Life
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One more rape. And yet more outrage. Newsreaders screaming louder and louder. Social media reeking of anger. Newspapers filling up space. Houses of Parliament spewing rhetoric. The noise, the din, the unbearable torture of a nation that is clueless, helpless and directionless. Yet again. The carnage continues. A nation is caught reeling under one more
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Anger. Disappointment. Desperation. Envy. Pride. Resentment. Joy. Melancholy. Love. Hate. Friends. All of them. Available. Ever present. They crowd. An abyss. Called the mind. They occupy. A meaningless chasm. Called life. Their party. Never ends. The chaos. The noise. The deafening silence. Never leaves.
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She sleeps. Yet she is. Without rest. She gazes. Into the dark ceiling. The seamless cover. Of black.Lit by a thousand twinkles. Interrupted by. A hazy foreground. A gray lining. Partly covering. Silver stars. Her mind wanders. She lingers. Over the past. Worries. About now. She thinks. About tomorrow. She wonders. About how. It will
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Red. Blue. Green. Cyan. Magenta. Yellow. Blink. Blink. The night. Lives on. As she does. Sparkling above. Vulgar below. Colors of torment. Of unrest. Fill her firmament. They merge. Into the night. One more night. Sleepless. Restless. Endless. Seamless. She ends. While I do not. She stops. I do not. I am enveloped. In my
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So many lives. In one life. So many deaths. Relationships are such. They mirror life. They resemble death. They create. They destroy. They consume. They get consumed. They are warm. They are cold. They are beautiful. They are old. They are ugly. They unfold. They never leave. They come back. They remain. A reminder. Of
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Man. Wife. Two sons. One daughter. A tata car. Packets of masala wafers. Immersed. In meaningless. Group activities. In pointless. Logistics. Clicking away. Creating memories. Unable. To savor. To enjoy. To reflect. To meditate. A facade. Of happiness. A picture. Of togetherness. Makes me. Suffocate. I hope. They leave. A selfish thought. I hate. Being
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Somebody. Who meets a stranger. In his room. For the first time. Kisses him. Lets him. Feel her. Just the lure. Of the forbidden. Of rebellion. An expression. Of disdain. Of boredom. An act. Of impulse. Of lust. Without regard. For the past. Without respect. For commitment. Just another moment. In a life. Where. Every
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Stoned last night. Saw clearly. Smiled honestly. Laughed openly. Dissipated anger. Accumulated bitterness. Unadulterated lust. Unbridled love. Unconditional existence. All there. In the clouds. Shining through the stars. Emanating from the flowers. Rustling through the trees. Then I wake up. With a headache. With little recollection. With half a smile. From a dreamless night. Awaiting
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There is pain. In my heart. It happens. Every time. I embark. Upon this path. A path. That is agonizing. Yet full. Of ecstasy. My breathing. Gets hurried. My mind. Searches an answer. To a riddle. A riddle. That I call. A story. My heart. Seeks salvation. In a temporary moment. Called creation. I also
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Last night. I saw you. Old. Ethereal. Beautiful. Glowing. The future. Was. Exactly. As I envisaged. You. Me. Laughing. Crying. Bickering. Sulking. Always wanting. To stay away. Yet. Never a moment. Not together. The elusive. Road trip. Like our life together. An endless drive. Through every terrain. We arrive. Slightly scathed. But refreshed. Each time.
Hansal mehta 