TO BE “HER”

Light- beams shooting across her silhouette

She holds on to the trees and sways

The leaves borrow her rhythm to rustle

They serpent around her like a veil

Her braids unravel from captivity

And twirl like an old light-house stairs

The forest gives her away to the wind and wind to the sea

 She enlivens all the three

Sea wind borrow her hate for chaos

Both pirates and empires waited for her

The waves mimic the rise and fall of her form

Now I want to follow her too

Follow without thought, fear and attachments

Walk with me into the sea

Can you see the old treasures she takes us to

Witnessing birth of life in the world

Witnessing the end of another

To be the wind that reminds someone of home

To be the sea that mystifies mankind

And the forest that one doesn’t want to be found from

To be an entity

To be the disappearing 

To give in to the primal

To be her.  

How do I remember?

How do I remember?

I have begun to doubt my memories

Can I do justice to them?

Do I remember the wind as it was that day or do I mix it up with me?

Do I remember love or I ruin that too?

Or do I make rain seem like a memory of a matka with a million holes?

Is every reflection and everything crawling to be remembered with fascination or am I just created for the hyperbole?

Do memories of dark days get stored in black white in everyone’s head?

Are days of joy supposed to be remembered or created?

Are my memories of success in childhood in harmony with the now "me"?

Is family supposed to be reminiscent about?

Are winters remembered by the cold or by hot choco?

Is music remembered or lived?

Do I want to be remembered or forgotten?

Is anger as fierce as I remember?

Is my country remembered everyday with a feeling of a déjà-vu’?

What is it when you only remember no directions?

Where did I drop the map?

Do I remember what I think I remember from blurry memories?

I ‘am afraid of not having memories that don’t make me laugh,

Do we live life or does it become a memory in the end?

I do not comply or resign my memories to life

I will not let my memories be copyrighted by “reality”

What kind of man is this?

You are a wise man

You are strong

You are brilliant and beautiful

You are weak and headstrong

You are filled with every energy source at the same instant

You are noteworthy in shades and the pure-light

You create awe and pity 

You flow like the water and create new oceans 

You standstill like the mountains and cause the winds to break

You are infectious 

You are dull

You are the filthy from the source 

You are innocent and conniving

Your sins are ugly and desperate

Your body is in his image and bursting with inequities

Your eyes are sharp and sad

Your smile: a sweet embrace.

Do I want to know you?