Love notes

This one is for all the lovely people out there who sent me loverly love notes for my birdday

You and me

You and me
eternity
I evaporate you
You extinguish me

Page of Cups
Page of Wands

I'm not a singer I hush

I give you a piece of me with every smile
and when you walk with her
and every time to you talk
to your respective her
that piece of me
is flushed out of my life.

Every little thing I write
to you is not my intelligence.
Every time I say I miss you
its not to be polite or to end the letter.
Every time another he another she
walk down the road hand in hand
and a piece of me lies crushed.
I oil my hair
they gather dust.
I avoid metals
they rust.
Burnt cake crust
tastes just like my hush,
the singers are the winners.

Post birthday bu

The back of a hand made birthday card I got. Thanks a lot.

Today, because of yesterday, I feel incapable of making anyone happy.

Death of a Teenager

What I am doing listening to Nick Drake
I should listen to some really loud rap, hip hop
and rock, which I usually don't do
Because these are my last hours of being a teen!

A day like today

We still make stories like candy floss
Layer over layer
Trying to secrete the layer beneath.
A day like today remained unthought-of.
A day when I call your brother
For your home number
And you ask me my name.
Every image around you
Is a picture framed
Telling our story.
I state the case
Not exaggerate.
I come to take my cycle home
It’s chained to your gate
Rusted and lifeless.
I ask for the key
To the trapped being.
Trapped by three long bamboos
The three of wands.
He moves the bamboos,
Chips of your home fall to grey
Making a hole in your wall
The pigeon egg that lay
In the basket of my cycle
Was wet and unborn.

Bcc: BBB (I mailed to my friend today)

if you are quiet
make sure your teeth are white
for when you'll smile
everyone will know
that it's been quite a while
since you
brushed your teeth!

Ed.

On days like today
When I don't know
What to do and
Who to be,
I cling to anonymity
and realise it's not easy
to not be famous
with a name like
Chamko Rani.

Ed saves me
From being mislead,
He brings a smile
Every evening
At five.
Ed is my love monkey.

I am transparent
I feel what the music wants me to feel
I think what you say.
I am a post-it
You put me on your fridge
And leave.
I am liquid in a cup
Pour me down.
I am the coin you tossed
At the river.

With me

I live like the hanged man
Suspended
With the weight in my head
Nothing to say
Candy doesn’t lighten me
Chocolate doesn’t taste.
I sink
Descend
Drop
Submerge
Within myself
Within the hollow in my stomach.
My words are lost here
In cyber space
With no one to feel what I feel
with me.

These things I cant say

Moments don’t leave
They are not people
They are places.
I’m in another city
On my bed.
Its real
Its not in my head.
Little pictures
That we often forget.
Passing a street in a bus
Looking at purple flower trees.
The smallest second when you
Pull your hair behind your ear.
It doesn’t feel the same.
The curtain moves with the wind.
It isn’t memory
For it’s not you, or him
It’s the river, the lane.
Only the soundtrack
No picture story.
The song,
More than song.
This feeling more than pain.

Attention Attention

Chamko Rani,
Queen of all heart shaped red balloons reveals a way to Her heart.
The Queen has been mesmerised by the song - L' effondrement by Yann Tiersen feat. Dominique A.
Unfortunately She has heard only a piece of it.
Anyone who can get this song to the Queen gets a piece of Her heart- and a portrait
by Her Highness.

***

I live like a song on repeat

All those times. How easy it is for them to come back. They slip in through the crack in the door, and the gap in the window, the chip in my mug. They get all the love and fill my eyes. The truth that I despise. I lost. Your things they still lie around like it’s the same time. Yet it isn’t .You and me are years apart. You are grown up. I am not. I still live in the world of love. Thinking its here. Its not. The same music. The same music. So much can go wrong. So much can change while so much is the same. I don’t think of you as you, but what we were. And it’s sad, that it isn’t in the world anymore. For the world to know, to see, and to feel. It’s all a hazy memory with bright sparks that show up like fire flies but they are gone by the time I turn to look. The light falls on tiny flowers about to bloom, and I realize the light is what I still look for. I still look for you. You burned me. But I forget what you did and look for what you were with me, when I didn’t know things. When I saw no light, it was all dark; I saw no point in light. I loved the dark. I don’t look for the dark. No. But those days can’t leave as yet. It’s going to be a year. A year isn’t enough.

I have to stop. I can’t let me tears be seen. I hide them with glasses. I don’t live by me. The theatre. The air with you and me there. I live for that light. Those times. I keep them all in me, ready to push. Push myself off one cliff, to fall right into another of those happy valleys. The black box that kept you and me. Still keeps us there. We still exist as we somewhere. Me a little more purple, you are a little more red. That black box.

Too many eyes see me here. I want to be there and that is what I fear. This moment I bit my lip, and think of a rhyme and then it dawns that I fake a crime. Why do I say what I say, I feel like I should run away. I feel like a clown stuck in a mime, or a word repeated for rhyme. I cannot induce time. I erase everything I don’t mean to say here, today. I use only my heart, no word of the mind. I stand under this light to fight all that we don’t. The pages we tear to make boats that would float are now all soggy and the picture within is foggy. What stays here, is still your stare. Its still there, on the last chair in the audience up there. I know you are there, here somewhere. But you are not. You said you won’t care. My heart says strange things with a heat. A heat that gets to me eyes. All the time that I rhyme with you in my mind. I don’t write poems. I write paragraphs in line. You are my sunshine. My only sunshine.

Until the piano starts again. And the rain. When it’s all getting dark, the water on the sets reflects our kiss. Your feet under the red sofa, the blue clothes hanging on the clothes lines sense the shiver I give the giver . The times, together. Those times together. These times together. I don’t use the perfume we bought. I hope it never dies out.

The piano, it makes us shiver. It makes me remember. Its not now, it’s the never.

One thing I can never imagine is your touch. The touch that began us, that made me say what I felt for you. As I say this I stop the tear from dropping from my eye. My mother is somewhere near by. It stays on me finger and spreads itself on the keys I play. The keys I play to say what I say. A couple of tiny ears do listen to me. They stare at the words I key.

Music banned by Plato, made little sense though. I see what he might want to see alone in the night while the state was busy. I am thirsty but I don’t drink water for it’s too far away, and suddenly what I say here becomes like a report I write for a disease, a log of what I hog. For the taste that many of us waste in haste is what I crave right here. The sweet taste of water, that we don’t find in our day. And then I know I become so clever to rhyme all these words that I lose what I want to say.

Loss is inevitable, isn’t it?

I hate these words put together like this. They never comforted me. They never will. Don’t use them for me.

The paper today said,

that I shall be an nameless mime, and I was! I am 1st Runner up at Malhar, one of Bombay's inter-college festivals. 1st is Lola Kutty. Mime is not a popular thing. But with me around you will be seeing it more than often. Philippe Genty, I shall see you one day.

Wish me luck! Today is the big day!

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Wanted

Status: Uninspired.
Creative Chaos Required.
Call # 98 89 56 65 43

My Story

Hey Jude,
Imagine Lucy in the sky with diamonds
while my guitar gently weeps.
Don't let me down.
She loves you ya ya ya
All you need is love.
Live and let die.Yesterday.
Here comes the sun,
I want to hold your hand,
twist and shout,
love me do.
Strawberry fields forever.

Happy Birthday

Hey guys,
its time to be jolly and
give me a big colourful lolly,
It's your birthday!
6th Aug is bugs' budday
7th Aug is this is me's budday.

Hello Goodbye Hello Goodbye

I am a Lucy in the sky with diamonds
my story for the week is that
what I expect doesn't happen.
No party. Only disappointment.
No night I saw. But a magical evening.
A long ride on a bike all the way home
from one end of town in the rains.
I sang many songs
and tasted many rains.
Now I continue to sit with my fingers crossed
as I get more into competition.
People are fun, and I am happy.
I float like I am in a boat on a river,
with tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
The Ace of cups shows up all the time.
My page of pentacles is somewhere close.
I wish to share the rains
in this cold place with him.
It has been difficult to write because of the
rush called life.

TABULA RASA

Post Card to Self

Yippie! My sister comes to Bombay tomorrow! I will be living with her in a guest house. Away from home... like a little vacation in my city. I can't wait for tomorrow morning! We shall go out in the evening, let's hope the rains don't make it diffcult for us to have fun. Late nights, may be a day of partying (which I rarely do) and peace... away from blaring TV!! The beach? The sea side? I just want to stand on an empty road late at night. I just want to see how it is at night in Bombay. I have forgotten.
Fingers crossed,
chamki