In one of those moments that now seems prescient,
You said, it’s all going to end badly
I didn’t know what you were talking about then
It was a simple conversation between us friends
A, B, C, you and me, after a couple of drinks
Around the time when ribbing each other on love life
Gives way to discussing politics.
We were always the peacemakers, you and I,
Probably because we were usually more sober than the rest
Or maybe because we had seen it, first-hand
How lifelong kinships are ripped apart by a few words of discord
How amiable neighbours turn indifferent at best and abettors at worst
When the monkeys come to roost
(You see what I did there? Monkeys don’t roost!)
So in that moment, when spirits were flowing and spirits were rising
B said, oh, you are all paranoid
You don’t believe a good thing when you see it
You are so used to looking for monsters under the bed
That you invent them when they’re not there
No, no—said A—it really is getting suffocating
You can’t see it because your life is secure in your plush condominium
C—usually a fence-sitter—rose up in indignation
You think I haven’t seen the world? Haven’t seen death, rot and misery?
I have seen it all, but I’ve made the life I live now
With bare hands and dirt beneath my nails
So—B interrupted—you see how things have changed?
From misery to mansions, your life has transformed.
And how did that happen?
And on and on they went, running circles around each other
While you and I watched like we weren’t there
Like it was a football match on TV.
Tempers rose, as was inevitable
Wives and relatives were pulled in and defended
By this time, I was asking for the bill
So we could leave
And then, you spoke:
This. This life. Circumstantial or deliberate,
It’s preciousssss.
The ‘S’ went on as your last breath escaped
And your eyes froze in a permanent stare.
While I looked at the debris of civilization
Scattered around me after the explosion.
It did end badly. For all of us.
Explosion
I want to hurl.
Abuses
Vomit
Homilies
Angst, pure angst.
I want to unsee.
Unhear
Unread
Unthink
Unlearn
Undo, just undo.
Okay, let’s try this
Break the rhythm
Distract, think of something else.
Kittens!
Sweet, mewly kittens
Funny, internet-breaking kittens
Ninja kittens, purry, furry kittens
Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens
Sound of Music
Austria, edelweiss, Hitler, Auswitzch…NO!
Then…movies
Oscars – no, Black Lives Matter, Charleston
Ha ha! Let’s stick to comedy
Can’t think of any.
Oh, I know, I’ll be the ostrich.
Or, I’ll close my eyes and
Put fingers in my ears
La, la, la, la, la, la, la,
I can’t hear you!
But the surround sound
It’s deafening and so
Debilitating.
I am scared
I am moved
I am alive
To the pain around me
And the alternative
Is to not be alive.
So, good morning.
I live another day
To die another night.
And the world continues to spin.
The soldier
Fierce, chilly winds
Icicles piercing my face
Glares piercing my eyes
As I stare at my adversary
In another nation’s garb
Across an expanse that
Promises to swallow us both
I stand my guard
I face the storms
I don’t question
Questions will get me killed
I stand my guard
So that you can sleep at night.
The student leader
Raging emotions
Stifled voices, choking sounds
Surround me as I take the stage
To sing an unpopular tune
To beat a drum so stretched
I don’t know if it will last a single beat
The song has no chorus, no verses
Just one line repeated ad nauseam
You teach me so I can think
You teach me so I can think
Others join me, add more words
But the only problem word is THINK
The song is done
The drum tears
Tempers fray
And I find myself
Crushed by a stampede
Lying on the ground
Looking at the stars
For me, there is no sleep.
The soldier
Who am I fighting for?
The flag I pledge my allegiance to
My fellow soldiers
My officer
My love, my children
My pride.
The coins that rattle in the bank
The forgotten promises
The six months of frozen hell?
The student leader
The rabid crowds feeding on fear
Hoist me up and I become
A symbol
An icon of misplaced bravado
I want to climb down
And sit with you, talk to you
About my dreams
Of pink sunsets and orange dawns
And air that is crisp but free.
But that is not to be.
My thoughts have been trapped
In a little box
And fed to a giant gramophone
With the volume control
In someone else’s hands.
Whose tune does it play?
Mine? Yours? Or His Master’s?
The soldier
Take me back to my home
Walls cobbled together
With cataract-ridden aspirations
And the mould-eaten door
At which my mother awaits
Her martyred son.
The student leader
Take me back to my home
Cow-dung cakes light hungry hearts
With hope, but instead
My father is met with
Angry flashes of questioning cameras
Baying for his son’s blood.
And lies fill coffins.
And lies fill minds.
Eviscerate
A figment of my imagination
Or something real, tangible
I don’t what to call that moment
When you left.
It must be real, for you are not there
It must be real, for the room is empty
And the curtains blow in the wind of wishes
I stand there, looking around for traces
That suggest you were there
A comb with one strand of hair left behind
A book dog-eared on the page you narrated to me
A necktie still twisted in the Prince Albert knot you had mastered
You were there.
You are here.
Right now.
So it must be my imagination.
But I stand here
Eviscerated by the loss
Of you
Of us.
Decision time
The protestor calls out to me
From behind the makeshift mask
That saves her from real and metaphorical tears
The protestor looks into my eyes and the expression is a curious mix
A plea, a dare, a sneer, and yet a hope
That I will join her
And become part of a growing whole
What is she protesting?
It doesn’t matter
It is a composite struggle
It is a layered tapestry of asks and wants and rights
There is always something denied to someone
There is always a struggle
There is always a society in churn
What do I do?
Do I jump in head first?
Or do I take the easy road?
Where does that lead me anyway?
To artificial meadows and chemical-fed flower beds?
There is a choice I need to make
But it’s Sophie’s choice, isn’t it?Whichever way I turn, I lose.
I lose when I raise arms against the mighty unfairnesses and hypocrisies
And I lose when I stay silent.
The protestor doesn’t wait for me, she moves on to the next
And I watch from the periphery
I feel my feet getting cut
From walking on the thin edge.
I need to pick a side, or I will end up cut in half, useless to both.
I need to stand up and be counted.
I will lose myself if I don’t.
The meeting
As I sit across from you
Shadows flit across your face
Such a cliché!
Actually nothing flits across
I fib.
As I sit across from you
Your pupils move from my left to my right
Trying to focus on me but failing
Because actually you don’t want to see
I know.
As I sit across from you
A conversation starts and sputters
“How have you been?”
“Fine. And you?”
“Same. You want to order something?”
“No, just water is good. You?”
“Same.”
Such a shame!
We used to read each other’s silences
I remember.
As I sit across from you
You reach out and hold my hands
The warmth, familiar, the sweat, not
Are you nervous?
I wonder.
What brought us to this point
Across the table
Like two businesspeople negotiating
We used to occupy the love-seat in the private section
And they used to leave us undisturbed.
The private section is being revamped
Just like my heart
I hope.
I withdraw my hands
And get up.
“Wait!”
I stop.
“Meet me where Rumi said—beyond right and wrong”
The fight leaves me.
And…I love.
Rain
In the instant that I turn
My eyes hit the light you exude
I am blinded by your brilliance
And look down
To trace the shape of my shadows
Blurred at the edges now
Because I brought a cloud between us
Why do you stand there
Enveloped in your aura
Staring at me with guilting eyes?
Do you not know that the earth will move
And we will be in different hemispheres again?
Why do you insist on beaming neon thoughts
That stir the neurons in my head?
I am losing sight, you know,
And the least you can do is soothe my fired senses.
It’s time.
We need to diffuse.
We need to bring back the cool coziness
That defined our early days.
We need the rain.
To shine.
Why we dream
It came to me in the night
Why it was that we dream.
It is not unfulfilled desires
That we hope to live in an alternate universe.
It is not unresolved conundrums
That we try to tackle with a resting mind.
No, it’s not a symbolic reenactment of issues
That the literal sense cannot comprehend.
Nor is it a replaying of the day’s events,
This time in slow motion.
It is so that my heart can refill my mind
Once it has been depleted of passions and sentiments
In the daily battle it fights.
Commitment
A simple word. It inspires, pushes, cajoles, scares, disciplines and brings joy. It has made me finally sit down and just write, without structure, without excuse, without thinking where it will lead me.
What was I waiting for? What made me click this and join? There was something building up, especially since I read this. And then it needed a channel, I suppose.
Why do I cling to writing? Especially since I write as part of my job as well. Is it because I think it is really the only talent I have?
I don’t know if I should question this anymore. I should just feed it. I should do it because I want to do it. Commitment comes from love. Commitment comes from the will to pursue something.
I have committed. A page a day. The journey has begun.
Nupur Chaturvedi 
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