Tag Archives: time

Statue of Liberty

The sky has turned
Red with sunrise
Blue with sunshine
Grey with clouds
And purple with sunset
I saw the Sun moving
Between my temples
I know the clock hands
Have toiled their way
Through the seconds
I see the World going by
Yet, I remain immovable
Set in stone,
I am the Statue of Liberty.

Do you exist?

Are there days in your calendar

That are empty?

Are there thoughts so loud in your head

That refuse to let you sleep?

Are there lists with little check-boxes

That taunt you?

Are there hours and days and years

That were swallowed anonymously?

Are there others with lives and dreams and achievements

That make yours seem small?

Are there any traces of the child and the teenager

That you once were?

Are there ways to change the heart

That won’t wound you and bleed you to death?

Are there words within you, deep within you

That have forgotten how to be born through your hand?


Are you there anymore?

Do you exist?


There is little that survives Time
Long enough to see another day
But with the World so full
The little multiply into fake multitudes
And we believe the order’s never been disturbed

Maybe this was the order- that
Those that die, should die unnoticed
And those that get born
Should never know when to exit with grace
It’s a delusional Time
A morbid World


The clock on
Incongruous limbs
Hands out each day
As retribution

Punitive and molten
The hours inhume
Earthly misery
So close to the surface…

Like blood that
Runs just beneath
Skin: Hidden
But barely,

Until the nights arrive
With their arsenal,
Banishing birds and
Light from skies.


While the world assumes its focal point to be someplace,

The real events unfurl elsewhere

In the peripheries of eyes, just round the corners

Pitched battles over pitchfork issues

Come to a close when the Sun’s gone behind the lantana bushes

To scorch ground and sinews on the otherside of an ending.


We think it’s over, when it hasn’t even begun;

We think we are dead, when we haven’t even been concieved;

We fear we are losing, when they haven’t even begun taunting;

We decide we are the ones moving, when the Earth turns one last time.

Having to live

Why can’t I decide I’ve seen enough

Of life, never mind I’m just a laughable 23?

What ought to be looked forward to, but

The gradual happening of life…the movie

You wished would end, the pages you wished would

Run out?

The sadism behind every living moment

When I submit to its whims: cry when Life deems fit

And laugh in between for comic relief;

Bear children who are unlikely to see me as anything

But their Indian brown version of the ‘White man’s burden’;

Share “moments” with another, who is set for

An all too similar fate.

And if Death were to favour him over me,

For all my desperate longing

What should I do? Or rather, what can I do?

I’d join the billions, wandering through

An accumulated loneliness,

That was once fervently hoped

To be never gathered.

But like dust, it has gathered over my memories

I would think after all those years

When I try to count using my fingers

The way I must have

Once upon a time.


Sifting through the silk screens

Her arms flailing to clear a path.

The unknown lie ahead

Like an oasis. A mirage.

Deluded as life itself.

She can hardly wait to meet them

She must beg Time to move faster

To let her pass.

To find closure.

To let her die,

Before Time.


The dark fluid left behind

A darker chamber

To traverse a ground so white and

Striped in blue

Swayed by an inconsistency that

Followed a set pattern

The fluid wrote the lines that

A world beyond its comprehension

Hailed as the poem on destiny

An elaborate design, to be understood