Coloured Cosmos

She was raised on white, all pervasive, predominant, disciplined white. If she made a mess, clumsy as she was, it exposed itself outrageously on her ablescent backdrop. What a pity ! She used to muse on the whites of her kins, was it impeccable? It seemed to her that it was; Or was it that theirs was of a distinct hue? She was burdened with guilt, a dark shade of grey was ingrained in her morassy white life. Bullied and betrayed by the so-called connoisseurs or bigots of whites, mocked her defiled life, her lowered spirits, her internal monologues. Brown, grey, mixed in the pool of white. 


Blue was her fortunate discovery, it empowered her, her absolute love and support was Blue ! Dark, regal, calm, composed, powerful blue. How it coloured her white, turning the grey and brown to Blue, Blue, Blue. Never leaving her side, her constant stronghold, her profound Azure! Ah ! She was ecstatic with joy and imbued with peace, no judgements, or bullying hurt her, she loved herself, she loved her Azure, and a vow of eternal kinship was made. She was free of the colourful society, living and enjoying it’s colours, but never letting it emblazon her. 

It was a certain pink in the air, with a tinge of yellow, gold, breezy blue, when Red became her secret colour, seeping deep and thick through her, pleasurable, exciting, throbbing, murderous, monumental, life changing, ambiguous Red. She lost her days and her nights, her body and her mind, and Blue was witnessing a sinful sight. Alas! It was a bewitching plight. Only blue had known, the whites of her childhood disciplinarians would at times catch a reflection of the Scarlet, the Threatening carmine, on their whites, fearing a rebellion, which was taking shape, revolution and revolt. Hers was an elusive one, satiating her, and in turn, making the fascistic autocrats fear anarchy. She laughed a drunken laugh, drunk on red, hot, sultry, smothering, seductive red. She was colourful for Red. Blue was in the backdrop, protecting the white that was left, for her well-being. She had ridden Black. Dark . Darker. Darkest. She was far away from pastel shades. Red had given her black, red took it away, it turned into a pastel pink. She was anxious, hysterical, it cannot be! Red was gradually fading, turning pink for her, although only through her vision; red was the same. 

She realised that pink is her weakness, she coloured pink so dark, that it became red again. Red was always her secret. It still lingered around her, on uncertain occasions, in dark alleyways, on revolutionary roads, in anarchy, in love, in outcasts, in Bohemians, in carnality, in secrecy, in writings, in poetry, in physicality and in depths of amour. 

She had epiphanies, she was tired, it was a wild ride, and blue was her refuge, all through this, her mentor, her pristine love.

Today, growing through all these colours and with them, she lies, envisioning the hues, that will colourise her life so unfathomably in the future, that these constant companions, white of her upbringing and red of her heart might fade into a crystalline rainbow, but blue was, is and shall be with her forever.

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Awakened answers



Story of the obsessed-

Burn this altar, wherein your soul resides!

Let’s summon that fervent height.

Still in life, the mind captures transience,

Assassinate these overtures, wistfully.

The past is equally delightful and equally non existent

The colourless decorations of life are often, brighter at heart

The mirror stained with brine, now refuses to shine

Every tool to brighten it, resigns

All the monotony on one table

“Decorated with freedom.”

One of the conflicts being a human- the dependence on independence

Hold it, it’s precious,

Hope, faith, miracles.

Brush The Chaos


​There’s a breath of laughable death, a whore’s delight;

Spiritually wanton,

It stays in the eyes,

the expression of the dead.

Pixie dust is powdered 

listlessly, to charm

the heart of magic.

Attaining the kinetic heights, unwrapping the sequined kismet;

Streaming bulwarks demolished to hold a sylvan lake occult,

Cessation of hostilities, creation of art…

To the unselfishly primal one, montage of carnal hues.

Silver memories, rise on silent sighs…

The law of the land says,

Tramps cannot kiss the misty mouths of creators seeking silken solace;

Where the sages loved the divine, amongst words decoded by the lover’s precence.

Mists of trysts which evanesce through me, are imbued again;

The hazy nights follow a resilient meal

Decode the script?

Amnesia 


They come from an ever resounding hollow,

The memories with voices.

It echoes my words, like a self talk;

Were you a dream?

I lived in that hazy daze.

Your gaze is affixed on my screen,

Your words stifled mid air, thoughts which you suppressed;

Did you love too much?

You, who were always afraid of it;

Broken shards of shuddering heart, it’s windswept fragrance emanates,

From a time within me that’s still,

Still, in the ephemeral mos we spent.

Too less.

Too less.

Longing is useless,

For a daunting you.

There are voices and odours about me, you present yourself in unexpected places;

I travel again, revive with those remnants which you bestowed,

To keep me entranced.

My flesh was enough , but I gave away more.

Now that farewell is in order;

Amnesia has its own delights.

Picture of Pandora’s power

Through autumn in spring,

Blossoming with ambivalent conclusions,

She burnt with words, abysmal.

Drab immortality broken amongst leaves,

Words destructed, words resuscitated.

Disciple of the psychedelic cult,

Au Naturel.

Remanents of a bordello’s bride;

The ever resounding yell, of uncanny spaces, lost in ephemera.

Lessons learnt on broken strings,

I rip you from my trenches;

And flood in my routine.

The wave of my expressions overwhelm me

They will drown you as well.

Strikes and streams


​I lied for you.

You lied for her.

I still miss the palm 

Which though held me ,held in frivolity.

Frigidity ungratified, losing of lust in reticent thrusts.

The giver dug a vacuum in her.

Which he couldn’t satiate,

The wood was carved, dented with blame.

All force awry.

All passion fade.

The end but says,

No one was laid.

Courtesan’s carousel


A Series of perforations-

Ears.

Nose.

Cunt.

Heart.

I emit you.

The flavour of your kiss, embeds itself in an unknown space and time.

I surmise,

Your love through it.

It Exists…

In the dark hour.

I recline, you reach me through your mental lips.

This but be my hearse.

May it be to you, your provenance.

Hollow kisses.

Fruitless ties.

Empty love.

Vacuous sight.

There’s a flower in me which withers at your name,

It blossomed in the past.

Untouched naiveté

The felicity in a demise, darling it’s price.

And I woke up to strength, and beauty.

The other light;

After that brine-full night.

If love were to come, it would come aright.

And won’t play along with the heart in spite.

Thank you for the awakening, within.

That love is all mine.

It belongs to me

And, I deserve the best in this life.