White lips, pale face, breathing in the snowflakes, By dawn’s first light she lay awake. Huddling for warmth The snow bunting tweeted, Flapping by the windows And slurring long and short notes. Walking through the halls made of timber and oak, She hummed her favourite folk- ‘How many seas must a white dove sail Before she sleeps in the sand? And how many times must the cannon balls fly Before they’re forever banned? The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind The answer is blowing in the wind’
Stomping grounds, she ran through the dock, Scattering feed in the waters for the flock. Affection and mirth danced in her eyes, Making them sparkle like radiant summer skies. Plunging from the highest highs, She flung through the winds of July. Teasing and tempting, Imposing her charm, She strolled through the woods so dark so cold, Tucking her tresses half grey and gold. Plucking cherries and sucking berries, In fancies of a maiden fairy. Telling stories of a dead soul, Little infants she cajoled. Handing them berries in the bush Purring ‘Hush a bye, baby hush.’
In the lands of wonder and prodigy, The stories of a boy who wouldn’t grow up were told, Wrinkling the faces of children with laughter And filling their chests with joy thereafter. They flew far and wide With Peter by their sides, Above Neverland’s clear waters And heads of pirates that fetter; With hearts of sweet mischief and roguery, Troubling Hook’s artillery;
Pan flew with plans and conquests, With touches monarchy and reign in his wings; Together with Tinkerbell and Wendy he gildes To rescue Lost Boys from horizon infinite. In dreams of hope and trust they lay Tinkling like bells, fluting their ways. In language of fairy dust and sprinkle Escaping from clutches so nimble. Shielding this land so dearly loved, Surrounded with waters so fondly blessed. Weaving stories on the seashores, Made of fleeting sands and ripples of folklore. Building castles by the seas, On pillars of glee and mirth Housing children like you and I Chiming with shingles of love, Beaming with smiles forevermore. To grow is to worry, And leave behind all that you had ‘So come with me, says Peter Pan Where dreams are born, And time is never planned. Just think of happy things, And your heart will fly on wings, Forever in Never Never Land.’
We danced and danced Till your lungs gave in and our feet swelled up. In halls so empty, we fluttered like butterflies With wings of joy and felicity. Legs spreading like a sheen over the floors Winding like stairs up the days of yore. Hands ruffling through the winds, Moulding and forming virtual shadows Of swallows and birds not known. Rolling in the deepest waters, Submerging and diving. Swaying like the flutter wheels, Picking up and letting go; Vehemently clashing and Clemently unifying Like poles apart and close. Tapping the beneaths of the earth as we go,
Bending and breaking from our hips to toe. Gaiting and galloping; Waltzing and cakewalking through the rooms, Gleaming and glazing like fallen chandeliers. Fingers hovering in ways unbeknown, Poised and steady in frames that shone. Gyrating in infinite loops, Oscillating in the hula hoops. Dancing brought us the joys life didn’t offer, And took away the agony it did. Spinning on the thumps of our heartstrings, With no fears of the demons within. Frisking under the stars, And leaping ever so close to them. Magic and myth frolicking out of our souls, So thirsty for what falls from their shores.
There is a certain ache that lies in the way people say – ‘Let go of someone who doesn’t want to be held back anymore’ Lately nothing has made more sense to me than the fact that we ought to step out of the game as and when required. Maybe we are not among the playing eleven. Maybe we are the number twelfth, the substitute who rushes into the field when one of the eleven is unable to make it.
Life takes these massive turns when everything seems smooth. It’s like you know that you have to turn the steering right but all of a sudden you discover that the right turn leads you to a dead end and all you have to do is turn left else you might knock your car down. People leave the scenario when you least expect them to. You might be sitting with them on the window pane, drinking coffee and being all chatty about someone’s life and the next day you might not even see that person around. You whine and whine about how things are not going your way at the moment. But truth be told, things have never worked out our way. And that’s all about it. No more, no less. Life is all about juggling your way through and if you are lucky enough, you’ll make it to the end.
The world would have been a better place If only you saw beyond this layer of wax that I am dripping in, If only you knew that I was burning and melting away, If only you would not try to put me back in shape.
Someone’s put me on fire, and I’ve been burning ever since. The cremains that I leave behind, The ash that flies, Abandoned and forsaken like an old raggedy doll, To be poured into the vessels of your name.
Vessels echoing like the sound of a wind chime, Tinkling like bells, filling up the rooms with songs unknown; But it’s only when I took a closer look Did I know that these are empty and hollow and void. And all this while, I have been muddled into something so empty as a coxcomb.
Perhaps I have proven to be misfit; A scissor that can’t cut straight, A fruit that doesn’t taste sweet, A pen that can’t write swift, And a wind that a ship can’t drift.
It feels all spellbinding when you sit by your window watching the rain fall and fall forever. The air around you fills with this strange scent of monsoon which carries tons of leisure in it. These are the days when you absolutely have no imagery of anything and wish time kept running slow like it does on a rainy afternoon.
The clock keeps ticking, the rain keeps falling, the winds keep swaying the trees off their hoods, and things take the shape of ‘easy’. Your heart is filled with a sense of positivity and optimism and you finally start to believe that it’s going to get better.
There is this theory that I believe in, that is, once in a while, a rainy day can bring you the insight to your life that you’ve been so long searching for. And quite obviously you must have known that as I continue to write this, it rains here. And that is what makes me want to clear up the haze my life lies in.
Have you ever wondered what’s it like to be walking around on a rainy day? With all the rain pouring and soaking you wet, and you feet covered up with a thick layer of mud, for most of us is not a good idea.
‘But it feels so refreshing to watch the rain?’
It’s all copacetic until you leave your seat of a mere spectator and actually take part in the act or I might as well say, ‘Get your hands and feet dirty’ (metaphorically)
Watching and observing have the power to make just about anything look beautiful and fearless. The world turns upside down when you do more than just sitting and watching, and take a leap out of that window that you’re sitting by right now.
This giant leap that you take, would either break many bones or could make you fly, and whether to take off and land unduly is a choice you make simultaneously with the one you made earlier – ‘Whether or not to step outside?’
I don’t know where to begin. But I’ve convinced myself that I need to write to you however I’m not really sure whether the heavens have got a postal address. Through this letter I wish to convey to you the things people should have told you while you were still here with us. Please bear with me till the end of it.
I can’t find myself connecting to anyone as I much I do to you. It’s so awkwardly strange. I took the longest time to finish ‘Norwegian Wood’ and I am still moping over the fact that you couldn’t make it till the end. Your death came as a surprise to many including me. Probably Reiko knew you the best. Even better than Kizuki or Toru.
Have you ever been so thirsty that you ended up drinking water hastily and choke yourself? I am sure it must have happened to you. It happens to me quite often and that’s what is bound to happen when you think your mind and body are ready to tolerate too much all at once. Hence you end up choking. Too much of something or someone at once can do just the right amount of damage. A damage that has the power to even take away lives.
Like how it took yours and Kizuki’s.
You were this game of puzzle that had lost all its pieces. I knew it the moment I first came across your name in the book while you were telling Toru about how there was a mysterious well right in the centre of the field, and how much you liked walking through the woods dressed in colours of dew drops and darkness.
You were the (living) example of people who can’t cope up with bitter deaths, just like yours. For you, Kizuki’s death might have been a lot to cope up with, but I find myself resonating with Toru and Reiko. There’s a gap that is left inside us. Your death has made us hollow and vulnerable. Are you watching us? Do you think your clothes look better on Reiko? I am sure they do!
I miss watching you tuck your hair into that butterfly hairslide. I don’t see it around here. You must have taken that with you. You know, sort of a souvenir from Earth. I wish you’d left something for me. Instead you chose to leave a trunk of memories and that ‘gap’ from which I can never find myself recovering.
Please don’t get me wrong Naoko. I love you. And I don’t blame you for anything. That’s the last thing I would do. You played your part, and left when you had to. Probably not in the way I had imagined your exit to be. But never mind. Why would you even bother? After all, I am just one those girls who felt a little like you, trying to make it till the ends of time.
All I hope is that this letter reaches you and that you don’t burn it down like you did the rest. I hope you keep it, safe and secure in a place closest to your heart. I know it might ache you to do so, but give it a second thought. It would really make me happy.
Truth be told, I wasn’t thinking of writing to you until Norwegian Wood came up on the radio. The song just managed to move me towards my desk and here I am penning it all down.
If I start listing all the things on your mind while your soul left your body, it would probably cost me a lot of paper. Was Toru on your mind when you convinced yourself that what you were about to do was right? I can bet my life on the fact that he was. And for reasons, quite obviously you knew that he wasn’t yours to keep any longer.
Did you wonder what Reiko would do after you left us? I am sure you figured it out too. She finally left the sanatorium and she’s starting afresh. Didn’t you always want that?
I know you’re a little unhappy about how your funeral turned out to be. But dear, keep your sprits high. You had 51 songs played for you! By the time Reiko put her guitar down, I’m sure there was a curve on your face. That damned smile!
I often picture you smiling, walking around the woods, brushing your hair up, looking into infinite void once in a while. I can’t tell you how vivid it is. You are the most bright and intense memory I have. And that is the last thing I want to part with.
However there’s something that you could have done better. You could have written more than just a line in the supposed suicide note. It could have been anything. For Toru or for your family. Anything. I hoped you could have got at least a sentence out of your system. But I also know for a fact that it aches you to write it all down and therefore, I forgive you.
Dearest Naoko, you have done things that people living for a hundred years can’t. I can only love you more for that. I hope one day you find this piece of letter fluttering through the woods, and give it a read. It would mean the world to me. Thank you for giving me Toru. I owe you my life. Please feel free to write me back from up there.
I watch my sister nurture her child As one would do to a bird; Hands small and fragile, Feet tiny and red, Cheeks of cheery blossom And eyes of Dorian Gray.
Good old days come floating by In colours of mellow greens, Heads soaring up to the heavens in blue, We watched the floating reels. Of trifling matters we talked Under the scarlet skies, Growing in and growing out, In the vastness of the breeze.
Those days, long gone now Feel just a reach away As I watch her put him to sleep The way she did to me; Caressing his head Between the folds of her arm And the crease of her gown. A sight so captivating, I couldn’t but just glare With awe flowing out of my heart.
If only I could tell you Of the person you are to be, The one I would be extremely proud of. The mother of my heart’s most loved, The mother people talk of becoming, The mother that pecks her child on the forehead every night, And the mother you were to me.
In no circumstance, will you find yourself capable enough to face the fact that it’s time to let go. It closely resembles a gum that never digests. You might be a person with strong will power, but to make peace with the fact that you need to pack your bags and step out of the door is something you’ll never be habituated with.
You might be moving in and out, traveling different cities, rolling like a rock. But when it’s starts thinning, the gut wrenches only as good as a plastic bottle. It takes a toll on you. A big one indeed. When the realisation begins to set in that the people and the places around you no longer require your presence or comfort, leaving it all behind is your refuge.
We tear down to nothing. We begin to wonder what if ‘I am not in the right headspace?’ or is it really necessary to leave? Could I fix it all again? The very moment when you find yourself surrounded with questions like these, you must know for a fact that, you need to go.
You might not have a place or a direction in mind, but to take that step out of your doorstep is the beginning of it all. Being a little apprehensive about your decision is the one of the most common symptoms, but once your feet gets a touch of the unknown world, you start wondering elsewhere.
Departures are as important as a glass of water for a beggar. If you don’t take it anytime soon, you might as well perish in the old attic of far off memories.
Infinite boulevard 