Tell Me No More of Enchanted Days

  So, I've been watching 'Bridgerton' just because I needed a break. I sometimes watch absolute TV vanilla only because I don't really want to think, and just escape into something that doesn't challenge me.  But then I feel guilty about wasting my time on things that don't enrich me, so more than often, I will tandem view. Watch utter crap and try to watch something intelligent along with it, just because well, I'm a viewing masochist who tries too hard, even if it's watching the 'right' things. I started a documentary called 'Principles of Pleasure' along with 'Bridgerton'. It was nothing I didn't know. Stuff about women and their anatomy, shame, orgasms, with a little bit of socio political feminist commentary thrown in. All good so far. The problem happened in watching it along with 'Bridgerton' which is nothing but a fictional Victorian Jane Austen-ish multi cultural inclusive take on 'finding the right match&

  It sounded like  The tears of a gentle soul, Unable to hold it in, Any more. So she howled, As if to let it all just go. I looked around everywhere, To find her. But there was no one Crying; no one pleading, No one saying, 'Save me please'. It was just a false alarm. I sniffed in the air to catch  A whiff of destruction, Maybe a wire collapsing, And merging with another. Or the summer heat,  Causing mischief in its own way. A tired mind left the iron on, Only to realise it had really been on, For way too many hours now. Or kitchen dramas, when food, Isn't whisked away from the fire, Just on time. And now, my my, There goes our lunch, and  Our hands are shaking and out of control. But nothing. The air smelt Of dead afternoons, And sleeping libidos. It was just a false alarm. I looked downstairs, Then upstairs, then around, Anticipating fingers of smoke. Long, delicate, seducing, Patterns of nothingness, Pulling at heart strings, Slowly, carefully, to untie, Old knots and c

  Sleep tonight. With your arms  Wide open. The worst is over, And I know many  Nights have passed, Since you felt at ease. Tossing and turning, Waking up startled, As if your life would  Stop any second now. Scared of bitter truths and lies, Sugar coated in numbness. Sometimes drenched in sweat, Body aching for relief. Sometimes so cold, Panicking over things  So far beyond your control. But now it's all passed. Hush, my dear. Don't think, I would never  Get your message. I know how to read  Many languages. I know how to  calm  The fire dragon. Sing it a lullaby. Kiss its forehead  And whisper in its ears, Till he's drowsy and weak. I'm here now. I will hold your hand, Every night, Till you finally sleep. With the rise and fall Of my breath, You will conquer  Your fears.  Towards the sound  Of my beating heart, You can turn. You will find  It peaceful, You will find, All that you were, All that you are, All that you are going to be, In me.

  It could be a Hello, Or a Good Evening. Some small talk  Of holiday plans, Or unexpected rain. Maybe even some  Unexpressed views, Of how time flies, And life seems so short. So very short, that  One must now talk  Of futures rather than pasts, And accept rather  Than negotiate. But that's okay. We make friends, We break friends. And we crave for time, A delectable, rare  Dish so rarely on the menu. Then the sighs,   The laments. The tiring talk of could be's  And should be's. But no, my dear. Let's not get into all that. Let's make plans  Of better days to come. Because come they will. Life is a carousel, A go kart, a dodge em' car. Sometimes you sit and stay, Sometimes you stand up  And wave and walk away. The one who's left behind, Always stays longer in the ride, Than the one whose Token just expired. That's okay. This is not Goodbye. This is just, Let's discuss that, Next time we meet. Or I'd like to have  Some cold coffee. Would you like

  I met Munni Aunty today after a long time. Munni Aunty is this 85 year old wheelchair bound paralysed lady who stays in my building. I usually go over to her and hold her hands and talk to her, and though she can't speak, just mutter incoherently, she always recognises me. Today, her caretaker complained that Munni Aunty doesn't even inform about going to the loo anymore. I held her hands for a long time, and picked up on her energies. She was still young at heart, and her brain was sharp, even though her body had failed her.  I saw her past, young and vivacious, listening to songs on the radio and open heartedly giving love to everyone around her. When I asked her if she used to listen to Hindi film songs, her face lit up. Then she started crying. I tried to make sense of what she was saying, but couldn't. When her caretaker informed that her son doesn't visit her anymore, neither does he call, she cried some more. I kept holding her, telling her it's okay. It

  My left hand itches, To dive hard  Into cold concrete, Till my knuckles break, And my blood overflows, Emptying me of prana, That life giving force  I seem to have too much of. Prednisone, you fucking bitch! Halted my progress, Like a cow in the middle of the tracks. I could punch some faces today. Some I know who deserve To be beaten till they are pulp. I could kiss some faces today, Till their teeth fall out. Gang bangs and death, Sweet dreams are made of these. Who am I to spit or swallow? Sex and violence. And a sad little girl you killed. Why did you do that? You horrible, horrible people! Didn't you see she was fragile? Didn't you see she still tried? You liars! I always know the truth, Even before you can see it. Do you want me to tell you, What happens now? Do you want to know  If they send you to prison, Or to a mental facility? Hang on. Sorry, no sorry. I will be like you and conceal it. As for the girl,  You'll never see her again. You want to talk? You gotta d

 It's time. To enter the wormhole. Flip the switch. What was, will be. What should, will be too. Bottom is top, And top is bottom. Everything is the same. But not really the same. The universe is expanding. The start will be the end, And the end the start. Put your hand up. And touch the sky. Can you feel the surge  Of electricity? Of unlimited energy? This is the point it all changes. It's here. The doorway between  Then and now. Now and forever. And it will be opened. No matter  What you choose. The mirror image  Exists on both sides. The same. But not. One is the past. One the future. We are here. In between. Unaware  The first step has already been taken. Remember this moment. Mark the date. It's here. It's time.

 I I thought it would happen, Someday soon, but some day, Is not a day of the week. II  Your eyes say you love me. Your mouth gobbles up the words. And spews out non chalance instead. III  My heart holds my breath, Under a white pillow, While anxiety stabs it gently. IV  We have the same triggers. Afraid of loving too much. Unafraid of being hated for the same. ________x___________x_______________

  Pouncing ray to ray to through the dappled shadows, Light was pouring down upon the stepping-stones, It felt like morning coming for its throne, But I don't know why it looked like a tiger striped sky. Well, half the world was pulling on its colours, As night surrendered day to the hours, Glow was coming down, coming down, I don't know why but it felt like a tiger striped sky. Tell me why I'm underneath this tiger striped sky! Tired of seeing adventures on a café wall, I think I'll take a turn from the known road, I think I'll write a tale of my own, I'm going southbound to where the ocean's flirting with the coast. I'll be giving up my stripes, Be painting with new colours beginning with dove white! -Tiger Striped Sky, Roo Panes