Taamul

Million, billion stars Scars of the darkest nights When not invisible behind The  moon  bright &  white Unrelenting  at death  even  Hell, the shadow of heaven, where fire brightest  burn ? Cacophony of life In the womb l ie deathly Of the night Until the sun  silently detonates t he light  Freeing the violence of existence Destruction, you owe the dawn? Survival of the fittest, creation Fire, knowledge, religion Science & civilisation Control, light, sin, war & annihilation In the conquest of fear, inquest of  the   dark Interrogate the beginning Why the end?

On the long treeless walks, The unyielding Sun shone hot and hard. You had an umbrella. Did I love you? Or did I just wish some shade? Classes were boring hostel moribund. You pure entrancing charm. Did I love you? Or did I just want myself to lose unto you? My songs sucked. And you had the Bee Gees the Carpenters and Dan Seals Did I love you? Or did I just wish Music? Life not interesting, death not arresting, yet enough. You seemed both, yet more. Did I love you? Or did I just wish to inhabit A third world? Thoughts were insipid And you were my La belle mélange Did I love you? Or did I just aspire to indite, poetise, criticise? Mind was complicated And you had a neck, two breasts. Did I love you? Or did I just long to indulge in your innocent simplicities? I was lost And you were paths. Promising me a home, a light. Did I love you? Or did I just seek religion?

From the deepest, and the darkest nook, alleys and mazes of my thoughts, Hidden  f rom facebook,  Not allowed even in my dreams.  I have hidden her from myself too. Is she shameful or is she immoral? Dogmatic, academic, eerie or fearful? So tender, so nimble, that the faintest touch. Create tenacious memories. Lest it can’t be stopped. I am never looking, yet I keep finding. Right now, I am waiting. Just to lose her,  forever.

An edited version of this article was published in ( Down To Earth (August, 2012) “Rivers gave us the first great human civilizations. But what did we give back to our rivers?  Death?” – Ms. Sina Suchiang, a Khasi women working as a teacher in Brichornot Village, Jaintia Hills, Meghalaya Dusty and sooty landscape of Jaintia Hills. Narpuh Reserve Forest (RF), deep inside the Jaintia Hills of Meghalaya, is among the few good forest patches which has withstood the intense pressures of growth, development and mindless extraction of natural resources like coal and limestone. It also forms an important watershed area with many important rivers originating from the hills. We visited the forest in March and November last year looking for birds and primates as part of an ecological study. The 200 km and 9 hour long journey from Shillong to Pasadwar village, the range headquarters of Narpuh RF block 1, was dominated by large broom-grass plantations, coal and limestone mi...

Swaying, chugging, whistling, tunneling through darkness, Within and beyond. Naipaul on the berth, Nokia in the palms, Kenny Rogers in the air.   Rhythm of rail in my bones, familiar journey, yet unfamiliar senses. Rattling fans, clunky iron wheels Bending my legs, I longed for familiarities of home, when   ordure and urine smell found my nose. And eyes looked towards its source. Saw a face glow, with the lonely light, erupting from the loo, against the ivory face. Hairs unmoved, scarf caught in the wind. The face entered, the darkness returned.

Life flows on promises, imperfect and frail Live-stream of unkept words trail What urges us then? To live, love Hopeless hope to find hope Dreams beyond love, love beyond dreams Entrapped life, evolution, creation’s intimate stream The beginning of the end or the end of beginning Love or death, keep wondering