and to the left, a few streets away, I may take the bus there, you will not recognize Mumbai, the glass, and the buses. And google maps is absolutely a game changer in arcadia, you would have loved it, but otherwise, not much has changed really

the unbearable likeness of being

in a rational sort of way
with love and compassion
for the fellow creature
floating hope with laughter
huggings and beautiful things
comfort and conversation
family and friends
this slow and rapid aging
the lightning flashes
of roofs, paths, plans, people
of walking through a cloud
with a child by the hand
projecting occasional veneers
of success and belonging
with a deadly fear
of perpetual stupidity

an abstract in red

the circle of life
wildly obvious
to the headless horsemen
somewhere perfectly balanced
with the intransigent I
and impossible
pirouettes in orbit
grief at massive speeds
to deblur without a flesh wound
on timeless time
the sea awaits

an unfamiliar texture

she said, styling her swirls
to the immortal Paul Squires
inside an ecosystem
of ice cream
with soda, sprinkles, chocolate
vanilla and jam,
raisins and almonds
and it snowed in April
so far away
from a dense evening
in Durgam Cheruvu
with MtnDew with Mountain

the hectic verse of fear

inside the fulminating darkness, as my head pounds away, in migraine 14235, which is almost the number of days ive lived on earth, thought there would be more of those somehow. my wisdom teeth are in for many years now, but wisdom isnt. I still flap in rhythm, in the hectic verse of fear. trying to be, full of flesh and fur, earthfire without. in dreamfell, these mirrors are not kind, I am etched in such detail, it feels like a gash in the substance of being, too much opulent sorrow, pathos, reality, mercant, in what is, but a whiff of rest, a kind of stillness.

I can quite see the full power of free wind, but what would a sightless woman do, if I couldnt smell the smoke, or see anything at all. I feel the heat increase, but there are no sounds for direction or cause. I stick my tongue out, as the only other feeler left on my person, but without the smell, the curl of flavor is a texture, unfamiliar and frightening. no one comes running to take my hand and write with their fingers, I feel a debilitating envy for the blessed who have stairs and pavement. reality that is theirs by existence. I call for help in a soundless shout, and feel the first trickle of smoke into the lungs.

I am, by arduous necessity, an authority on what is intrinsic, but this night, it does not care, it breezes around everything that is solid and sharp bevel, as if it never were, and I, I hold its hand, I understand it, I understand all things. My heart starts pounding beat with the head, and I start erasing myself assiduously, to understand is to become. not to be naive, to the conscious me frighteningly critical with butterfly memories that stretch into pasts I did not live. the shaded pointless creature living in a beautiful multiverse, but constantly changing place and time.

Of the enormous fete of being born female, everything extrinsic is a gift, something the world consciously withholds, something this night turns into the unconscious. all substitution feels like a weave to hide something I am.

when nothing moves, the world beyond my reach is galloping away around the sun in all earnest, my hands start clawing for clarity, the glasses go on, all medias are combed for orderly notions, assiduously finding my place again in the mainstream, like a puzzle piece under the carpet. there are of course as many bright sunshiny mornings where its perfectly obvious that I am, right there in the group photo, my reason on earth obvious and moral mountaintop, but they are impossible to visualize tonight.

somewhere beyond shadow and reason, this little box with brick walls, keeping me warm and safe, feels so far away from its neighbour. my hands fumnle on the keyboard, and in this particular minute, its not possible for everyone to join hands and dance a little dance to remember, life is perfectly obvious.

cold fact

is pale light from the stars
that travelled time like distance
to bring validation
of their existence
without drama
that we assume must be
cold fiction, hateful or relentless
but is in fact warm
endlessly hopeful
like water makes life
and we are our own
only evidence of it all

phish 53

its a most interesting postulate
given all the power in the world
and no consequences
in theory
would someone do
the right thing
the right way
at the right time
with the right wikipage
for posterity
um hello???
obviously, abuse of power
is a thing
but how, why and how much
now imagine, we all
each and every single one of us
with the power of internet, google
and near unlimited information
could sit that throne
all day long
and the who of it
becomes vital

shopping for a life

Lea pulled her purse out of her cupboard. She looked around. Her apartment was spic and span, precise as a pin. She aligned the last diary against the side of the study table. Black leather against mahogany. Perfect. She then went and stood in front of the mirror. And asked it, Am I ready? Her reflection stared back with the beginnings of joy. Her life would change, irrevocably. Her apartment would not be so perfect anymore. But she was ready.

Her cellphone rang. She eased it carefully off its throne, a stylish leather case, thought for a minute, then flung the leather case into the dustbin. Three pointer! Wow, she really was taking some risks today, she thought with exhilaration. She answered the phone – “Adi… Yeah. I’ll be there in another 25 minu… uh, about half an hour” She put the naked cellphone into her purse, then, after a last yearning look at the dustbin, left the apartment.

Aditi had already reached and was in the waiting lounge. She looked up from the magazine she was reading, as Lea walked in. Her noiseless feet glided across the floor and she walked up to Aditi.

The whole office was steel and glass in shades of aquamarine and a blushing pearl, it gleamed with efficiency and a saucy undertone of promise. Promises of the third degree, thought Lea wryly.

“Nervous?” Aditi asked her

“You bet! You sure you don’t want to join me?”

“Naa, not yet. Too much work.” Aditi was dismissive. “Im not even sure YOU should be doing this”

“I’m ready” Lea said confidently.

A man walked in and past them into a distant door. They both followed his progress intently. He didn’t give them a second glance. He was a fine specimen, tall, broad- shouldered, lean hipped, with a strong angular face. His hair was long and straggly and the clothes were shabby. He looked supremely out of place there. Familiar primitive emotions swept over Lea – Pain, fear, anger, and a little …longing? She looked at Adi and saw some measure of the same confusion reflected in her eyes.

They both stood up in unspoken synchrony and walked up to the receptionist. Lea spoke up. “Lea, appointment for 12:30”. The receptionist smiled mechanically and said – “Tanya will see you now. Please step through the door to your left.” They were halfway there before she had finished speaking. Lea had been obsessing about this for six months now, and they could have found their way around the place blindfolded.

They both walked into the darkened auditorium where Tanya sat at a computer in the lone pool of light. She looked up and said with a smile– “Hello Lea. We thought we could never get rid of you!”

They all laughed, Lea, a little nervously – “Can we have a look at the finalists again?”

“Certainly” Tanya switched the projector on. A bluish holographic image of a man waving at them appeared in the middle of the room. His hair was almost completely gray, he was handsome with a very square jaw and smiling eyes

“Gentleman No.1 – Jan Hardwell. Age 53. Owns two ranches in Nevada, made big money in Texan oil, a millionaire several times over. Harvard, of course. Plays golf, and is up to scratch, and in every sense of the word ladies!” Tanya finished with a wink.

They both sighed with approval. Aditi gave her usual “please go with him” squeeze on Lea’s hand. Aditi was completely in love with Jan after hearing about his millions over six months. They were growing on her. But Lea wasn’t so sure. Sometimes, choices were the worst things to have.

Lea looked at Tanya. Tanya nodded and switched to the next.

Jan faded off and another man appeared, much younger, very dark, geek-handsome, with glasses, smiling rather shyly into the camera

“Gentleman No. 2 – Ekundayo Roho. Creator of the Nanowitch. Is said to have developed the idea of the supernanocomputer when he was ten. Not in the big league yet financially, but definitely going places! Very low profile. A chess prodigy and above average squash player”

Lea was almost certain she was going to pick him. She stared hard at the hologram memorizing every detail. This was the only man who had seemed human to her, and very attractive too. Aditi, who thought him a rather soft choice, folded her arms in resignation and sat back.

Lea spoke – “I’d like to see the last one” Tanya nodded and switched again.

An extraordinarily beautiful man, of uncertain age, appeared. He had very dark intense eyes, and a smile to stop hearts with. He was very well built wearing a thin sleeveless shirt that showed off classically defined biceps. All three women drooled a little guiltily at this vision of male perfection.

“Gentleman No. 3 – Ashraf Ras. Actor, superstar. The highest paid artiste in the world. Magnetic personality, immensely talented and passionate. Crazed fan following of millions, you know the rest, he’s a household name ladies! Between you and me, I would pick him everytime!” Tanya said with a roguish smile

Lea went back to indecision again. She kept remembering the man they had seen in the waiting room. The greek god. Maybe she should have approached him directly. Talked to him. She felt a little edgy and disturbed about it. Then she dismissed him. Besides, he was probably available here. She wasn’t here to try to capture one in the wild. They were civilized people!

She asked Tanya hesitantly  “There was a man who just came in…Rather tall and a little unkempt. Do you have his profile?”

Tanya’s face beamed in recognition – “Oh he’s just a regular profile. I can even give you a big discount on him if you want!”

Tanya switched to the hologram of the unknown man. He was the same as Lea remembered. He looked strong and rather attractive. She puzzled over why she was drawn to him so much, over so many others, and then gave it up.

Tanya read dutifully “Gentleman No. 4, Tano Naiman, is…um… in between jobs right now…That’s all I have” she looked at Lea very doubtfully

Lea had decided. She didn’t even know why. Couldn’t bring herself to care either.

Tanya put her hand on Lea’s “Are you sure dear?”

Lea nodded with resolution she didn’t know she had. Tanya hugged her. –“Then all the very best dear! I wish you a world of joy with the gift”

Aditi looked at Lea frowningly – “Lea, for crying out loud!”

Lea looked back at her – “Whose decision is it?”

Aditi sighed and flung her hands in the air.– “Whatever! SIX MONTHS we hunted like madwomen and she goes and picks him” Aditi swept her hand at the offending hologram and smacked her forehead in frustration.

They both went back to the reception and waited. Finally Tanya came from the laboratory with a supercooled sealed jar with “Tano Naiman” on it.

Tanya handed the jar to Lea and said “Remember, use within forty eight hours, and see a gynaecologist within two weeks! All the best darling!”

She hugged Lea and went back to the auditorium. Lea stared at the jar, more sure than she had been all day. This was the right thing to do.

Aditi, normally undemonstrative, hugged Lea tightly “I can’t believe you’re going to be a mommy!…Although I wish it was somebody else” she couldn’t resist a parting shot.

Lea smiled through sudden tears. “Yeah…Yay!” She wiped them and said – “Look on the bright side! Remember the stories my grandma used to tell. Remember what they had to do for a baby?”

They both relived the stories and the details of what men and women did in the years gone past and shuddered in disgust. And Lea thought of Tano …And felt it again… The unfamiliar longing…

why why not

And what of the blurring the confusion the loss of pristine clarity in rain forests? For what we see when we open our eyes, is what I see, and the games in the snow, in the sand and the mud, they change the scale of belonging and things, but what I see, no one can, what I say is feathers in the breeze, and we both, in our infinite wisdoms and finite belongings, we come together and bring palms of the best of ourselves, and that of course, is completely incomprehensiblle and should be, but then we battle, for the best nothing. For power, the mortal addiction that directs death and disease for supply chain. Why we want bucketloads of it, I will never understand. My feathers are pollen that died in the cold, the fire, the everything. But with each one I believe the best in us makes magic together. The worst makes power. To be helpless, beyond control and direction, is wildly frightening, why arent we pushing it into new learning worlds, instead of the mad pursuit of death. What next generation will be salvation if we are pointless seeds? And Agency, but we all have agency, it is tied to this ground that bore us, these hands beside around, the voices, the laughter tears and prose, that ours have a space on earth is vital, and blinding