Ode to Colours

L: So what is the deeper meaning to the pretty colours?

S: Happiness.

L: I didn't expect such simplicity from you.

S: But it is simple. There's Happiness and then there's Black and White.

S: Black and White, 

     Light and Night.

     White Light.

     Black Night.

L: What?

S: Within him the Sun, red passion,

A burning soul, alive but ashen.

High and low, swinging sensation,

Her Moon, Dawn of his imagination.

                                                 

Quill in hand, he inks poetry,

Muse in mind, drunk and jittery.

Words, devoid of symphony,

Oh, a heartbreaking cacophony.                                                                                   

Love, dancing fire, singing river,

Flames and waves collide, over.

Rainbows, a monochrome appear,

Sunrise and moonset, each year.

Within him the Sun, in darkness,

Four seasons gone, fifth in sadness.

Day and night, two bodies seamless,

Her Moon, Dusk diamonds limitless.

Happiness.

L: I was right. Cannot expect simplicity from you.

Chasing in Circles

Circular or Linear? 

 "..Unless time and thoughts aren't really linear. And we're following a circular pattern. We're back to the beginning now. Circles and circles later, we'll be back again.", he said.

"Oh, I think I understand now. Shakespeare thinks so too, doesn't he? In his poem, Seven Ages of Man.", she said. 

"Last scene of all, 

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness.."

There is a child in each of us. There is a deep rooted desire to revisit the past, to relive our childhood and to grow up once again.. A desire to relish candy floss, ride on carousels and watch cartoons.

I decided to take the circular route to childhood and back. And on this journey, I made two pit stops which I reckon most of you will make with me..

The Wizard of Oz 

"Somewhere over the rainbow

Skies are blue,

And the dreams that you dare to dream

Really do come true"

And of course, 

The Sound of Music 

And on my way back, I take a little childhood with me. 

I take a little rainbow, I take a little music. 

And in 'second childishness' 

I rewrite -

They guzzled down bottles of rainbows,

The ebony violets to the ivory yellows.

The coloured crescent , an intoxication,

A figment of their own imagination.

They guzzled down bottles of melodies,

The seven syllables, Do re mi fa sol la tis.

The notes into silence, a transformation,

The music in their minds, an illusion.

Rainbows and melodies, bottle after bottle,

The victims of an unfathomable guzzle,

It rained in all hues and it rained no more,

The sun’s shining song, they sober.

Oh, it was a drunken love.

Go on, round and round in circles. Go on, and chase your childhood. 

                                   

Sans. On repeat.

              Summer break 2012. Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey - on repeat.

I'm feelin' electric tonight.

Summertime in York, monsoon in Mumbai. Let's runaway from reality and run towards romanticized monsoons. That's what poets and dreamers do, don't they? Poets are dreamers. Let's dream of poetry tonight. 

Rainy afternoons, steaming hot cappuccinos, soft jazz, great novels..


"It hasn't rained in a while", she said. "Your words are as dry as the soil. Your silence as piercing as the sun's scorching rays.
Shower your manuscript with ink. Drop after drop."

"Rain on me", she said.

And rain it did. And write I did. 

Lana Del Rey's voice, echoing in the rain,
And then the sun came out once again.

But, this time the lyrics are mine.
This time, it's -

Sans. On repeat. 

Raindrop. Drops.

More drops. Many drops.

Dropping down.

Pouring down.

Down on them. Deep down.

Drowning in the depths.

Depths of the moments.

More moments, like more drops.

Many moments and drops.

Pause.

Rewind.

Play.

Raindrops. Drops.

Lets fast forward the latter.

Pitter patter.

Pitter patter, mad hatter.

Oh, a rhyme. Rhythmic rain.

Rhythm and blues. 

Blue, one of many hues.

Many moments and drops.

Pause.

Rewind.                                                                                               

Aah, it’s a Repetition.

Aah! Epiphany. Synchrony.

Synchrony and harmony.

Drop. Drop. Drop.

Pitter patter. Thunder.

Lightening? They wonder.

Wonder… Fireworks?

Blue fireworks.

Violet, indigo, blue. Hues

A rainbow? Drops of rainbows?

Drops of rain.                                                                                                                 

Drops of sunshine.

Rain and sunshine.

Shine. Sparkle. Shimmer.

Alliteration, you beauty. 

Beauty in rhythmic rainbows.

Red, orange, yellows. 

Sun.

Rays pouring down.

Rays sans rain.

With or without.

Without him.

Her.

Sans.                                                                                                             

Repeat.

Mumbai monsoons, you are my muse. On repeat.