Showing posts with label Despair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Despair. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 10, 2020

Ruffled Hair

Ruffled hair
unkempt shirt
holed shorts
sockless and
unlaced shoes
He walked
to school
looking down
staying invisible
Furtive glances
playing hide and seek
through piercing eyes
he makes his way
to his
daily torture.

A moment
longer
he awaits
becoming steely
sighing with
resignation
he enters
the rusted gate.

Whispers
become
full blown
laughter
as crowds
circle his
small frame.

Poking sticks
and furling stones
greet him
to this
temple of learning

Not one
touching him
disgusted as they are
by his unkempt being
and smelly
unbathed body
Holding noses
with
disgruntled noises
poke they do
and run as fast.

The brave ones
kicking him
around.
Quietly, he endures
It's momentary
right?
Not knowing
the trauma
has made
home
deep in his
body
for a
lifetime to come.

An invisible
corner
in a dingy room
he seeks
at best
hoping.

In he walks,
purposeful
Cane in tow
with
starched white
and pleated blacks
Shoes as
clean as new
and hair
gelled
nicely
into place.

Scans he
with disdain
his proteges
who await
in fearful silence
for their inevitable
turn.

Its always him,
sharp eyes
make the silhouette
of his
hidden frame
a glee
shone in his eyes.

Ram he roars!
sending shivers
down the
entire herd
his voice
booming
the cane plush
ready to fulfil
its master's bidding.

Not again,
groans Ram
Why do I
even try,
he walks
dragging his
unkempt being.

A swish
cuts through 
the still air
splitting skin 
in abused palms
Yet
another day
in paradise.

Feeling
exceptionally
generous
he demands
for parted cheeks
in between naked legs
Another swish
cuts the pregnant
air
tearing through
dark pink skin
in gleeful joy.

Ram holds
willing
himself,
'not for him
a single tear.'
Again and again
the master goes,
splitting cheeks
to expose bone
and broken spirit.

A silent tear
the class bully
too drops
as he
watches
this dance
of terror.

a gloomy day 
ensues
in dingy corridors
of broken walls
wailing
the loss of childhood
for yet 
another day.

Not one
ruffles his
hair
no more
staying away
from his smelly
unkempt being,
bloodied body
and
broken spirit.

Never again,
he promises
as he takes
his last step
out of the
hallowed
gates
of this
temple of ruin.

Years later,
as he brutalizes
his nth victim,
with swishes
of bloodied cane
robbed
years ago
from a soulless
master.

Long forgotten
his own
body scars
for they
have seeped
deep in his soul
showing him
the ways of
world
and
he in it.

His hair
stays ruffled
stays
forever ruffled!

Sunday, March 17, 2019

A Walk Home


Clear blue skies
sneaking in through
a canopy of gulmohurs
summer temperatures
cooling in twilight
seemed like a walk
I would remember

A man lay
motionless
in muck and water
dead or drunk
I wish not enquire
passed him by
not wanting to
break my reverie
of a pleasant walk home

Paused
a moment longer
what if
pushed the thought away
walking

A man
relieving himself
further ahead
Darkening a wall
well abused before
flashing his member
in nonchalant entitlement

A man spat
on a tree trunk
owning it
not noticing
the Giant cringe
in hapless subdue

Revelers ahead
snacking with abandon
against uncollected
garbage from days bygone
feeding flies
in service
of furthering their species
helping its mission
a flowing drain

A pup ahead
ah! some relief
in his playful swagger
hungry he seemed
rummaging!
pity I took
needing to uplift
my waning mood
biscuits would do the trick
a kick he got
from a passing man
scurried the mongrel
into a drain petrified
leaving the biscuits untouched

Sigh! for wanting
a happy ending

A carcass ahead
Burnt to the bone
unrecognisable its species
An old mongrel
gnawing at it
with ferocious hunger

Keeping some biscuits near
I hurried away
Not wanting to plant
the image of man's
indignity to another species

Looked up
in search of stratocumulus
beyond the gulmohurs
only enveloping darkness
engulfing my being
in silent triumph

A walk home
in sullen silence
was all that I managed

Sunday, September 23, 2018

Wish I Was A God No More

Yet another year
I am decorated
and celebrated

They make
more of me
and bigger too
more money, I guess
to show their faith

They don't like me
anymore
for who I am

They make me
more human-like now
a Army man,
a policeman
a politician
a cricketer
a movie star
a cartoon character too

Adding more colours
and more grandeur
It resembles me
yet it does not

Have they lost the plot
or am I too old
to understand
I know not

Everyday
flowers
crackers
loud music
and dancing
leaving
a decaying
destruction
in its fray
to be cleaned
by the untouchables

And in time,
its time to say goodbye
with much fanfare and noise
they see me off
Visarjan they call it
dumping me
in the big wide ocean

There are thousands more
every year
me and me and me
choking the waters
and its peaceful inhabitants

When all is done
and dusted
left alone
and abandoned

Awaiting as I dissolve
in ever delaying plaster
a million fish and more
die a silent death
in service of humankind
whose all but abandoned them

What use am I
a god for none
there to feed
an ever rising ego
and kill
those silent beings
that I lovingly
brought into a
nurturing world
long lost its way
to greed and pomp

Wish I wasn't
a god no more
wiped from memory
of a humankind
so blinded with me
that they fail to see
the destruction they bring
to my most beautiful creation

I sigh
and wait
yet another occasion!

Prompted to write when I saw this terrifying video - https://www.facebook.com/indiatimes/videos/2222166398014603/

Sunday, July 22, 2018

Raped

Tata (grandpa)
I fondly called him

Then the Rapists
one after the other
all
known to me

Kind eyes
turned lusty
heavy bodies
smelly orifices
Were they 17?

The beatings
Threats
Sneers
Cold laughter
Sent a chill
Until a log was I
Dead, yet alive

The laughter still rings
jarring my being
drowning my screams

Pleadings
Just 12, I am
falling to deaf ears

Would it be over soon
Wished I of death
Willed I of death

Time became a whisper
Dark I befriended
For light
an unfortunate reminder
Still alive am I?

12, I said?
Just right
They cheered
Hunger in their eyes
Meat I be

Let me go
Not to my birther
For I don't wish her
To see me
butchered

Let me go
To my creator
So he can face me
For it must be a He

7 months?
I know not
Time stood still
The day it began

My body
My being
My soul

RAPED

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Impulse

He saw an approaching train
An impulse
What if...

He took a tiny step forward
An impulse
What if...

His imagination
Having taken the step
Felt the thud
Deep in the bones
The crack of the skull
The mangled remains

All too quick
He watched his body
Disappear beneath

In a moment too soon
Life was sucked
disappearing soul

In a jolt
Back he was
The train
Sped past him
Leaving him sweaty
And shaken
Just a step behind

An impulse
Gone too soon...

Monday, September 5, 2016

Here You Belong, Go Find Your Bed

Dim, dark streets
What am I looking for?
What am I running from?
Running to

There is a excitement in the fear
Is it the seeking that urges me on?
Or the instinct to find, to belong

I run through the back alleys
Knowing not where to turn
Yet my body moves
Knowing
Taking me to where I need to be

A building
Like none I have seen before
Crumbling yet alive, buzzing
Tall like holding many secrets
A city within itself

I run
Bodies all around
In the doorways and alleys
In the corridors and stacks of rooms
The small, the big, the round and the Mis-shapen

I run
Towards them or away from them
I know not
But I run
Passing their empty eyes
They look through
Not seeing me
Yet knowing me
Intimately like a lover

Their gaze
It's perturbing
Wanting
Needing
Surprisingly loving

I run
Floor after floor
A never ending maze
Of bodies and eyes

I reach the pinnacle
A spectacle of a million bodies
Adults and children
The able and disabled
In decay and yet thriving
A sea of humanity

I hope and seek sadness
I find only joy and laughter
I assume decadence
Yet in their poverty
I find thriving
I look, I seek, I wonder
Confused with this wondrous unreality

A kid
With a smile
I haven't known in life
A body so frail
Yet eyes so alive

"Here you belong,
Go find your bed!"

And bang
I am awake
In my one dimensional world
Struggling to belong
Yearning to go back
To the land of decay and alive!

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Unheard Cries

I am used to early mornings
darkness before dawn

Dhoti and kurta
Empty bag
I left before they woke.

I feared
they would see my fear
Didn't want to
weaken by resolve.

I walked 5 miles
in the silence of twilight
the riot of colours and sounds
beginning to embrace the morning
while the darkness in my life
engulfed me further.

I took the first bus
packed with others like me
they carrying hope
I carried despair

Their bags were full
joy in their banter
sadness in their eyes
Mine was empty
I didn't plan to return.

I avoided familiar eyes
hiding in the morning darkness
I needed to do this.
I didn't have a choice.

I overheard of a girl
raped by her employer
I heard of her courage
and prayed her to be strong.

Another in a city
a name I had not heard
was told it was in India
somewhere in the east
She succumbed
I said a silent prayer.

I wondered
'Will it be worth it?'
I didn't know what else to do.
My children's empty faces
haunted me for months
They didn't deserve this
neither did she.

She gave me her life
stood by me
as hyenas fed
on everything we owned
They took it all away
yesterday was the last straw
my dignity.

The big city bustled
I made my way quietly
Bought my provisions
and waited at the gates

I watched in fear
as the morning workers arrived
Oblivious of my intentions

I wish someone would stop
even if its to smile
for a moment more
give me hope.
Alas!

I hesitated
just for a moment.
my children...

'I need to do this my children.
Someone needs to hear our cries.'

I doused myself
Lit the match
The pain unbearable
flames erupted
it ended quickly.

I rose above
hoping to watch
the march of freedom
to save my children.
There was none. It was in vain.

My name made news
Vitthal Bhimappa Arabhavi.
There were protests
tyres burnt, roads blocked
but none to fight
for my children's hunger
and their bleak future.

I am sorry my children,
I tried, everything...
No one heard my cry
No one...

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Vulnerable Me

Vulnerable with indecision.
Vulnerable with low self-esteem
Oh vulnerable me!

A dream to fulfill and thorns in the path
I take them away but worry I might hurt them
I hurt, the thorns continue to grow, 
Entrenched on the path of my dream
Oh vulnerable me!

I have bigger goals, I plead
I get caught in today.
I wish to get through
It never wishes to leave me.
Oh vulnerable me!

It wants more,
demands more,
needs more,
I let it hang around
Yet another day
Oh vulnerable me!

My goal goes farther
My dream eludes me
Oh Vulnerable me!
Makes me live in indecision
and makes me its slave.

I wish to unshackle!
I wish to unshackle
from vulnerable me.

~ 19th February 2010

Dread Going Back

Dread, I do, Going back
for more reasons than one.

Here, anonymous
a nobody!

Back home,
somebody's dream
somebody's expectations
somebody's boss
somebody's ex-love

Dread, I do, going back
to the same morning
the same day
the same responsibilities
the same burdens

Dread, I do, going back
to being a boss
a manager
a torch-bearer 
of a thousand expectations

Dread, I do, going back
to being a son
a friend
a man of the world again

Dread, I do, going back
to the days
of memories
of familiar streets
of familiar people
of familiar love
longing in its want.

Dread, I do, going back
knowing fully well
she will not await me
neither will she be around
to share my life with me

Dread, I do, going back
to not loving.
wishing it
desperately
not allowing.

Dread, I do, going back 
to who I am!


Stay here, I wish
a stranger
a nobody.

~ 25th July 2010.
These are posts I wrote on a tissue sitting at a local bar in Prague in January 2010. 

Languish

Languish, I do
Within me, deeper everyday
Hope dies every moment
and yet I hold onto 
of what remains

Is there a way to Un-languish me?
set me free from hope

When there would be no hope,
there would be nuthin to hold onto
and It might just set me free

Languish, I do
in moments of despair
in moments of memories gone past
in moments of stability too

Languish, fascinating a word
almost like a slouch
give me a bed and push me under the sheets
don't ever wake me up
let me go deeper
into the hope
I wish to let go off

funny, ain't it
that its hope 
pushing one to the edge
strange are the ways of humans
Languish, I do!

~ 12th October 2010