The Fire and The Smoke

Tried coming up with some smart rhyme and embarrassed myself – yet again. I guess I have lost all sense of poetry for that matter. Maybe I should stick to just puking my words on this little journal which perhaps no one else reads, but for the friends I call up and ask (when it matters).

When it is silent outside there are a few things I can hear clearly. One, the ticking of the clock on the wall over my desk and second the sound of the crackling burning wood inside my head. It is strange when I think about it. The head plays its part in inundating the heart with emotions and at the same time fills my being with emptiness. The fire rises but often there’s no smoke that can escape from any open windows.

The life is a room where I checked in, few years ago. I guess there is a story which belongs to this room – a story which is different from mine. Maybe someone hanged himself from the ceiling in this room, maybe some one gave birth to a kid on the floor here, I can’t tell. The room just stares back, doesn’t really answer my questions.

What would you do if you discovered one day that the place you have been calling yours has a story which you did not know all this long? Hmm…kind of “Dhobi Ghat” like. Go watch the movie if you haven’t done so as yet. I know there have been mixed reactions to it. Only very few have sat through it till the end and it is only those few perhaps who have actually liked the Kiran Rao attempt. I guess, you just need to separate the movie from Aamir Khan and then it somehow feels right. Am not promoting it though – go figure out yourself.

Coming back to the fire and the smoke, the eyes are not holding out too bright these days. The vision fails after a distance and there is some sort of unnerving but silent commotion. There are no reasons though – just a vague feeling of being entrapped. Don’t know how much more abstract can I be. Will there be an opening? Will someone come looking? Would I be found breathing or will only the carcass be discovered? Who knows….

It’s a sorry state of affairs if I look at it like that. I know I am all vague now and you must be wondering why did you choose to read it at all? Sigh…

Enough said I guess…I shall return to my tomb for now. Come back later, when you feel a little more strongly for me. Come back when lust overshadows your sensibilities and no reasons are needed; come back when you are tired and weathered out and have no one else to go to. Maybe I shall meet you then and we can have a small chat sitting here by the grave, soaking ourselves in the rain.