Thursday, January 02, 2014


I resolve to dream bigger this year.
Oh no, maybe I shouldn't say such things anymore.
A better poet… heck no a better writer,
Yes a better writer.
A better singer…of many a bathroom serenades
Made to the shower head while breaking the crescendo.
As that sputtering water cascades down on my face, my skin
Clearing away the blurred lines made by the fuzzy memories
of the year gone by.

A whole year went by and I am supposed to have grown
stronger, sadder, simpler because that is less complicated,
But you know what if I am complicated?

Does it matter that the water couldn’t blur away the stretch marks
the sun burn crevices, the wrinkles and the worry lines, the stray grey
that’s hidden in the black of my hair with its sullen wisdom?

The bones and muscles that are
that more likely to break and break down now than they were the year before?

Does it matter really if I laugh that less louder, or if I sometimes try to yell
welled up with emotion - but the sound just doesn’t come?
'Tis not the teenage angst, but the vocal chords doth do protest much. 

Does it matter that this body and this mind are ageing?
Is it a bad thing? But am I not a wiser this year?

They tell me I am ageing like it’s an irreparable damage.
They tell me I am not young because
I can’t stay up all night, pass out due a shot induced comma at dawn
And wake up instead with pouches under my eyes and dark circles narrating
tales of an era that’s gone by in the darkness of just one night.

They tell me I will never be as I was a year ago, because my body
is that less desirable, my hair is that less smoother and my eyes that less brighter.
You wouldn’t want to lie with me under a starry-skied night anymore
Because my inter-planetary, space travel stories don’t charm,
Don’t ooze with magic and sparkle with the burning joy of my fast expiring youth


I am growing older, I make better resolutions, I am not less magical
I still dream of blazing comet trails brightening up the night sky with great light and wonder
My eyes still shine and my skin still trembles with the idea of a world that is beyond the horizon.
I don’t want answers anymore to the what ifs, but instead I ask now what else?

Why don’t you see me the same way I do? 
Am I suddenly not a dreamer because my body is now becoming an eye patch
that you’d shut your one eye behind, while the left strays idly in boredom.

Age is a number and a growing sign of my mortality
Age is grace and a chance to break free from "dignified morality."

I resolve to be a bigger dreamer this year. I am a weaver and a catcher
The night sky shines bright even during the day, but you’re blinded by its sun-lit beauty.
Look beyond the blinding white light, hear beyond the shrieking white noise
I’m going to lie down and drift to another universe with eyes open wide,
do you think you could dare to dream too?


Niraj Bhai said...

Absolutely fantastic.... the only ageing I know off matures fine wine and women.

Champagne wishes and caviar dreams for a very Happy 2014 and Happy B'day too

Niraj Bhai said...

Absolutely fantastic.... the only ageing I know off matures fine wine and women.

Champagne wishes and caviar dreams for a very Happy 2014 and Happy B'day too

Christopher said...

Ohhh, I like it a lot.

Married you are, as I am, so
Restrained my praise must be;
Dulled my ardor,
Muted my encouragement.

From here, from across the planet core,
Your hair, your skin, smell and feel as soft and sweet as the very first day.
Your shape, gestures, radiant enigmatic smile and star-sparkling eyes dazzle and stun the lucky voyeur.

The stars at night, revealed in their immensity, fail to compare with the breadth of your mind's eye, the lentgh of your understanding, the depth of your literary longings.

Search, I implore you, further;
Explore, eyes half-closed, dulled by the drifting incense, by the caress of the gentle night breeze, the time out of memory in which our common ancestors glimpsed the nature of god and revelled in the nighty spectacle.

Follow, within, the steps of your inner guide, and let him show you, unhurriedly, the wonders that lay hidden, below the tumults of daily storms.

Fear not to speak.
Fear not to reveal.
Your words come from life itself,
An amazing fountain,
A never-ending dream.