Chug

Chug
Chug
Chug

How much of this is something I will be able to drink in
Before vomiting out
To let it sink in
Before putting my bottle down

Gasping for air and blinking
Deserved embarassment for the mess I'll make
Realizing it was a mistake to
Chug
Chug
Chug

My gluttony may just be the death of me

Please teach me to sip
To gargle it out
And please teach me to pull out the drain
Before I become a sinking ship
And drown

This bench

This bench 

Like its brothers has never discriminated

From derriere to derriere or bag from bag

It has stood firm

It's concrete base

Weathering dust storms and rain and trash and crow bajsas

It has united and can seat

4 large children

5 uncomfortably ,squeezed moderately chubby teenagers or

6 tiny first graders

Headquarters for 

Girls gossiping 

Boys horsing around

Cliques occupying territory

Love birds courting

Never deceiving, 

It tells you when there are too many seated 

Yet it is kind

And its brothers sit at its shoulder's sides 

Like outstretched hands 

And if you kneel a little 

You could sit between two groups

 This rather unloved bench

Nobody to cool it down on summers

When it can't bear the weight of sunlight anymore

Nobody to keep it warm in winters

When it can't bear the weightlessness of the chill

Rather unloved

Nobody takes selfies with it on their farewells

Nobody tags it on their timelines for all the good days 

Or the bad days

 Or just days where

You've seen me glorious

You've seen me grotesque

Under-loved or rather unloved

Nobody calls you bae or bae-nch or seatie

Even though it's always been our before anyone else's on days

Where we couldn't support ourselves

Wise

It's seen my ancestors

And my descendants

And this soil we still call home

Yet you still sit silently
Waiting for us to come home already

Photoprompt

Your Perpetual Nightlight

In the silence of the night

When there's some time before sunrise

My young wight

They all lie

Bed bugs do bite

And monsters and nightmares

Do haunt

When you thought they were out of sight

But I pray there’s always somebody by your side
 To hold you tight

Keeps you safe

Keeps those monsters at bay

Your perpetual nightlight

Let's Be Kids Again

When your cousin wanted another Softmint, you made sure you sat on it and then spat on it and wiped it clean with a tissue. I had the task of presenting him the candy. After he ingested it, I notified him of the process it went through. We laughed together as he gagged in front of us. Poor Asad Bhai.

Let's do that one more time.

And let's fill a piece of paper with dirt and drop it from the top of my apartment when we see an approaching target. "Now,"I exclaimed when I saw a man pass by carrying a briefcase some 10 years ago.You dropped the dirt bomb with exquisite accuracy. I remember the shrill shriek and shimmy the man did as it exploded in front of him. Poor briefcase carrying uncle jee.

And just lets throw a paper ball from the balcony again. Back when I was 7 we did the same thing. It hit a tailors head who straightened it out. He tried to see if the paper had anything of import written on it. "Darn we should've written a threat," you told me. And then we scrambled down to inventing threats for our new paper ball.

We were terrorists.

Lets pretend that the shelf on my room is a library and the long thrown away treadmill is back as our pretend bus. On other days, the horizontal bar on my bed will be a tight rope and the mattress a customizable tank which will hold lava or sharks or a black hole. We will have to see who balances themselves the longest. You always did before.

 We were fearless.

And let's go to the park and roll around the grass to see who can go the farthest. You always did before, with me winning just occasionally. We'll feed the ducks popcorn again. And maybe I'll get the corner of my eye hit with a swing just one more time. But that's as far as life could hold a dilemma. That I got hurt while playing. Plus it always healed perfectly.

We were explorers.
.
And lets just make my little sister lick a bug.  And marvel at how the dissected lizards tail still wriggles on the floor while my aunt and mother shriek and shimmy on the couch to get away from it. And let me count the teeth in that goat while you force its mouth open. 

We were zoologists.

Lets see who who can chug down the most bottles of Pepsi. I can still remember you proudly declaring you had 14 bottles while I struggled  miserably with my one. And next we'll eat all the flaming hot Cheetos our grandmother brought us from America and eat it suuuuuper slowwwww to make it last longer. I used to think experiences were permanent that way.

We were connoisseurs.

I'll  pretend that this Rs.10 bill is a Rs.10,000 because when I was a kid I actually believed it to be true. And let's see who can still name the largest number. I still don't know what is the larger number: 10 thousand billion gazillion million or 100 gazillion million billion from when we first debated upon magnitudes? I'd rather keep the mystery intact and not figure it out.

We had convinced our 6 year old minds that the only way billboards got made was by dipping an entire piece of paper in a bucket of paint (your belief) or taking a huge piece of paper and just painting it all entirely (my belief). Some kid in the van would declare you had the most reasonable sounding argument.

We were pretty damn mature.

And lets bully some kids we found in a birthday. We won because we were taller and older. We were also convinced nobody or nothing in life could bring us down.

We were wrong.  

But we were kids and that made it okay. We're still kids right now, buried under the adult like veneer of  I'm-perfect-and-I-don't-need-you-I-have-it-all-under-control.

Please let's be kids again and be that glorious conglomeration of part terrorist, part connoisseur, part philosopher because we forgot to be all this when we grew up and now nobody would ever roll around in the grass for fear of ruining their makeup or hair. Nobody has the time to be eat Cheetos suuuuuper slowwwww. Heck, you don't even call or talk or say Hi anymore.

TL;DR : I miss you, I'm bored and I'm tired of pretending I have it under control.

So please,please,please.

Let's just be kids again.

When You'll die

(Dedicated to anyone who's ever given a damn about me)

As your body convulses with laughter at something that would probably want a tomato to fling itself at you for possessing such low-IQed humour I can't help but notice how alive you look.

What would happen when you'll die?

Why, It'd be my body convulsing with the news of you passing by. Your tomato-flinging glory days running rampant in my head.

There would be plenty of "Open the window I can't breathe moments."
A plethora of checking my phone for old calls,texts and pictures moments.
Going to the mall, looking at your favorite shop, wishing you were here moments.
Wishing you were here moments.
Wishing you were moments.

Me realising everything you did for me- the cooking, the hugs, the effort was one grandiose "I LOVE YOU SO MUCH." I should've kept the ears of my eyes wide open. Been a little less crabby about how you didn't care about me. Called when I had the chance. Took the time to scream out my own "I LOVE YOU SO MUCH-es." The ugliest debt a person is never able to repay is the the love given by another when their gone, my grandmother once told me.

"You're wrong nani," I'd say tearing up becasue even if you're not here I have to pay you back. Love you again somehow. 

I wouldn't kill myself for you, after getting to know about your death. But here is what I would do:

I'd pray for you. Pray you'd go to heaven. That we'd meet again there and be the best friends we always were. Pray for you to be cosy in your grave. The same cosiness I'd feel when you were around me.

I'd remember you through poetry and writing. To my audience you would be the person who made my writing more alive, more compassionate. I'd name you as my life brightener.

I'd teach my kids about your mannerisms. To them you'd be the weirdo who ate the bone marrow straight from that chicken leg piece. The person who read while at the toilet. The cutie who did their duty as a parent, a friend, a loved one.

I'd do all the things we'd planned to do. Reading obscure books, starting our own school, doing something awesome enough to come on TV and then I'd scream your name out when they'd ask me who was my inspiration. It was you. It was always you.

I'd make sure I'd achieve a lot of super cool things super fast just to be able to take your name in all my acceptance speeches. Thanks for making me the person I am today.

And I'd teach at schools to pick out kids like you to create an army of yous. I guess people never die. they're just recycled in the new generation.

And hey I'm sorry if it seems like I don't care enough about you to kill myself and join you. I'd rather keep you alive and have you join me.

As for now. I just can't believe how I coexist with someone so lame.

Smirk

If soft-pawed kittens 

could tear at curtains

and desserts could be bitter

remind me

that your smirk

could be a

kaleidoscope of 

ugly