THE FORGOTTEN STORIES

I want you to remember The photograph, you loved On the wall, That reminds me Of the last spring Where the potted sunflowers At our home smiled And the hanging creepers Mumbled, Of the girl who was looking For someone. You saw a thousand figures Dancing in her pupils A Mexican woman in Her huipil, A drunken man with his Lyre; Looking for the right Strings,And A peahen waiting to mate. You admired the Vine stems heading North In the picture, The cheap beads that The girl wore And the broken bridge Behind her, From which a fish Jumped for a self introduction. And when you remember Your dear picture, I want to remind You of the Coffee cup that tasted Your lips, The laundry drugged By your smell And the mirrors that Reflected your images. And you should know that The sunflowers no longer smiled And the creepers were silent Till yesterday. But today when The rain sprinkled its drops I see clearly the pupil Of the girl, Dark and intense,

Dear Adaline,  You were a surprise for me.When I first saw you getting out of the yellow cab to purchase the fake IDs, there was something in your eyes and smile. And after a few minutes did I realise that your history of 107 years was buried deep inside your eyes and smile. Your past, present and future finally ends in you,Adaline, the first born baby in San Francisco on New Year's Day of 1908.I see my dopple ganger in your love for history and archives. what made your history different from mine and others was that you perceived the history of decades through your eyes and we perceived it through books.You saw the horrors of wars, the rise of powers, the fall of people,the change in living, the developing cities.And most importantly you learned how to 'let go' I have always wanted to be like you, to stop aging at a beautiful age.As Ellis shares a saying in Italy,"Years, lovers, and glasses of wine. These are things that should never be counted". But you

It's time to sing a song for the unsung heroes.The batman trilogy of Nolan has a lot more to say than just saving Gotham because in a way it's a tribute to all nameless heroes.Yes,and what I see in the movie is not Batman but Bruce Wayne, the unsung hero of Gotham. Wayne's extraordinary journey started with an intention to save Gotham from the corrupted and criminals, a dream that his father could not accomplish.Even though Wayne became an orphan, there were people who really cared for him. And that's why he chose to fight the evil with a mask,not to hurt his dear ones.Butler Alfred, Commissioner Gordon, Fox and Rachel were the major people who always cared for Wayne. And in the third part there was Blake too. But Wayne never wanted his identity revealed, which made him the real hero. By terming himself as an eccentric billionaire, Wayne hid his truth before Gotham.At the end of trilogy,no one is aware that the billionaire who burnt his house and who acted weird at

When I met him, Two wine glasses whispered, The owls shrieked And the Oak tree, With all its strength Resisted and said, "You are not meant to be Together". But I didn't care to Ask why, I didn't care to seek Options, 'Cause there was electricity Flowing through our bodies, The electricity that Could light up the Entire rooms of hell. When we danced together, The ballroom protested to Light up, My heels denied to tap, My eyes denied to connect My frock refused to swirl Saying, "You are not meant to be Together". But I didn't care to ask I didn't want clarification, Because our steps were Synchronized, Our hands were cold, And we were two dead souls In love. When we were kissing, My cells declined to act, All the electrons and protons And neutrons acted weird, A Ferris wheel dismissed To rotate, Saying, "You are not meant to be Together" But I didn't ask how Or searched reasons, Because

When gooseberries ripened Last summer, I kept wandering around Being someone else. Walking barefoot on grass, Watching bumblebees Dashing around from Flower to flower, I learned the summer traits. It was different from the books That I read lying on my stomach. I felt like the hononary Guest Of warm sun. But I was in someone's robes, Walking along the hedgerows With rotten feelings. It was not me, I kept saying myself. Days ago I had packed all My hopes in a tainted cloth and Had thrown it away from the bridge. Flocks of birds mocked at me, The current of waters called me Foolish. But I was drained out, Carrying the burden. And when the hummingbird Woke me up from the reverie, I still felt like someone else. Distant and estranged from Myself. Walking towards the beach, Feeling strangled and suffocated By the new robes, I allowed the breeze to sneak in, Soon did it slip away like rats Abandoning me. But love soon replied, "The waves mak

I stand here facing the horizon, Counting the kisses, Maybe not, maybe yes What are you thinking? My hands are burning Are you still choking? Come, let's stay here a little while, You ,me and your wings of colour. Our loneliness keep us moving, Fail me not in deciphering you You still stay numb and cold Breaking the twigs Making a fuss. Maybe not, maybe yes. I showed you, The twinkling eyes of woodpecker. But you, You made me listen to the songs of nightingale. Maybe not, maybe yes. Your wild smell And the breezy air Is holding me back from return. Your wings of fruits And the choppy waters Are promising a home for me. Your wildness wonders me spilling around me After every drizzle. Come hold my hand, Let me know you, Let me walk along you, Cuddle me close Your blues and greens and yellows And their symphonies Cause the death of my body And float my soul. Maybe not, maybe yes. Your lullabies with nuances Of a spell, Make me guilty. Unleas

Somewhere between love and hate, I created a space to breathe, A space of magic and madness. Somewhere between earth and sky, There remains a time of unconditionals, Where rulebooks and laws are invisible, Where timelessness hovers in the air pridely proselytizing music of another realm. And yes, When my existence lies somewhere Between shackles and wings I run to a space where Tulips never die and Lilies never bloom And then,where will you find me? You will search me in all realms Of imperfection's journey to perfection. But how long can I stay there? I go to the labyrinth of Years of tangled emotions, Where tears get injected to smiles And death to life. Unable to differentiate them, I grow into a tree of knowledge. When the sun grows thicker and brighter, You will find me In the midway between heaven and hell. Standing between bondage and breakage of nature, Baffled and uncertain, Will you be the serpent or the God? A.C