245. Nightscapes

his affairs of the night
are secret;
hidden
even from himself

his snores and sleep-talks
sound
like a mono-syllabic rhyme
with multiple interpretations
for different audience;
interpretations
I fail to decipher

like the rhythmic hum
of an alien robot
working tenaciously
to take over the world

like
a series of polite persistent nos
to devious escapades
proposed by himself

while I watch him
each night,
he chuckles

he retorts

he mumbles

he (seemingly) exhorts
invisible armies
towards unimaginable battles

and I wonder -
what if he is indeed
an extraterrestrial spy
(and I get rather excited 
by the prospect,
might I add)

and I wonder -
will I ever get to know
the person he becomes
each night?

will I ever get to know
the person who inhabits
the grey nightscapes in his head
between dreams and daylight,
between memories and midnight?

will I ever?

will he?

---
An ode to a frequently somniloquist, occasionally somnambulist husband! 

244. Death by love

I will not
remember
you
tomorrow

I will not
remember
your grey yesterdays
your checkered hopes

I will not
remember
the moments
when I was you
and you were me

I will not
remember
that I showed you
the world,
or the world I showed you

I will not
remember
that I took you
to the end of the world
to the end of yourself
and let you out

I will not
remember
that I was
your muse
your murderer

I will not
remember
(ah, the small mercies of life)

but neither will you
(ah, the fun perks of death)

---
:D :D

When
you did come,
did you come
for me?

Where
will I go?
Will I go
from here?

243. Yaadein

ik ajeeb rasm
musalsal hai
na jaane kabse

log
zindagi ko
jeete kam hain
aur yaadon me qaid karte
zyada hain

main bhi
har manzar
har lamha
har dayaar
har tajurba
qaid karne ki koshish
me gum rahta hoon
hamesha

magar kyun

ye bhi to nahin
ke ye koshish
apne liye karta hoon

ke main in lamhon se
phir guzar sakoon

zindagi hai hi itni choti
ke unhi tajurbo ko
duhraane ka mauka
milta hi nahin

ye bhi to nahin
ke ye koshish
doosron ke liye karta hoon

ke main in lamhon ki
numaaish kar sakoon
is duniya ke liye

sabhi apne apne tajurbo me
yun masroof hain
ke unhe mere qaid lamhon me
na to dilchaspi hai
na inke liye fursat

to is qaid khoobsoorat safar ka
main karoon bhi to kya

abhi ke liye to
main inhe apne
tees saal puraane
yaadon ke album
me rakh deta hoon
jaise karta aaya hoon

dheere dheere
ye tasveere
zindagi ki dhoop me
pheeki hone lagengi

dhool jamne lagegi
in kahaaniyon pe

aur
kisi din yun hi
in yaadon ki bhi maut ho jaayegi
chup-chaap

aur ham bekhabar se
naye lamhe
qaid karne ki koshish me
chalte rahenge
aadatn
bematlab
bemaqsad

shayad jeena
isi ka naam hai

242. Mistaken for myself

some days
I am beautiful

and on others,
ugly

but most days
I am both,
my beautiful shadows
indistinguishable from my ugly corners

---

some days
I am the question
that keeps changing

sometimes,
I am the answer
that never changes

but most often,
I am that uninterested gaze
the gaze that
neither comprehends
the pointlessness of scrutiny
nor cares about
the intransigence of the response

---

some days
I am hope

on others,
cynicism

and then,
there are days when
I am the boxing ring
where hope and cynicism refuse to spar,
but just sit around,
playing dumb charades

---

fairly often,
I am ill-behaved
performing
to a cheering, jeering crowd

occasionally
I am alone,
keeping me the company
I seek

but there are days
when I cannot stand myself

and I try to flee in vain,
with myself in persistent pursuit

---

on most days
I do not know
I do not notice
that I am happy
too consumed by the choices
of pleasant noise in my head

on others
I feel guilty
I feel too overwhelmed by my happiness
and seek an escape
in narratives
of war-torn cities
of dysfunctional families
of unrequited love in grimy alleys

I bawl

I amuse myself with futile attempts
at letting myself
out of my life

---

some days
I decide who to be
and I am nothing
(thankfully)

on most others
the world chooses for me
and I am way too many useless things
things I never actually am

but today,
I am not sure

why don't you suggest
the story
with which I should strangle
and kill the hours?

and then
I will return
the favor
(and the pain)

so ponder and tell me -
who should I be today?

---

I want to swing from the chandelier - Sia :) :)