Footsteps and Love Notes

I stood on the sands, eyes fixed on the waves;
The sun was yet to rise, and the faint grey of the sky;
The sea changed its color as it moved towards the horizon,
And the breeze made ripples as on the petals of the flower,
Does a butterfly flutter by.

I looked calmly at the waves;
How silent the sea was beyond them, how peaceful;
The waves did not dare go that way;
They were childish, breaking free from the chains,
Rising up, only to fall down as they hit the almighty sands;
But the sea beyond the waves,
Looked calmly at us;
Never uttering a word, never stopping the waves.

I looked around me.
Men, women, boys, and girls, smiling at each other;
Walking hand in hand;
All eyes fixed to the east,
Where in a minute, the sky would give birth
To a red-hot goblet of fire.

Mynahs and crows, equally chirpy,
Perch on the sand, then fly away in a moment,
Then sit again, a bit far from the waters,
For they know where those go.

Four fishermen on the far east,
Push a boat into the waters;
Their methodical manner shows they’ve been at this for a while.
First one sits, right at the front;
And rows while the other three still push.
Then another jumps in, this time at the back,
And the other two on both sides,
Pushing and wading across a giant wave;
The next time I see them,
The four are all seated and in a lockstep fashion,
Have gone into the waters so deep,
That it looks like a speck of black in the farthest of the ocean.

The sun rises royally from amidst the clouds.
No later than that the hawkers come down to business.
A tea-seller comes around.
He pours some milk into a glass and walks towards the shore.
On the next wave, he drowns the entire milk,
And prays to the sea to bless his day.
He comes back and sees us waiting at his stall,
And thanks God for all He’s done.

Another wave crashes against the shore;
They are still grey where they hit the sand,
The wet sands, home to millions and millions of,
Footsteps and love notes.

I pause a while and listen to those around me,
Families talking about their daily chores,
Funny to see how people find happiness in the smallest of things.
As the sun now appears from within the clouds,
The sea changes its color too,
Glimmering a different shade of turquoise.

I sit on the sands, and look at the sea,
Building myself up for what is to come;
The breeze on my face;
It is warm and sultry around but the breeze is cold,
And makes me want to forget,
All the terrible things I think right now.
I see people sleeping on the sands,
They have made this their home,
Some old, some young,
They seem forlorn, forsaken;
I do not think they wanted this, but time brings changes,
And so they sleep here,
Void of a home, which they once had.

I get up slowly;
Walk past the sand castles,
Walk past the couples in love,
Walk past the mothers with their babies,
And walk into the water;
For I will fight the waves today.
Meanwhile,
The waves erase, from the wet sands,
The footsteps and love notes.

Winter is Coming

I sit outside in the balcony, sipping from my cup of tea. The slight tinge of ginger in it helps me stay awake. I see the sun, red as blood, uncover slowly at the eastern edge of the sky. It isn’t morning yet, but it will be, in a few minutes. I like this time of the day. It’s the time when the birds chirp and yet none fly out as yet, waiting patiently for the first ray to fall on their nests. The wind is chilly, I need a thick shawl, but I don’t want to go inside as yet.

In another hour, I’ll leave for work. Then it will be nine hours of tough grueling on codes written by big professionals out there, but right now my mind doesn’t want to think about that. I smell the air, a tinge of perfume of the girl in the next verandah, potatoes frying in oil, and gulmohur flowers. I imagine how life would have been if I had been a bird, flying at sunrise, returning at sunset. On a second thought, I kind of actually do the same, only I ride inside a bus instead of flying. People come out of their houses once a while, stretch and go back. Some dogs are awake on the streets, but they seem too lazy to bark, and they keep lying down anyways. I hear sounds of bells ringing. The pious lady in the adjacent house strictly observes an early-morning pray-time, and now I smell the incense sticks too. It seems as if the olfactory senses are the only ones alive inside my brain right now, and my fingers continue typing without realizing what I just finished writing.

Even though I try not to think much, my mind is clouded with lots of thoughts, which are really unsorted, and I make a mental note to sort them based on priority once I am ready to begin my day. I bring out another cup of tea, this time making sure I enjoy every sip, but it gets over, just like the one before. Winter is coming. I can feel it in my bones. It reminds me of Game of Thrones, of the Stark family, of the Red Wedding. Then it reminds me of Lady Stoneheart and I smile a silent smile when my devious mind tells me I should let out this spoiler to a friend of mine. But I dig it in, postponing it to a later time. The cycle of thoughts is a wondrous process, moving from one thing to another as swift as a deer, until you forget how the train started. The floor is cold, and I cannot put my feet down. I check my phone once a while, seeing if it’s time; I could as well put an alarm, but find it tiresome to do anything right now. Yesternight was good, we went to a pub. It has been over ten months since I last went to one, and my entire college life kept creeping inside me back and again all the while, until I left for home, my parents and the regular monotonous life that I lead.

And now it’s time to go. I need to take a shower and then get ready for work. So I’ll catch up later. Bye!

What Do You See?

When you look at the sea, what do you see?
Do you see how it wailed when people drowned in it,
Or do you see its smile when a kid splashed water on himself.
Do you see how it smiled when the sun rose above it,
And do you see how upset it was when the sky grew red this evening?

When you see me, what do you see?
Do you see a friend that cares, or one who pretends,
To hide the truth so he can mask himself in lies.
Do you see how much he loves you and cares not what others think,
Or do you see how blatantly he confesses it.
What do you see?