I had a dream last night You were in it Fuzzy, unclear But the hook was there That had plucked you from somewhere Inside my head or maybe From some deserted place in my heart It wasn’t an act Of which I was aware I had no say In the furtive way You appeared around me again Even if you were phantasmic, chimerical In that time, you were real A swaying, decaying bridge coupling The physical and the figmental
It left a bitter aftertaste In my mouth when I awoke I brushed my teeth With renewed vitality (My dentist would be happy at least) I spent the day going over the locks I had put around certain memories These escapes Even in my dreams Made me restless, agitated me When I was awake Tonight I will have my dose Of vitamins and minerals (They promise all sorts of well-being) So that when I dream The bolted doors inside of me Keep holding their integrity
But even if they lose their might Releasing spectres of the night I know that in my waking hours In dissecting and determining The cryptic whys and wherefores Of night-garish visages Invading, distressing me These dreams, these unbidden images Have already lost their sting They have shed their whipping wings To fly at me when I’m asleep Through all of my monster-proofing And so deep down inside Something tells me that tonight I will dream of other things.
Life is like a box of chocolates Someone once said Sometimes you get The caramel-drenched centres That melt in the mouth Like liquid satin, swishing on your tongue In silky, sweet tones Caressing your taste buds until Languidly, unhurriedly They lavish one last nectarous kiss Before disappearing In ambrosial bliss Down the tunnel of your throat
At others it’s the bitterness of a centre That’s dark - 90% cacao That unleashes on your tongue Spearing, laughing, spearing again Inflicting a bitter-sweet pain Just enough for you to stop and think To wonder if this is good A revelation Of taste, an experience That’s bold, distinct To recall, to remember when You’re short on inspiration Or whether in fact It is an assault no less On the mundaneness The safeness On your everydayness Plodding on your tongue Like a thug that’s sold His essence, his soul To the gods of gastronomic Absurdity and virulence
I look back, the rhyme is longer For the bitterness that lingers In the mouth; but I have also realized That my taste buds have conspired With my mind to bind Most of the time To memories that are wholesome Sugared, caramelised So even when I pick A chocolate from life’s mix I hope for the sweetness The toffiness, the bliss But I also sit in readiness For the wave of bitterness That sometimes takes me in its grip But always itinerant Shifting, moving on And so I too go on Savouring Every piece, never wavering From the cholocate box of life.
You Are Too different Too controversial Too weird Too quiet Too absent
You Are Too passionate Too frigid Too pushy Too gregarious Too reserved
You Are Too opinionated Too invested Too indifferent, disinterested
You Are Too much but You Are Also not enough
These arrows used to fly East and west Between the bazaars and the mosques Down and up From my beating heart To my silent mouth, forging Right angles containing me In burnished boxes glittering bright But in the moorings Of all these paradoxes writhing out Like strident dirges from treacherous lyres Howling of brimstone and hellfire Now I hear only one thing I only hear that one constant thing
YOU ARE!
In the refrains that ring Thunder and break I hear it sing:
YOU ARE!
In all that cacophony In the clarion calls of propriety Pounding, rounding endlessly From the steeples of society That is all I ever hear now
🌸 YOU ARE! 🌸 YOU ARE! 🌸 YOU ARE! 🌸
Yes I am! I finally am! This is me And that is all I ever need to be.
Outside in the garden There’s a Passion flower vine Its little green tendrils Have curled here and there Where the shoots are fullest Lushest, most verdant They burgeon and grow Weaving circles of rapture Until they’ve spun around Seven times Lighting up the chakras of life And then just like that Their work done Of dancing in the sun They fall
Inside the house There’s a woman Her hair Is tied up in a bun She’s on the run With little tendrils escaping At the nape of her neck She’s rushing upstairs There’s a toddler emergency And then she races like the wind Into the kitchen To make breakfast And then she’s on the run again Appointments, to-do lists, errands To complete And then back to cook and clean To feed and coddle, kiss a bruised knee
The hours weave their set design Finite, regimented, organized But she has no sense Of its texture or lines The day is done and finally She sits down for a while Soft tendrils forming At the nape - one, two, three I hold my breath I count the whorls in the curls The longest one has six I look away A little thought flits up to me Unexpectedly, a sign Whispering secrets I don’t want to hear Of endings on the whorl-bearing vine
She smiles at me tiredly I wish, I wish fervently That the curls that gather Loosely around her neck Is just hair soaked in sweat In the labour of love I pray, I pray silently Into the depths of whatever’s out there God, the universe, ethereal energy For the moisture laden curls to weave Their mystical circles for a few more years Until they attest To a life well-lived, joyfully Until they wear their silver-grey majesty Before they finally Unspool in eternal rest.
I was lost I took the path Less trodden, I tossed Away the ease Of normalcy I walked away Off the street that carried feet Teeming, streaming busily Easily, its metalled gray Smooth and safe, predictable
I’d felt strong, invincible I walked away Aimlessly, Trail-lessly, No signs, no familiarity I walked I walked Directionless, solitary On and on I walked and walked Until doubts and insecurities Snaked hoary tendrils around me But I walked on until my feet Were bruised and cut Until they bled Until I wept
================================ Until I had forged a road ahead ==================================
It now lies cleaved and gravelly With little grooves Once stained with blood And squelching mud Filled up With wild flowers now Sun dappled through shady boughs The path ahead of me Now gleams with its own lambency
I was lost I left the path oft-trodden, I crossed Into uncharted territory Where the wilderness roamed free Accompanied by the gleam of stars And the warmth of cherished dreams There I carved my own way Hope-hewn, Grit-laden, Endlessly It now stretches out in front of me.
There’s a girl in the sunset Her hair is ablaze Her dupatta streams In the arid breeze I can’t see her face I catch my breath She stands there still So still I see the horizon seethe and rage Scorch her in its red-hot rampage I close my eyes I’m afraid to look Afraid to see the heavens burn Afraid to see the ashes blown Of the girl that is standing there alone
But then
My stinging eyelids fly open, I see She’s still there She looks back at me The blaze of the sun Now a shimmering red Halo around her head Like a crown She won’t go down When her world careens When her world burns all around Grey smoke rising from the sea Of charred, asphyxiated dreams She stands there serene She gathers the light around her being She smiles, she gleams She is the fire queen.
Dappled sunlight Upon my skin Warm, streaming motes Kiss my neck My arms, my face Whispering sweet nothings Caressing, comforting My shoulders drop The weight of the world That sits on them Like twin rocks I’m no longer Atlas Holding up the sky Shivering In its storminess Legs quivering Under its burden of sighs And tears and loss For now It has all melted away The coldness, the heaviness, the grey For now There is only a quiet joy A rainbow sprinkling Of dappled sunlight Upon my skin Thawing me, warming me From within.
Do you sometimes ask yourself if you’re alright Do the burdens of life come down hard on your joy Do all the schemes of gladness that you deploy Seem bound to falter, sink with the sun Making you despair, come undone Do you sometimes wonder if you’ll ever be alright?
Do you sometimes worry if you’re alright If you’re treating your body like it was meant More like a temple, less like a tent Does it respond with resilience and grace Does it show up as a gentle glow on your face Can you smile and say that you’re alright?
Do you sometimes brood about being alright If the crimson, beating, streaming path From your analysing mind to your ruminating heart Is clear and bright and lit up with calm Where thoughts and memories are like comforting balm Do you feel your spirit lift because you’re alright?
Do you feel your atoms dance, your heart sing Then soften to a gentle, constant hum again Do you feel your blood flow in passionate storms And then settle into tranquil crests and falls Do you sometimes in your moments of quiet Feel a gratitude because you’re alright?
I hope that when you lie in your bed at night On the cusp of sleep, with your guard down When your truth shines unfettered, unbound That with your eyes closed you can look within And hear it in every fibre of your being I’m alive, I’m still here, I am alright.
It was two for tea and tea for two Both meeting after a decade or two Friends of old, kins of the heart Separated by time and circumstance Chatter and laugh over tea for two
Tea for two and two for tea Neighbours for a year, kindred souls for twenty-three They’d seen each other through thick and thin Loving Kintsugi* mending walls where they’d grown thin Catch up over two for tea
It was two for tea and tea for two From working together their friendship grew They had rejoiced in one another’s highs And had held each other’s hands in trying times Rendezvous over tea for two
Tea for two and two for tea The sister and the brother sit quietly The coolness of bruised hearts lies around The air is rent with empty sounds As they try to build bridges over two for tea
It is usually two for tea and tea for two That brings hearts together, both the sunny and the blue Loving ones forge more joyful memories Aching ones for a while find some peace When they come together over tea for two.
* Kintsugi: The Japanese art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold — built on the idea that in embracing flaws and imperfections, you can create an even stronger, more beautiful piece of art.
Mahvash Mohtadullah - The Roaming Desi 