~Rantings of a Wandering Mind~

  “Life, my dear, is too short to regret…” The distant familiar voice echoed from the hollows of the intensive care unit, amidst the constant beeping of the machines that were supposed to keep me alive. I sighed….how futile everything seemed, now, that I was on the threshold of life and death. The wires held on to my fingers and wrists…like they could keep me tied to this place. I knew…my moment had arrived. I had always wondered how death feels like…how my last moments would be…and yet, in my last few moments, all I was left with…was regret. I wished…for one last time, to live the Life I had been blessed with…….and this time, I wanted to live, to die without regrets. What if……..I had the courage to speak out??? What if…..for once I had listened to myself??? What if……. The doctor’s warm touch over my left hand broke my reverie. Did he look hopeful about me???...could I find one last chance to live???...could death evade me for this one time, only to let me live and set things...

  I still remember the first time we had fought... A battle it was, Between a restless heart and a stubborn mind. And we fought... Just like those dark angry clouds, growling with rage Mad with anger...mad with pain. Mad with the betrayal, that never even existed, w e fought... Like the merciless monsoon rains. We fought.... Like we had never mattered to each other. We fought the war of wounded egos, We fought, to be proven right. We fought, Like we never cared. Like we were never scared of losing each other. Like love was just a word, so easy to erase, And letting go wouldn't break our hearts. We fought, like we wanted to end, Whatever we had, between you and me. I still remember the words, that we had shouted out loud, Not wanting to mean even one of them. I still remember the pain, That had stabbed us like glass knives... And the pride, that didn't even let us shed a tear. How silly it now seems, all of a sudden... That rainy day...those hurtful words, And the urge to win th...

Come back home, poetry, I've been waiting for you. For you, to complete my incomplete verses That keep me awake till the dawn. Come back home,  For the monsoons are here again, With the grey skies and the heavy clouds... Drenching me with an incoherent longing As I sit all alone. Watching the raindrops creating patterns on my window panes, My heart longs to create verses, once again, With those familiar epithets, that have long left me... Come back home, poetry, For I long to be loved, by Love, And for a beloved, whom I crave to behold... To love... To touch... Come back home, for I have letters to write and stories to tell Of dreams left broken and promises unkept... Of the scars that still bleed, and words left unsaid.... Come home, for my fingers crave to be carressed by you. My soul craves to be healed by your touch, And my heart craves to never let you go... Come home, poetry, for I feel so lost... Come back, and bring me home. Take me back to myself,  Where I had always ...

Running through the maze of Life Relentlessly chasing mirages Entangled, I choked, in silence Like a spider caught in its own web.  My exhausted soul craved to rest Somewhere, beside the boulevards of broken dreams. Where the oaks still played with the autumn breeze And dandelions whispered unspoken promises, Where the mosses were still green with life And the birds created their own songs... Lost, as I was, in the lanes of my own life My heart craved to find back The missing pieces of myself, Long lost....long forgotten.... The parts of my soul that I had long hidden, Behind all the smiles And all the scars. The 'myself' that I was,  That I longed to meet again After all the wars... The tears... The blood... My heart longed again, to be a poem, Amidst the cacophony and chaos That sucks me from within. I longed to be my favourite song Again....after all these days. Weary of wearing my wounds with pride, My heart craved to rest, if only for a while, Within the depths of myself,...

I had a garden, where little flowers bloomed. Where the breeze gently played with the blades of the grasses And butterflies danced, like there was no tomorrow. I had a garden, small, but mine. Where the dew drops glistened in the first light of the dawn, As the wild flowers woke up to the songs of the birds. I had a garden, the one of my dreams, That knew how the moon called me by my name And how the summer zephyr messed with my hair, Making me giggle, like a carefree teenager, Blissfully unaware of the dark clouds,  c onspiring at the horizon.  And then came the storm, with a thundering roar The darkness engulfing every bit of light that I had held on to. The birds left, as their nests gave away... And the butterflies shuddered in pain and fear. The flowers held on to their petals for one last time,  And the beautiful green boughs tried to be brave Before losing themselves forever. And my garden was no longer my dreamland It was wrecked and shattered... Like the ruins th...

What else, do I look for, O Krishna, Now, that I have You within my heart. Like the naughty little thief, that You are... You tiptoed Your way into my life, Stealing away my heart When I was least aware. Too busy to care, Too immersed in my worldly affairs, I could never know... I could never tell...  And then, You smiled at me, Like the moon smiles at the exhausted night, Healing every crack and crevice of my soul That I had hidden carefully from myself. Your eyes were the monsoon clouds, to my parched soul Thirsty... Tired... Craving to be caressed... Drenching me with Your love. Flooding me in Your light, You took away all the darkness that I had held on to. Scaring my inner demons to their salvation, You made Your place within parts of me,  Where I had dared not even peek.  Like the naughty little thief that You are, You stole away whatever I had Sometimes, with that smile... Sometimes, with those eyes... Sometimes, with those antics, that only You manage to come up w...