A Brighter Color

I sit in a dark room, silence all around,
No one knows the pain deep within,
I have kept it to myself,
Not wanting you to know,
For fear of troubling you,
With my baseless fears.
I fear, and do you know that?
I fear, that I might lose you again,
For my life has for sheer luck,
Given me another chance to be with you.
But the rose that had withered off,
The black rose that you’d last seen,
It’s still the same,
And will be, forever.

For love you I not anymore,
But I cannot ignore you either,
Such is the trauma in the lives of lovers,
Who can think all they wish,
That they have moved on,
Yet only a sentence,
Or sometimes only a song,
Is enough to rekindle,
All that was lost,
And much is not lost,
For you are still there, and so am I.

But let bygones be bygones,
Let a new rose bloom,
Let us let luck decide its color,
For when the night is blue,
And full of stars,
When we’d be drinking,
To wash away our scars,
We’d probably lie in one another’s arms,
For you are still there, and so am I.

I sit in a dark room, silence all around,
But will you fill it,
With lights and noise?
I hear clamors, yet only in my mind,
And the light through the windows,
Come warily at those times,
When I think of you the most,
And light my lap,
Does that ring a bell?

For now I must stop,
Yet I pray you, come back,
Forget what can yet be forgotten,
And let us turn our lives,
Into a merry affair,
For when all is said and done,
The black rose will still be,
Hidden in a pocket deep somewhere,
Wishing it met another of its kind,
Only a brighter color.


The dark of the sky has not yet gone,
The sun has not yet gleamed with joy,
The clouds have not yet tired of hiding,
The moon behind them, where it lazily sleeps.
The stars don’t blink, they stand still today,
And all around there’s an eerie silence,
Not a sound of man, nor bird nor dog,
Only the whispers of ghosts prevail.
They whisper to each other in creaks of windows,
In the rustle of leaves, in the whoosh of the wind,
And when all is said and done,
When the morning will come again,
They’ll go back to sleep,
And no one will believe me when I tell them,
I heard the ghosts around me yesternight again.

#2 – The Broken Branch

The village on the side of the road, ‘was’ a village. Now its houses burned and smoke clouded rows of huts. The picture suddenly started coming back into his mind. Burning huts, fleeing people, dying cattle, and the broken, all suddenly flashed through his mind. What a death that was! The man jumped from the bridge into the river and was never to be seen. His head bubbled up once, but no one could say if he was alive or dead. The dog that chased him all the way until he jumped cried in pain and nature kicked it on its face. No one could comprehend why this was happening.

Walking on the road, Uddin wondered whether this was all a dream or actually true. Indeed it was true. Wasn’t it true that the old woman who sat till yesterday at the corner of the road and asked for money died today when she was beaten up for doing so? A tooth was still there on the corner of the street. The broken branches were still lying on the ground, crying in pain of being separated from their mother, yet wasn’t the sweeper giving them all the more pain by taking them yet far? He kept walking. For the first time, he couldn’t figure out what was happening around him. He was in a dilemma, an unexplainable one, an unexplored one.

The black guy was surrounded by the white boys in the middle of the road. He was lying on the ground crying for help, yet all around just smiled and passed by. Probably that is what everyone is supposed to do, Uddin thought, and so he left the boy to his pain, and went off. Not once did he cry or look up for help. Far at the end of the road, a shop was put on fire. The shopkeeper was still inside and he could not come out. The flames engulfed the shops around, as the grocer spilled all the oil when his feet slipped. God knows what happened to him after that. Questions entangled him, and answers were nowhere. Where would he search for them?

Was the end of this world, and was it just the beginning of a new world? A new beginning, a fresh start. What had happened to him? He felt dizzy, or was the world going round about him? For a moment, he couldn’t say if it were night or if the sun only refused to come up into the skies? Who would give him the answers? Silence followed, as always. Silence, that had always been his companion, had now sought to make the entire world its friends. Everyone was silent. No one talked. It felt as if he lived in a world of dumb people. Dumb, deaf and blind.

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How It Changed Entirely

This is a sequel to Nothing Has Changed.

It is true that you change,
When people around you do,
Or else I wouldn’t be writing this today.
It is true that you change,
When I am absent,
Or else I wouldn’t be writing this today.
For coming back and starting,
From the point you left off,
Is never the same as not leaving at all.

You understood my eyes,
What they meant without speaking,
Now you can’t hear me,
Tell me, who changed?
You smiled at silly jokes,
Now you mock me with others,
Say I am stupid,
Why, who changed?

Goodbyes were meant to be happy,
Yet this time it isn’t,
I am sad and I’m upset,
But you wouldn’t know,
You are busy there, out with new ones,
And like old newspapers I’m trashed in a can,
Know that I’m sad to see,
How it changed entirely.

The Artist

We were in an alley, it wasn’t that dark,
And suddenly you turned into a bat,
And showed me the way out of it into the darkness.
I, the wolf, looking for prey,
Sniffing into the darkness, smelling blood all the way.
I looked up at the sky, the starry night,
And suddenly it was the roof of my room.
You were sleeping by my side, your hair twixt my fingers,
The warmth of your breath, the fragrance of your skin.

I woke up and as I put my feet on the floor,
It crumbled into air and I was falling,
Falling down, down, down and I felt dizzy.
Then I don’t remember what happened next,
But when I woke, I was on a field,
The grass was green,
A meadow of yellow flowers,
I seeped my toes beneath the soil to feel the cold,
And felt something rising up my shin.
It was you, only you were very tiny,
I picked you up in my hands, you smiled at me.
Then suddenly you were large,
Just like me.

We ran and we ran, until we lost our breath,
Then we stood, looking into each other’s eyes,
Smiled a shy smile, and your eyes closed,
As I heard your breath again, only for moments.
Then the ground drifted, and we started moving apart,
We were back in the art studio.
I painted you in red,
You painted me in yellow.

Between the Two of Us

Making friends with darkness wasn’t as easy as I thought,
Night after night I spent helplessly with it,
And though loneliness supported me all throughout,
Darkness didn’t consider me quite for her fit,
Reminded me of all the times when I’d left it,
Alone in a corner and stayed with things bright,
For then I was different, quite different from today,
For then what I did, it was always right.
Between the two of us, I have said this,
To a thousand others and they’ve felt the same,
They’ve told me how right I was and how wrong I am,
To think loving darkness was an easy game.
But I know you want me, embraced in your shawl,
A shawl under which darker things do smile,
And I know with you I can be what I am,
For all’s a game, this world’s a wile.
Brightness, you’ve been good to me,
Like a friend in need, a friend indeed,
But now we’d better separate our ways,
For your eyes must be closed to each of my deed,
And I promise once I return, I’ll be better than before,
The dark would make me stronger I know,
Wait for me outside this door where you are,
And we’ll travel soon through high and low.

He’s Not Me

The one who sits with you by day,
Promises happiness wild and gay,
Says he’d bring the moon for you,
Where there’d be room for two,
He who says he loves you,
More than anyone else can ever,
And that the day he forgets you,
That day in his life would come never,
The one whom you kissed on the forehead,
When he was sad and wanted to die,
He’s not me.
I am the evil that you haven’t seen,
The star which shines on dark things light,
He who kills with his eyes painfully,
He’s me.
The one who promises to live with you,
Only to stab you behind your back,
To kiss you on your lips with his poisoned ones,
He’s me.
The one who said he’ll die for you,
Yet knows he’d kill you when needed,
Who shows you a smile and is full of wrath,
He’s me.
The one you love and the one you think of,
The one who never ever thought about you,
He’s me.