The Evening Train

Take me home on the evening train…
Where I can hear the laughter
And the song of the road again

I have long waited for oblivion…
Blissful…peaceful…
Flying on the night bird’s wings

Maybe, I waited for too long…
But, I was walking all alone…
And, listening to the man who sang of trains…

Perhaps, I make no sense…
Like the foggy winter morning….
Of cold coffee…tears and rains…

Yet, I know I am tired…
And, I have hurt you, my dearest one
But, am coming home to make it up to you again…

I hope you forgive me…
Hope you know I lost my way…
Lost my soul to the man daring to say Imagine…

Can you tell her I am coming home by the evening train?
Maybe, she will look out of the window
For one last time….again…

Rain Messenger's Diary 16...Letter to Annie 5

Dear Annie,

I created a new mail id today. Nothing special or out of the ordinary and I realize it doesn’t really make as impressive an opening line as “Call me Ishmael” but I never claimed to be Herman Melville anyway. However, such exercises can sometimes be an amazing experience albeit completely unexpectedly. When I clicked on an innocuous looking option which allowed me to link my previous id with my current one, hardly did I know that this would make me embark on a journey that was cathartic as well as blindingly painful at the same time.

What that simple looking innocent option did was draw all the mails from my old inbox, from the oldest to the latest, to the new inbox. This was at a very slow place I might add, allowing me, jobless as I am, to read some of those mails from the dinosaur age.

You might by now be wondering that I must have run of things to say and out of sheer desperation am writing about something as mundane as creating a new mail id, you are not completely wrong I have to admit, but fortunately there is another aspect to it which hopefully saves my face a bit. The idea behind this letter is to ask how exactly do we deal with these shadows called memories? As, has been oft repeated and famously stated, boxing with your shadow while might be a good way to improve your boxing skills, is not very fruitful if you are looking for a result in the match. The point of this letter is to pose a question to us as to what do we do with these pieces of our lives, which are a part of our being…part of who we are and where exactly do they fit in into our future? How exactly are you supposed to react when after almost three years you suddenly see an old picture that was mailed to you by a friend and at that time had seemed to be the greatest gift to you, but now it’s too heavy for you to bear or when you read a mail that a love-struck you of yore had written confident in the knowledge that finally you have found what you have been looking for or reading a mail from her telling how you mean the world to her and realizing that they have all been lies.

Once again unfortunately I find myself writing a letter to you full of unanswered and perplexing questions. I am not sure why, as I am not about a lot of things in my life, so guess that is not a surprise to you.

There are times I feel we come at a place in our lives where we believe that we have left certain things behind us, yet, there they are separated by a thin veil waiting to disrupt our new routines. This uncertainty is disconcerting…it’s like discovering a rotten skeleton while looking for treasure. Yet, that is nostalgia isn’t it?

I write this letter with the hope that memories haven’t darkened your brow and your heart is not heavy with the past.

With all my love,
Rain Messenger

A letter for you

I would like to say I miss you…
Maybe, even that I love you…
But, the dawn is foggy and you are far away…
And, it’s not the time yet

I wish to say you swept me off my feet
One thin little wild gypsy beat…
Tell you, that I drowned in your eyes…
Yet, I know I would only scare you away

What if, we had met before…
Perhaps shared a coffee or a few words…
What if I could have said this with my eyes deep in yours…
What if…

Time changes everything and covers old wounds…
Till we forget it's still raw inside
Now, it’s blown wide open…
And, all I have is a letter for you

I wish I knew what to say…Wish you felt differently…
Wish I was not so afraid of losing you…
Wish you knew how I feel…
But, here I am guitar…letter…me

Her Song

She sang to me…
From the corners of the night
Slow…Deep…Scared…
She called out to me

There was pain that forged her…
Music that cradled her
And, a veil
A long black veil…

She sang to me…
From the depths of my soul
Like the lover, professing his love…
Tentative…Frightened…Brave…

A life that was…
For, a rose that trembled
Rain that embraced her
And…a love…

She sang to me…
From beyond the shadows
Freeing me yet binding me in chains…
And, she sang…about the long black veil

Hunger

The night calls out to me
From the voids of the great unknown
Slow…seductive…silent
I walk…I keep walking

Hunger burns with renewed fervor
Burying all else beyond comprehension
I look around hoping to see light…
I see the night…I look for food

I refuse to return to reality
I walk in a haze…somnambulating while awake
I look to buy a smile on my mother’s lips
I wonder what to trade for the right to survive…

The mind wanders…
Like the restless wind lost in the concrete jungle…
I see neon, music and a drunk world heady with success
While I look for life in the leftovers

I sit for a while in the pavement…
The parched lips finally wet with my own blood
Slowly the night takes me in its arms…
Sleep…Silence…Peace…

Early Morning Flight

The bejeweled night silently sighs…
Tired of being a silent spectator
Of glorious uncertainties…
And a maze called life

The sun slowly rises…
Over the foggy, winter morning airport
Promising to be bright to light my way…
As, I prepare to plunge into the unknown

There is precious little I leave behind
There is not much I look forward to…
Yet, I am afraid to lose this pittance…
Impatient, Restless…looking for answers to unasked questions

As, the clouds kiss the wing tips
I remember the warmth of my princess’ lips
I wish I had held her longer…
I wish she had not let me go…

I am scared we will run out of things to say…
Afraid that you will need me no more…
For I know not why I can’t resist you…
Unsure why you chose to find me

The seven horses of dawn pull away…
As, morning takes its place
And, I bid you adieu, mi reina
In a hope you will understand my love someday…

The Stranger

The last dregs of coffee...
Drained from the lonely cup…
And, as I get up to lose myself in the world, again
I stumble on the threshold of her eyes…

An eternity passes between us,
While the world measures seconds…
I hang on to every inconsequential syllable…
Hoping to hear some more

Walking away is hard yet necessary…
As, I bury hope, trying to forget the stranger…
But, she finds me
In the mess of an electronic mesh

The unsure, tentative steps…
Lead to long late night chats…
As, we talk of life and chrysanthemums...
While, welcoming the birds home

The future’s uncertain…
The afterglow of the setting sun…
Burns like fire..
While I wonder, does it mean anything?