I'll Be a Friend, Tomorrow

Maybe when banging doors and loud voices
Would not drain the colour in me,
I'll be a friend, tomorrow.
I'll tell you that it hurts, when you
Talk to me, behind me, about me-
And that, I drag my thumbnail across
My fingers when I'm nervous.

Maybe when you ask for me to celebrate
And paint the town red, I would nod.
I'll be a friend, tomorrow.
I'll tell you that I spend nights under
Dark grey skies, counting absent stars
And that, the salty brine that sweep about
My face aren't just sweat from the dancing.

Maybe if you hold my hand and smile
And return my colours to me,
I'll be a friend, tomorrow.
I'll tell you stories of your greatness that
I proclaim to others, about dreams-
Of us, hair blowing in pleasant breezes
And my face, prouder to just be there.

And in this fog of emboldened words and-
Premature actions, I'll still tell you,
I'll look up as you stand atop conquered hills
You mount corpses of men and animals alike-
I'll be a friend, tomorrow. 

Etcetra

There, now hold the black crayon
And draw a hackneyed gun, next to that boy
Good. And once you're done, little one
Pass it on to little Saira, she needs it
To cover her woman with the burqaah etcetra.

Oh, do not mind, do not mind.
It is just school, haha. I am the teacher.
We teach our students excellent things.
Only last month, one of our students
Finished the red chalk on the board,
Squeaking till the last bit, till he turned and
He said, "Finished." It was a good picture.
He made blood and acid etcetra.

We teach Maths also. Haha, not to girls.
Girls, we teach embroidery, womanly things.
Not Math, numbers are manly. They can't
Wrap their head around that, it doesn't help serve
Their husbands, and if they have to learn hisaab.
Their husbands teach, to sit at the shops etcetra.

Oh yes. We take care of your children. Sex. No no.
We do not talk of bad things. We talk of marriage.
Rape? No no. That is marriage only. No? Oh.
It is alright. You will be happy to know we teach
The girls dressing. We teach them to plead.
On the knees. That helps in rape. But we do not
Teach bad words such as sex.
Against tehzeeb etcetra.

So welcome to the school? Branch? So many. Haha.
India also. Pakistan also. Etcetra.

I PROMISE I WILL FINISH THE NOVEL THIS YEAR. AT LEAST THE INITIAL DRAFT. SO MANY IDEAS BUT MUST WRITE ON PAPER. Rant over. Kthxbye.

This is for You.

You, of the auburn hair
And the sordid brain-
And that little emboldened self
That hid behind so many masks
Of beauty and desire-
Of love and lies-
Of femininity and feminism.

Tell me- just this much-
Do our rum-soaked evenings
Full of laughter laced with ululating
Lullabies ever come to you
Lulling you in the selfsame labourless sleep?
And when sitting at the curb of the river
Of unhappiness, do you still feel a gentle pull
A tug, away from the despair?

And when he did whatever he did with
The conative phallus destroying your cognition
Does it also penetrate your interiors, upsetting
The ambience within? Still?
Won't there be a little space for me in those
Devastated nooks, where I can sit and echo
Into your insides, the azaan that you liked so well.

Or is it that, I also recall in the sunrise-
Or the sunset, is it, only a golden dash of yourself?
When all the murk, that flows down your body,
Bending upon your groin, only seems to scintillate to me?
And when I try to remember your name,  have I lost it
Somewhere, between a thought, and a memory?

Free Falling - Tom Petty (Cover by John Mayer)

One song that I always go to. Speaks to me, this song. I really wish I could say more.

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=20Ov0cDPZy8

She's a good girl, loves her mama
Loves Jesus and America too
She's a good girl, crazy 'bout Elvis
She loves horses and her boyfriend too, yeah yeah

And it's a long day livin' in Reseda
There's a freeway runnin' through the yard
I'm a bad boy 'cause I don't even miss her
I'm a bad boy for breakin' her heart

And I'm free, free fallin', fallin
And I'm free, free fallin', fallin

All the vampires walkin' through the valley
They move west down Ventura Boulevard
And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows
And the good girls are home with broken hearts

And Im free, free fallin', fallin
Now Im free, free fallin', fallin

Free fallin', now I'm free fallin
Now I'm free fallin, now I'm free fallin
Now I'm free fallin, now I'm free fallin
Now I'm free fallin, now I'm free fallin

I wanna glide down over Mulholland
I wanna write her, her name in the sky
I'm wanna free fall out into nothin'
Oh, Im gonna leave this, this world for a while

Now Im free, free fallin', fallin
Now Im free, free fallin', fallin
Now Im free, free fallin', fallin
Now Im free, free fallin', fallin

Free fallin, fallin
Free fallin, fallin
Free fallin, fallin

Still

The charred pieces lay amidst the grey-black ash,
As the darkness engulfs even the smallest of embers
And as I dust my piano, closed for a year,
The yellowed ivory feels foreign to my skin.

Foreign, as your touch on the small of my back
When we made frigid love in cold environs
And I sit in front of my piano, telling myself
That I can play, as the music escapes me.

Little by little, I feel the warm embalming of tears
Leave my eyes, and heal the diseased keys.
I close my piano then, only for the vision of a new sun
That'll leave, as the day is gone, and I'll set another
Page of my written symphonies to fire.

Night after night.
I'll remember you, still.

Strive to Hide

In the faint glow of the moonlight

That entered through the cracked panes

Of her KJ Marg abode, she saw a golden

Square sachet open that night- and she

Cried in agony as the bed squeaked under

Both of their weight. And when the phallus

Had retreated into its leathery loneliness-

She quietly looked at the chipped ceiling

While hearing his deep snores by her side.

In the faint glow of the moonlight 

That entered through the cracked panes

Of her KJ Marg abode, he was glad that

That her screams muffled his inner voices

The bed squeaked, after he directed the 

Condom packet away from himself, lest

Anybody saw the tear tracks down his face.

And once, a little too soon, he was done, 

In his dreams, he silently met his dead bride.

In the faint glow of the moonlight 

That entered through the cracked panes

Of her KJ Marg abode, she saw the two 

Writhing in deep sombre lust- And she saw the 

Golden glow of the sachet on the wall, smiled

And counted the cash again as she walked away 

To scuffle to another room, another person

Until someone rang a bell, and the Vulture

Swooped with a smile, the entire night.

In the faint glow of the moonlight

That entered through the cracked panes

Of her KJ Marg abode, alas, a lot was dark still.

And in the darkness, and the golden hues

Off packs of condoms and in the dizzying fog

Of cigarettes, alcohol and misunderstanding, 

People walked past, heads buried with shame

Deep wrinkles of disgust and desire,

Everything that they strive to hide.