Meraki

Image Courtesy : google

Between the fingers

she held a charcoal

and ran them through the canvas

making tresses so beautiful..

the portrait breathed..

in monochrome,

as the sparkle in the eyes

reflected a million dreams

that she held..

She swept across the face

and the lips bled

in grey..

slowly transforming into 

a painful smile

leaving an indelible impression of

melancholy.

Her spirit surfaced

as she laid her desires to rest

with strokes under the neck..

planting kisses, as she 

dug deeper into the details..

The picture came to life

even when it was half done!

She had everything, but sight..

and she painted with colors

of her soul...

She called the canvas

her Meraki...

***

Meraki (Greek): the soul, creativity, or love put into something, the essence of yourself that is put into your work.

La Douleur Exquise

I stare at the sky

as gravity keeps me grounded

and wonder if the moon appears

as bright to you

as it appears to me?

I catch the wind

in my fists

and glue it with kisses

and send them towards the sky...

If you ever feel

a puff touch your lips

or wind caress your hair,

I want you to feel my scent and touch

And know..

that even though I have never

been able to express

my love

or ask...

i do feel it..

as strongly as you don't!

And sometimes, I believe

you are like that dream

I keep chasing...

A beautiful illusion..

And this, darling,

is universe's way of letting me know

that the yearning should never stop

no matter how heart wrenching the pain is...

just like you...

***

La Douleur exquise : (French): The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can't have...

Komorebi

©obscureoptimist

I remember the fables that grandpa told me. Years years ago. 

I relive them time and again. In sights and sounds. Sometimes in walks and shades. Sometimes in light and greens. 

I live in a fantasy, but reality keeps pulling me out of my reverie and I struggle to find my way back to the beauty land of imagination.

 I struggle to convert the humming into music and chaos of traffic into rhythm. 

Sometimes i find it difficult to grasp an empty street and understand if this is an imagination or reality. I almost feel like inception, where i am levels deep in my own dreams and the inexplicable is happening.

But on a rare day, like today, I believe when people say that reality is beautiful too. Just like this lightplay that nature arranged for me.

 Just like this shade that the trees lined my pathway with.. And the beautiful web the nature created for me to filter the surreal. 

Just like this,  when am walking alone and there is no chaos.. There is nature... Peace... Music... And me... 

Exactly how my imaginations appear to be..

***

komorebi (japanese origin) means the light that filters through the trees

Jouska

Picture Courtesy: Diba

I have left you behind. A long time ago,  darling. I have moved on. I wish i could be as detached the stars are, to the moon. But everything is connected. So so deeply,  that try as you may,  you will always find alibis to the attachments you end up with. I can't speak to you. But I do, anyway. In my head. I wish you could hear me.

I always used to carry a camera with me, along with my quintessential tobacco kit. And sometimes a bottle of liqueur.I could've been a chef. Or a bartender, you know. Or a photographer,  instead. But i was a quitter. I quit. I should've hung around longer. Shown you the doors that held most amazing secrets of life. Held your hand,  and traversed the paths leading to wonderful revelations and treasures. But I gave up too soon.

When you look at the beauty around,  what do you miss the most? Do you ever miss me? I see, you have embraced solitude, like a bee hovers over a flower merrily. You don't seem to be bothered by it. You have come to love the void i left. Or did i?

Would it make a difference, if i came back?  Or are you so comfortable that there is no place for me in your life anymore. I don't think I can...

But, if i had a chance, would you let me?

I live with a lot of things. Pain, yearning, wait, regret... And .... Jouska.

And so i write. Like you,  my love.

***

Jouska : A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play in your head.

Irusu

© obscureoptimist

Knock one more time...
and leave!

I want you to be content for having tried.

I am just an arm's distance from you..
Hold me if you want.
Touch.
Explore.

But to reach me, you have to tour over
an elaborate labyrinth.

No, it isn't fancy.
Neither is it difficult.

But if you ever get past my smile,
after having stared into my eyes
genuinely,
i want you to tell me what you see.

I will open the door and let you in..

Until then, lets just pretend
That you knocked,
and I never heard.

***
Irusu  (Japanese origin) : pretending to be out, when someone knocks at your door

Hiraeth

© obscureoptimist

She always walked with her head held high. No. It wasn't arrogance or snobbery. She was some thing else. She would look at the sky while walking and intermittently check for any obstacles on her way .  She'd rather fly, in spirit as her feet touched the earth, one at a time, ignoring the gibberish that people talked and sounds the children made around her. 

The smoke from the vehicles passing by, only made her wheeze every now and then. Every evening she would shutdown her desk,  pull on her sling bag and experience the surreal dusk.  As if someone was waiting to make passionate love to her. She would walk, looking at the sky change colors. Sometimes, when the sun stayed for far too long, she would stop by for a cup of tea and watch it set. 

Sometimes she would walk with it, as it set into the horizon.  And sometimes, she would sing to the sky. One day i asked her,  what made her so crazy. She said, 'in a city where it's difficult to find my people, i look at the sky. It reminds me of home'. 

I couldn't understand, until i moved away and experienced the same beauty in a different country altogether.

Some things make you feel at home. Perfectly so. But I always feared,  that she would, one day stumble upon something and hurt herself in her sheer ignorance and madness.  She did.

He helped her pick up her phone and pieces of watch that broke after having hit a rock. She smiled,  as she picked up her belongings. 'I think you don't know me', he said.

Startled, she looked at him. 'We walk together till the supermarket everyday. And then i take a right turn. '

She never noticed. 

Her home slowly shone down upon her and colored her life with hues of love, right where she lived for years. 

In a long long time, she wasn't homesick anymore. 

The hiraeth had ended. She found her home in him.

Gumusservi

Picture Courtesy : Diba

There were two moons that night..
you and me,
Amidst many...
shining like silver reflections 
on water..

Water that poured..
when monsoons were delirious...
and you were perplexed
like always..
every single time the seasons changed...
you turned timid..

because you did not like
the idea of water puddles
that soiled your attire..
Or sun that shone too brightly, or 
winter moons that adorned the sky..

Slowly you waned off
into your space
and i realised..
I shone better without you..

...Even in reflections!


PS: Gumusservi means : Moonlight shining on water

Fernweh

Picture Courtesy: Diba

I belonged to you

my dear

long before I knew I 

belonged to myself..

Places can be homes..

but for me it has been You

And I have been searching

for the warmth

since eons..

Walking into the unknowns
looking for a
place that seems familiar
which is nothing,but you...

Come to me, 

like a longing

that stays and never goes

come to me and stay.
I have traversed enough
I want to see

what you look like

or seem.

or feel.

Come.

Eglaf

© obscureoptimist

I walked into a room, 
full of people practising plays
"Hey you", one called
"Come here and be a tree".
I stood motionless looking at 
characters move by.
For hours together,
as the rehearsals began to set.
I smiled for having found a place somewhere,
then they thanked me and I left.
Walking on the street,
someone held my hand and said..
"Let's cross the road"
I was a crutch to their fear.
I looked around, wondering if I wanted to 
cross the road at all?
Then someone came
and waved a hand.
I smiled.
Happily.
They asked for an address.
I obliged.
and they left too.

What was I?
nothing?
And then someone came along,
and asked me my name..
Are you Samah?
No... I said,
I am Eglaf.

D for Dépaysement

Picture Courtesy : Diba

Where have I landed? 
This is not my home... 
Strangers are smiling at me
Or has the laughter become
Unfamiliar?

I do not belong here... 
There is no warmth... 
My skin is turning blue
And the coldness of attitude
Is shrinking my heart
Into a lifeless stone.
My bones no longer feel
Your touch... 
Because it is not you.. 
Anymore.. 

Shadows are chasing me
Talking to me in voices so close
But i refuse to believe that they were
My people once... 
I don't recognize the heights of success
Nor songs of praises..

I do not understand the dark walls and frigid zones
Where people talk and convert deals
with just a handshake..

I want my deals of friendships back
Under the mid morning sun 
On the barks of trees
That filtered nature for us.. 

I don't know what joys bricks enclose.. 
I have always flown
And rested on leaves... 
Like dew drops..
Take me back home... 
Please.. 

C for Cafuné

Picture Courtesy : Diba

Like an indecorous lover,

you racy Wind!!!

You run your fingers through the sky

and brush it's beautiful tresses

into shades of Rose and Sangria..

Sometimes I could gulp it all down

and intoxicate my soul with 

what you paint for me

and dampen my senses...

Or sometimes compose in your glory

Shamelessly!

Why don't you come into my life someday

and flirt with my woes...

Engage in yet another Cafuné

Soothe the sprint of thoughts..

In my head..

And color my tresses into shades of love

No one has painted them happy

in a long long time...

B for Bengaluru

Copyright : obscureoptimist

Dear Bengaluru,

You may be titled as one of the IT hubs for identification purposes.
But you are not about that alone, dear city. You are so much more.

You are about the beautiful mains and crosses of Malleswaram and Hanumanth Nagar. 
You are the fragrance of filter coffee of Vidyarthi bhavan on Gandhi Road. 
You are the poshness of beautiful houses in Indiranagar and Srinagara. 
You are the beautiful roads of Rajajinagar, the market of Commercial street and the book hub on the avenue road. 
You are the softness of Mysore silk and shine of the Bangalore silk. 
You are about the metros connecting the sizable areas of MG road and the likes. 
You are about the culture at Rangashankara and history of Lalbagh and Cubbon parks.

You are about the chaos at Marathalli and Silkboard, you are about the styles trending in Koramangala and MG road. 
You are about the places you are surrounded with..
You are about the airport which is not even in you, it is so so far! How do you live with it?

You are so much that one could think of and experience. 
And I am so glad I could experience your evening rains and assert the claims which people lay of the weather of Bengaluru. 
I will miss the warmth though, which has started to replace the pleasant drizzles of the evening.

I have been in a love with you on certain levels. 
I have hated you far too many times too.
From exploring your streets, to looking for houses, I have been in all the nooks and corners, possible. 
And I realized, you are very naive. 
Old, but naive. And that's your beauty.

I wish I could ask you...do you miss people when they leave you? 
Well, that's a rough question, and stupid when I personify cities and expect them to miss people. 
But that's what I do. I live and end up loving the places I've stayed at.

But, if you ask me how much will I miss you if I leave... I'll say...Gotthilla...

...Tumbaa...

Thank you, Bengaluru!

~obscureoptimist

Aurora

Picture Courtesy : Diba

i woke up this morning.
in a desert.
usually bereft of moisture
and warmth.
But the dawn was singing songs
in rhythm with petrichor,
as i saw clouds of disdain
hover over me.
like nature was asking me
to pack my bags
and leave for another universe
where the dusks are clearer
stars brighter..
and dawns, unfogged.
and deserts -the way they are meant to be
and farms, green and lush..

Far somewhere, 
a land once green,
now hollers of drought..
and I...
I wonder...
how do I get
to the nadir
so that I lay a base
and slowly climb to the zenith
of something 
that is pure
-of nature
and fair...