Gloomy Sunday

Sunday is gloomy? –

Oh! I don’t think so.

You must be driven by notoriety

To be so brimful of woe!

Sunday is gloomy! –

I certainly don’t think so ;

The day’s bright and beautiful,

Even without Antonio.

Sunday is gloomy? –

How can it be so?

White flowers, black coaches –

Naught can steep Sunday in sorrow.

Seress, Javor said Sunday’s gloomy –

It would be so much more so,

Were I to pass away abruptly,

Leaving behind darling Antonio.

Oh! Gloomy, gloomy Sunday!

You’re weirdly lethal, you know?

So many have killed themselves

Distressed by your woe.

Oh! Gloomy, gloomy Sunday!

What would the lost souls say,

Were we to celebrate Life

With prayers and candles today?

 

* This poem is inspired by the song, ‘Gloomy Sunday’, more popularly known as the Hungarian suicide song, which is notorious for causing the deaths of more than a hundred people, including its composers –  Rezso Seress and Laszlo Javor, due to its extremely morbid and depressing nature. I’ve personally listened to three different versions of this song, one of them being the Hungarian original and another being the one sung by Sarah McLachlan, besides a third by an unnamed artist; and I found the song very beautiful, though the lyrics are certainly morbid. Of course, I took the precaution of listening to it while I  was at my happiest, since I know from experience that morbid songs coupled with a morbid state of mind is the absolute recipe for disaster. So, if you’re planning to listen to the song, please do so AFTER taking the appropriate precautions. Here are the links for all three versions that I listened to (others are available on YouTube)  :

 

 

FAR AWAY

It’s a beautiful day.

Clouds sail to and fro

Across a sunlit sky.

An occasional light shower

Reminds me of spring,

At the crossroads where

Newborn monsoon meets late summer.

It’s a beautiful day ;

But, with you so far away,

I hardly enjoy it, heedless of

Whether it’s late June or mid-May.

The roads and the trees seem to drown

In the sky’s glistening tears

And the half-hearted sunlight.

It’s a beautiful day ;

Yet, I find no delight

In watching the birds fly home

Across the fading daylight.

I wait for your call, all day,

As I prepare myself

To hang onto every word you say.

It’s a beautiful day ;

But, it grows more beautiful still,

Whenever I imagine you smile

On hearing my delighted squeal.

Words can’t describe how I feel,

On this beautiful day,

When you are so far away.

TEN THOUSAND TIMES

“I love you” –

I hear myself say,

Ten thousand times a day.

In my throat forms

This little knot of love,

Each time I watch you

Leaving, from above.

And I fall hard, for you,

I really, really do,

Ten thousand times a day,

Whether in November or in May.

Ten thousand times I inhale,

Your sweet, heady, male smell,

Caressing your clothes, kerchief,

Or your partly wet towel.

Ten thousand times

Your name I scream,

When, at dawn,

The stars grow dim.

In solitude, tension,

Anger or evasion,

I love you with

A steadfast passion.

And if I were to die tomorrow,

Surely, it won’t be from sorrow –

Dying for love’s a better way,

If I were to die some day.

Ten thousand times will I swear this,

And seal it with a tender kiss.

NaNoWriMo

In less than a week, NaNo begins.

I’m in a frenzy, tidying up things,

Cooking up ideas, scribbling them down

On stray bits of paper, with a constant frown.

I keep snarling at everyone,

I can’t seem to stop yelling

At every single person or thing

That comes within hearing.

I’m suddenly the wicked witch

Of no small renown,

Who chews heads off people and pets

To decorate her crown.

I’m going bersherk, really,

Trying to plan it all;

To write or not to write

Is the question to forestall.

I’m trying to multitask here;

Why doesn’t anybody understand?

I’m so torn between choices –

Poetry, horror stories or a novel grand.

Who can help me decide what to write?

Who’s going to bolster my courage?

Who’s going to save the world

When I go on a writing rampage?

This is certainly the best of times,

It’s also the worst of them,

For I’ll write through sleepless nights

As ideas continue to overwhelm.

 

Darkness and Light

I reached into my darkness

To give way to the light.

Every failing, every slight,

Each weakness and each fright

Helped me swim across the darkness

And glide back into the light.

I surrendered to the darkness,

I didn’t put up a fight;

Just so I could go down under

And rise again out of sight.

Every failure in my plight

I faced with a grim delight;

It helped me tap into my darkness

And rekindle my hidden light.

I’ll have my vengeance yet;

I’ve the will as well as the might,

For I’ve reached into my darkness

To give way to my light.

TRANSVESTITE

What lurks behind his eyes?

Seems to me like a woman’s pain –

The burden of carrying lifelong lies

Amid an urge to live again.

His eyes were once so full of life –

He had family, friends, a thousand dreams;

But now, in this time of strife,

Nobody seems to hear his screams.

So what if he’s a transvestite?

Why should it be so disgusting?

They seem so irked by his delight

And turn chiding eyes upon him.

Life’s been unbearable, of late –

They turn away from him in hate.

With an utterly unabashed lack of feeling,

They engage in petty mud-slinging.

No one tries to cool his sighs

Or cares enough to look into his eyes.

A long, lone path awaits him

Powdered with ashes of departed dreams.

 

ELECTRICITY

I gaze into your eyes

And read everything –

All that you can’t tell me,

All that stuff you’re feeling.

Trust me, I feel the same way;

But, like you, just cannot say.

We’re two lonely, silent souls;

The silence is just taking its toll.

Why must we fear love so?

Why can’t we just let go

Past pains and this loneliness,

Absence of hope and our distress?

Who knows if this love’s real?

Who cares whether we’re ideal?

So many doubts assail me;

Yet I can feel the electricity.

Our stupid, practical minds are fearful

But our hearts can feel each other’s pull.

Amazing, isn’t it, how every time

I claim your breaths, as you do mine?

How our bodies move in perfect sync?

How, when apart, we still share a link?

Whenever we meet, the sparks fly;

Yet we keep wondering – Why?

What say you that we give romance

And this electricity an honest chance?

Maybe it will light up our life

And help us through a sea of strife.

I’d so like us to grow old together

And be buried beneath a quilt of heather.

What is life if we do not dare

To live this love that is so rare?

 

BETWEEN JOBS

I’ve been meaning for some

Time to tell you this –

That I’m out of a job,

That I’ve been dismissed.

I don’t know why –

I don’t know what I did

To so much piss them off.

Do you think I should cry?

Why, oh, why? The days

Were merely crawling by.

I’d too much to do,

And nothing to heal

My wounded soul;

Felt nothing but pity

For my ill-used skills.

Now, at least, I can read up books,

Look for jobs, crack interviews,

Turn down the steam, learn driving,

Write down stuff or try new looks.

Life has been very boring –

I’m only thirty something;

Maybe I can try something new –

Adventure favours only a select few.

I don’t know what’s going on

Inside your head at all –

You’ve been still as a rag doll.

You’re staring at me, looking foolish,

You don’t look happy, but let me finish.

You think this is hard on you;

But, hey, it’s awkward for me too.

If you can’t bear to stay,

Feel free to walk away.

I can take care of my burden –

Just don’t come back all of a sudden;

And we can move on with our lives,

Even give each other high fives.

If we meet on the street,

Don’t beat a hasty retreat.

This phase isn’t here for ever.

So long, then, dear Hoover.

MAGICAL

Tender is the night.

A cool breeze gently wipes

The clinging beads of sweat

Off the night’s tired brow.

You and I sit, lost in

The magic of the moment,

Under the dark boughs.

You stare into the distance

And I steal glances at you;

You think of far-off things

While I think of you.

The music flows into the fountain

And spreads across the garden,

Stirring the flowers in its wake;

Then it creeps up on you and me,

Connecting us, binding us tight,

Like a giant, mesmerizing snake.

ANOTHER CHANCE

Another chance is all I need

To make your heart skip a beat-

A timeless surrender to desire

To set the entire earth on fire.

Another chance is all I need

To make you truly mine for ever;

Another chance to forge a link

Between your water and my fire.

Another chance is all I need

To put to shame the summer’s heat,

When I hold you in my arms in June

Or in a bitterly cold December.

No other reason do I desire

To hold your hand and walk through fire;

For there is no greater power than

The match between water and fire.