She says she wants to know more about me. All about me. That she wants me to open up. She consoles my defenses concluding that it’s my response that has wrecked her like Titanic.
They all say. They all do.
But how do I tell them that my tongue has ridges to modify the vocabulary my mind generates?
How do I tell them that my body is a library that has been robbed overnight where trespassers stop by to burn marshmallows out of my empty shelves?
Perplexed, they keep thinking of ways to comprehend me leaning against my railing but Darlin' how do I tell you that my arms are fragile balconies that will fall apart like columns of buildings when your earthquake love would set in? How every decibel of rumble would be muffled by my white noise? How every clash would reverberate with my innate denials?
My mind is the store room corner set on ignition. My words are firewoods. But Darlin' my eyes have forgotten to storm.
But yet every time I think of him I burn down a part of my chamber. Pull out the revolver and shoot myself until I die. Until I live again. Until I dry out storming even if I had forgotten how to storm.
But how do I tell you that death and life are synonymous for someone who dies living everyday and lives dying everyday?
And the days that pass by are like coffins closing on me at sunsets.
It was spring ‘99 when he realised he had a thing for flesh and bones that left him breathless for pleasure and pain. As he turns toward Jake basking in the sun beside him, enchanting him like centuries old mystery waiting to be solved he whiffs his cologne worshiping the cathedrals of his neck. With fears in between his fingers he takes hold of his fragile neck and rests his lips on his bare chest and sniffs his essence. His neck was carved out of structures that even God’s could not decipher.
It was Hanover ‘99 and he had a thing for California sky and Italian alleys. Staring at the man inches away from him he realized how surreal it feels to look at someone you wish to grow old with when you know you might be a sin away from erecting tombstones in your graveyard. He was shamelessly starring at his oversized unbuttoned shirt that complemented his physique. He had been watching him all handsome since they held hands together all the way from downtown to their car; mustering courage to speak of his love.
He stops for a while to witness moments of uncertainties consuming him as nature does to the last signature of our existence. His existence was a proof that no matter how gentle the river is the fountain will always come out fierce*. That the only way a sea can make love to the city** is by destroying it. That the only way you become one with universe is by loosing yourself to dust.
Strangled by his thoughts he held Jake’s neck firmly and caressed it with his palm all over. Playing all the way up to his hair he sniffed eternity against his beard. Love blinds you to a new vision. How else would his lips climb against his to sing their union a prayer when his eyes were all lost? How else do you expect his fear stained fingers to come out clean from Jake’s hair as his eyes lamented battlecries of the lost?
What if Jake loved him too? But what if he didn’t?
With his cold trembling fingers he grabbed Jake’s neck gently all over again pushing past his boundaries and played with his hair as their lips slipped against each other. He savoured the libraries inside him that were mistaken for empty open closets.
He kissed him madly, passionately and most importantly truly because what if their first kiss is his last good bye kiss?
When I say I have finished an entire book on boundary conditions I mean to say I have trained my lifeless body to build more boundaries than all the books in the world ever can. When I say I love the night sky, I want you to understand how I have concatenated my fears under their illusion. How this rotting body held itself against the pressure from being gold when geometry is all it wanted to be.
You see my professors say that it’s better to pursue what we think you might excel at instead of dancing to the chords of your own noise. When they say noise they mean the chaos that I come with when their strength to overpower me diminishes.
Its fall 21 and I see my man sitting on the edge of a cliff with dark chocolates and a blood stained jacket over his shoulders. He watches me stride toward him and stares at me in ways, a desert longs for its sea that has forgotten it beyond touch. We transcend space to feel our bodies against each other; he embraces me. I feel his burning body against my cold skin and grab him even closer. “What is this all about?”, he asks me; his voice dampening. I curl up even tighter and could sense his rubbing palm reassuring me that nothing lasts an eternity.
I push him away from me as gently as I can. I move away from him and his burning skin shrinks all frozen. My lips touch his cheek bone as I hold his triceps from reaching me. They travel all the way to his ears and I ask him, “How does it feel? Left clueless to your circumstances; Devoid of love and physical affection?”
He haunts me with his eyes and watches me all bare and starving. My wounded leg gives up and we coexist naked to our vulnerabilities.
Its fall 21 and we love each other in our jackets all bloody and shirts tied to our wounds. Our lips that recite your gospels are the same that taste like heaven when they touch each other. Our voices are prayers we chant for survival.
Its fall 21 and my parents kick me out of the orphanage they once called home.
Its fall 21 and I fight for myself. Its fall 21 and we fight together.
"We all have our fears Saisish, we all do", I convince throwing my hands up in the air with tears gleaming through my eyes. My eyes stare at the red traffic, thinking how I am a threat to myself. How we all are threat to ourselves at times. That how ardently we chase something we suspect might leave us digging earth.
But what good is a tombstone to it's kind that yearns for life? We try to use metaphors, syllables, similes to give our sinking lives a volatile stand but what good is one where you struggle beneath chambers to get out?
Tell me about your whiskey dripped hair when you passed outdoors thinking of old patterns as they stitch you inside out. Tell me how you changed not in days but in seconds of cosmic resurrection.
I am no good a writer these days. With every break I have lost myself to inhumanity. Of smeared eyebrows and lips that bite themselves I chew blades and swallow them slow, allowing strokes of precision; I ask you, of what good is love?
A huge empire... far beneath the waves ... somewhere in the midst of mountains, canyons, plains and valleys
A powerful tribe of aquatic creatures... their heads and upper bodies resembling those of humans, their tails and lower bodies similar to the tail of a fish HER team won the annual sports contest The emperor asked her what she wanted She wished to visit the surface of the ocean Only the males in the tribe did that once in a while and that too, as part of their security duty However, the emperor would never dishonour his commitment He kept his word and her team was permitted to go They left in a capsule similar to a small submarine, carrying provisions It had always been their dream to visit the ocean surface and now it was coming true They reached a shallow spot and the capsule was securely anchored The females - mermaids - as we call them - were allowed to go out and enjoy the waves The males would stay back The mermaids began to play with the waves It was fun... And then.... a high and mighty wave swept HER away ... She was stranded on the shore... all alone... She looked around and didn't find any of her friends... But she found a strange creature whose upper body was similar to that of the males of her own tribe though he had no tail... He saw her and came closer... Communicating with him wasn't easy but they used signs... His house was nearby Thankfully she could breathe on the surface, but walking was clearly beyond her purview He carried her to his house... She got accustomed to the conditions Everyday he would carry her to the shore They would take his small boat and look for her capsule Slowly, he taught her his language and she taught him her language... He was a loner and once a week he would visit the nearby town to buy whatever he needed, and he rarely had any visitors... And a few weeks later, she located her capsule... The guards - the males of her tribe saw her invariably at the same time... They carried her back to the capsule and... he was their guest of honour... They were warm, hospitable hosts He enjoyed the meal, it was sumptuous There were numerous dishes whose contents were all supplied by the ocean Then they showed him around... The strange engine room, the provisions store and finally ...their treasure Ohh.. Goodness...!!! gold and silver, Opal, sapphire, emerald, aquamarines, ruby, amazonstone, amethyst, pearls, rose quarts... you name it and it was there... actually heaps of them... Their glint and glitter blinded his vision and his conscience... The commander of the capsule gave him a bagful of stones as a token of appreciation... That would have been enough to make him a multimillionaire But he had other ideas... He told them that he wanted to give them a treat and they gladly accepted He visited the nearby town that evening and bought what he needed Next day, he prepared lavish meals in his own house and carried the containers to the capsule... along with his own separate tiffin The food was delicious, the magnanimous creatures loved it and praised it ... and then... all of them fell unconscious ...even the mermaid... He rose and checked everybody... he had to be sure that the drug had done its job... It was a powerful anaesthetic, the quantity added was large, and there was no way any of them could have survived... He went over to the treasure room, took out half a dozen gunny bags from his haversack and began to fill them with gems, crystals, gold and silver He filled the bags and closed their mouths They were heavy and with great difficulty he managed to carry them to the main hatch ... He tried to open the hatch but his attempts failed He kicked, knocked and banged hard... A veteran sailor, he knew a lot about hatches and doors He tried every possible trick... but the hatch remained closed... He began to suffocate... And then he heard a voice... It was my fault...I'm the culprit... I never thought a visit to the surface would have such disastrous consequences...
The mermaid had regained consciousness, but she barely spoke a few words and stopped breathing... No one was going to rescue him from the capsule... He had killed over a dozen innocent souls... And now it was his turn to die He would die... with those bags full of precious stones, gold and silver in his lap...