Monday, 30 March 2009

Why didn't you?

The past comes back to haunt us.
There was a time...and I feel surprised to realize that that time is now 10-12 years behind- when I wanted to play the piano. I wanted to play Chopin on the piano. It was an obsession, a frenzy, a dream. It was a desire that was a fire that scorched-burning tears that scalded the cheeks they ran down against-it was a burning desire. I wanted to play the piano. Nothing would soothe this desire-this neurotic narcissus that I was, a plain but sensitive child, a child who cried even more when she heard the musical wailing of violins...for that soothed. The violins were the lyric to the epic of piano. Make what you will of that.

Then I realized that I could never play Chopin. I would always hear. I was reconciled. I grew up. I was too lazy to learn the violin, but not too lazy to listen to-say- Yehudi Menuhin. But sometimes majestic chords would stir something deep within me; like a memory that is the glowing embers beneath the mound of ash. Waiting to erupt with the right breeze. Memories are strange things. Some you remember, some you will yourself to forget. Denial is the deepest river in Egypt. The pianoforte is the instrument that is always on this side of modernity. However, I digress.

I did not realize when the restlessness became neurosis and when the neurosis became psychosis. I did not realize when the glass broke to make a million fragments of me. I did not realize when the rainbow split and merged and forgot me in the process of bringing together that last streak of violet and the last stain of red. I was out of the picture, just as I had never been in it. It was a dream, but then what is a dream? It is not a lie, but it is not reality either. I wish I could tell. But there is nothing to share on this side of the glass, if only I could have stepped on to the other side-before it broke.

I would like to thank my memories, but I also want to spit on them. Today I put on some Chopin. 12 years faded away-dissolved into nothingness- the 8 year old who stared at me, was staring at with me longing and revulsion. No! I said. This cannot be the other side.
She stares. She hates me. She tells me only one thing.

Why didn't you?

Wednesday, 25 March 2009

vicissitudes

One of my curls resembled the nocturne for violin (and piano)…
And then he smiled and stroked my hair. A few tears fell
For the dead departed. The white lilies of the unfamiliar valley
So green, dreamily tranquil, beautiful. And so unwell.

The awakening has come late this century.
The awakening might not come at all but then this canker
Of hideous depths. When shall we learn to love again? Such
Is a life. Vicissitudes in music for which we hanker.

Saturday, 21 March 2009

Perhaps.

Perhaps we laugh
To fill in silences
Perhaps we laugh
To hide the tears
Perhaps we laugh
to see the funny
Perhaps we laugh
and pimp for munny

Perhaps we laugh
to lessen the years.

Thursday, 19 March 2009

and still may we love...

Wednesday, 6 June 2007

In dusty corners of old forgotten attics where memories and broken nostalgia mingle to hate our existence where we met many years ago when the dirt was less but still considerable where we made erotic gestures like batting eyelids and other things there I know you wait endlessly for me but I don’t have the courage to return…

In the cool riverside breeze of the last millennium with gothic pillars and white magnificence there I know you also wait for me to gaze at sinking horizons in the calm serenity of renewed vigour and youth for I know that the river is older than our love…

In the sublime snowscapes of old half-remembered dreams in which snowball fights decided the winner or loser of an unequal match where both parties wanted to make utter hatred in cozy log cabins and blue tinged green veined red cheeks looked like luscious apples…

In the myopic vision of many lost generations who believed that love was immortal splendid sad but did not know how to translate this and got married got disillusioned had children who also did the same whose initial grand visions ended in sordid divorce and they knew not the scope of true love…

In the universe of our many delusions only one thing do I know with certainty that I have loved and my love was true and so did you and we wait for eternity to end so that we can reunite for this bitter joy is what sustains us this never being together this eternal anticipation and constricted feeling at the same time liberating…Thus ends the saga and thus begins it for in our end lies our beginning and we shall meet in those sepia attics and the whiteness until universal darkness shall engulf us in a different understanding
and still may we love…

Posted by ahona at 07:41 16 comments

And yes, I loved him then-and I love him now. For I found him between then. And now.