a dark grey

They say they look perfect together...
two of a kind hand in hand...
nobody asked her if she felt perfect with him
or if he saw her as perfect ....
he kept on saying he is perfect with or without her,
she didnt care if he isn’t perfect

she never believed in idea of perfection...
she would wish to be admired as anybody would
she did all the admiration and got none
assumed all admiration from him are silent
and accepted all those silent moments as admiration....
believed he knew only good of her....

he knew he is great cause she said so
he knew he could do great cause so the setting was
he knew he is admirable cause that’s the only way he knew
he knew she could be perfect... if only
she could dance like H.... laugh like A
walk like N and be a bit more professional like V

and thus spilled the beans...
he wouldnt know whats wrong...
she would never tell him
but for her he is long gone
cause she would ever dance, laugh,
walk, talk or be professional like anybody else but herself...

so she walks out alone... as herself...
even though its dark... as dark as the darkest grey
and him left behind mimicking endless greys
in illusion of white against a darker grey
cause ther are no whites or black
but endless shades of grey...

stumbled....

I found myself starring at her gait.... aimlessly without any recollection or cognition of what I was looking at and what she meant to be.... is she the same.... as she approached me....the thought lingered till it found pronunciation.... a profound one mixed with disapproval of what I was looking at..... But something told me she was the same....
The distinct smile.... distinctively different curl of those lips now disfigured still made a gesture which was so unique... yes she was the same girl i am acquainted with for over 5 months now....she who took me somewhere called her home,... treat me with happiness and laughter... almost out of the blue...and the blue faded with each passing day between us....
Is she the same her... whom I called this morning or it was her who called me... and I didn’t even realized what’s wrong... all I could get was...she wasn’t well....and she wish to see me urgently and immediately... I left home in hurry... dressed most peculiarly as i always do I looked out of place in the setting... the beggar joker persona I was making wasn’t apt to meet someone in pain... she told me there was a fight and also that she is hurt... but then it never occurred to me that the hurt is physical as well as much it was emotional....
And it was not the usual emotional disturb that a lady faces when center of her universe starts moving towards some other circle and she tries hard to bring it back to the center she assumes her own.... it was beyond the limit of her trying to bring the center back and had something to do with redefining the circle itself...
And did I get the hint earlier.... did I ever listen to the undertones of seemingly endless sessions of jokes and laughter... for reasons and for irrationality both... and didn’t we enjoy it all with all gusto... I wouldn’t take the credit away from her.... yes she was the one who made it happened... but question remains ... didn’t I realize this coming before....
Maybe when... she first came downstairs and peeped from far.... smiling and waving.... or when she first stood at the side of my drawing board looking at what I made and making intelligent remarks... even when she was cracking joke.... did I see it coming.... when she put that home up piece by piece.... every curtain... every object.... even every sunray approaching her home spelled her name.... did I see it coming when I saw a hanuman idol in the bedroom... and the careless remark that “icon are what we made of them ... so it doesn’t matter whether its hanuman or cupid which is placed there....” did I see it coming...
How could I not... see her crying through her jokes... yelling for help through her remarks and looking for my hand through her laughter.... wasn’t I also equally responsible for what I saw this morning... wasn’t I was involved in what happened last night... however distantly...

diurnation still

In her diurnation and sleep walk, somniloquied the name...how he tickled her existence... less she knew of herself till ....
as his lanugos brush her... and slowly he covers her as cloud.... and it poured...The shy in her lost the meaning when the day broke while she felt aroused in darkness of night.... and she rose up to a surcingle intact.