Hiraeth....

The light doesn’t shed the same,

The fire doesn’t cry the same.

The air’s sobriety kneels towards your house’s truce,

Dust makes home around your jail’s noose.

What’s a hometown of sinners?

Peace swirls midst the amicable killers.

A breakfast lost in the hue,

A lunch at 2, silver plates and crystal blues.

A dinner at 7 to remind you:

All will never be over soon…

Fingertips resting on the rusted wheel,

Clock keeps on treading,

The sole of my shoes frozen in its dreading

To swim back to the barren land of a future sealed.

My eyes saw a past while driving at 60 miles per hour,

A shrouded touch of the cold nose, my dog,

A coffee’s foam embraces, losing grace's cog.

Five minutes into Faridabad, still is this car.

Once again, who names a hometown?

Sororities of men and women to just shed in unison.

It keeps calling for me,

But when I pick up the dial,

It screams in agony.

The broken trust of peace I have lived through,

The mother’s spiked alleyway, my sister and I tore our feet through.

Parent’s lace broke into two, what about the kids dancing at the altar

Without the brides and the groom?

The belts worn, the slippers broken,

Airplane rides crying to wake me up at night.

My precious body marred by my soul,

It all happened until my mind grew char like coal.

The heart still encapsulates the niche moments in the areola within,

Sweet fudge brownies, Sunday's delight,

Evenings aglow, gathered 'round the screen's soft light.

In warm embraces, kisses like a flood's embrace,

Love cherished, sheltered midst hatred's trace.

I learnt it from all of them,

Flawed nonetheless,

A person, merely a hand devoid of its veins.

The sun’s eyes at times perish in the moonlight.

Stilled under the clouds,

To return to home's embrace or slumber in the car's frisked wind,

A choice between the autumn road and my messed up mind.

Under the shadow of my father’s sheath,

A fated cry to the universe’s sky.

Let another man be my frozen sigh,

The man I now perceive,

Doesn’t speak what he glances,

Doesn’t believe what he preaches,

Doesn’t need what he beseeches,

The truth standing right in front of his fogged glasses.

You choose to hold the hands of the god than to carry your son’s identity.

Why am I aberrant?

The marks on my arms, secret to the dictionaries transparent.

Are you the deity who overlooks each entity?

The wind against your hair blinds your face,

Is the mobile you scroll through natural?

Is the car you drive natural?

I am right here with my hands over my face,

Foetal curls, held onto your material purse.

I am standing and natural.

Let your soul take one more dive in the sea of sins,

Not each is abusive,

Some find peace in the lease of your house’s crease.

Another speech awakes the earlobes,

The tea sip, the crowbar split,

In the November lush,

A tree of my destiny they keep on shedding,

The dirty bedding, the closest slits of dark parodies.

Hush, baby,

Let me put you to sleep.

A room hollow of grayscale,

A tortured couple dancing under the blue light,

Kids that shouldn’t belong fend for themselves.

A light’s ocean in the heat of the river,

Why can’t I help but feign hatred for my mother and father?

Roof given, all necessities provided,

Given is the nest of my mess.

Love is a bird they shot in front of me,

Eggs of hope;

My hometown crushed them in front of me.

The words falling off her mouth,

Not one is incandescent.

In our shared tale, a subtle rift unwound,

My sisters' love for parents, resolute and bound,

A fleeting tempest they weathered as one,

Yet I faced it solitary, under a different sun.

None suffered alone,

Without the limbs.

How am I supposed to go?

Words and emotions wither in hide and seek,

It’s a feeling I can’t enunciate into the known.

They understand the harrowing tales through my teeth,

But can’t feel it in their bones.

It's as if they are the mouth not the skin.

In life's art, frames are ours to fill,

Brushstrokes of tales, moments distilled.

Red, Blue, Green, marks under your chin.

We carry our brushes and paints to oblivion,

If all the love brushes against the bruised flowers,

Why do I cry in the bathroom beneath the night stars?

Even if our love didn’t die, odds in a million,

Is it possible that you could make me feel lively?

Life trails over the purple days,

Life feels full once you lose your identity.

Let the sun shine upon your ashen face,

Drape the curtains, let shadows be your serenity,

Let the moon finally be your face.

I'll never quite reach there, is what's clear to me,

Just a comet strangled alone aimed for chase at Halley’s tail.

An infidelity annihilated a broken home,

Two people tied together without notice,

One is bound to cut the rope,

Tethering the other to eternal nothingness.

Why? Both so naive to the world,

They encumbered the fright stories of their kins,

Suitcases packed, two letters of sympathy crocheted,

Suitcases thrown, eyes closed off the lords,

Violence at its par, a house doesn’t always shine like a star,

Waves of depression, departing ripples of vomit in the innocence of my eyes,

A father never learns,

A mother never loves,

In shattering, you found solace in unity,

Rainbows birthed from storms of your own impunity,

A bed of roses you burned,

Jumping off the roofs you made it seem normal,

All I have ever done was to make you clean,

But nothing works if you keep splashing mud on me,

Why is mama lying on the bathroom floor?

Why is mama not breathing in the living room?

Why papa why?

Why is there blood seeping into the broken bed case?

Why are you making me feel like I shouldn’t take up space?

I should stop breathing,

I should stop trusting,

I should stop believing.

Why did you do this?

None of this was my wrongdoing,

But you made it all my problem…