11 June 2008

Moon Songs

Midnight pen and paper love stories have been on a long humid vacation. Tonight, it's raining. I will write. The spiral in my head wants a rest, but it keeps on spinning, singing to the vanishing eye. My heart is palpitating like the pushing and pulling of tides in a vast ocean. The dim bulb is flickering, and humming: when what I cherish dies, love alone stays. For the miles we are apart and the trains that drag us closer to each other, there is a song. The moon usually sings it to us when we take a break from the road and sleep on the shore of our tides. The beat bellows into our deaf ears. Tonight, I am learning to listen to my tides, and the spiral in my head. I am learning to restart a childhood and eat mangoes in the middle of a night. I am learning to climb and fall off bunk-beds. I am feeling alive. I am breathing. I can hear the purple sky dance with the moon and the dark green mango leaves. I can sleep and snore. I can sigh. I can love. Lovely!

1 comment:

joel suganth said...

Moon songs- i like.
mangoes at midnight- i like also
childhood- i like the memories i made out of it.
its strange how words can be so exciting and wonderful in such a way a sentence cannot be.
after reading this post, i remember certain words in it that makes me feel wonderful..
( .... and estha smiled loudly)
(..A roy wrote that)