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31 May 2011

Letter to Those Who Went

That day I wished for death
Because we were happy
I thought - I made you happy
And I thought what now? Death: a possibility

The call doesn’t come to me any more
Celebrations don’t take place any longer
Those who knew what was in my mind
without hearing a spoken word, have left me for good 

Because that day when I wished
I reached out to a conception that lay beyond
my comprehension and imagination
I feel now - it set events in motion

Now all that is left is me
like a lone survivor in an island in the middle of a sea
That day though I was not alone
I wonder now whether I’ll see you if I go where you’ve gone

25 May 2011

Our Conversation

Was it a good bye or an onward

march to the next level?

What did we speak about, exactly?

What was the conclusion?

Should I be happy that you love me

or sad that I failed yet again?

Where is the failure, you ask?

- in the inability to hold on to the sentiment

in the confusion whether the love is appropriate

in the thought that this is yet another tragedy

Now I am stabbing myself

to remember the times when I was unhappy

all the reasons for being sad

Memories buried deep within

are brought back to life

I shut myself from the world

on the pretext of sickness of body

I immerse myself in the material world

with paperwork and legal drudgery

It's my escape from the world of feeling

It’s my path to salvation - to establish

my meagre victory; while I gape at successes

of minds, while I continue to wish for illuminating

light which will be the rationale for this existence

19 May 2011

Sound of my Mind

The sound of the sleeping house
Ceiling fans inside, insects outside
Cats which meow and dogs which bark
on other days, are silent tonight

It is the sound of my sleeplessness;
conversations with myself; pulling
out chains of thoughts from my head
splitting and analysing without any conclusion

There is also the sound of passing hours
the lost time which follows a lost sleep;
I listen and probe and probe myself
for traces of stress and strain

I could hear the sound of whispering near my ears
of non-existent ghosts of bygone years
and of near ones who spoke to me a while ago
I resign to the sounds and in time fall asleep.