Quite a few stories are narrative in style, imageries piling up, increasingly reflecting the complexity of perceptions. Chan clearly questions, “Has the world always been like this, both insane and chaotic, only he has not seen it as it actually is until now?” This is the theme of the book. Anguished ponderings on the chaos in our minds, purpose, and meaning of our lives, as we try to find a place as friends, lovers, and social beings.
Far from civilization, in extreme weather conditions, no connectivity, living each day in disciplined rhythm, probably the soldiers also wait for the colourful, boisterous tourists to arrive at their sentinel!
Tiny tots like him walk to school on weekdays with siblings, trotting dangerously along the edge. It is scary but they look unperturbed, their cheeks red under the clear mountain sun.
The fragility of the aged, raciness of the illicit, achiness of nostalgia and aging bones, the darkness of lust, tender cares of motherhood, the inevitability of fading youth, travails of escapism, and troubled demons of haunted pasts – each story is woven to create an elaborate tapestry.
I walked the obscure pathTraversed distances, aloneI doubted myself, lonelyCraving for company;At the end of the rainbowI searched high and lowMagical messages to know“It is okay to be on your ownTo make choices, unknownFor in silence, growsThe strength of souls!”
I sieved the starsThrough my fingersThey fell on the groundNow, sparkling dust!The mist from my eyesMingled in the glassThe shimmer flowedInto oceans and seasLuminescence washedTo the silver beach,I picked up the shardsOf the broken stars.One with the sandBy the shores I standCrystal dreams in my handI clutch them to the bosom,The roaring skies demandThe glitterContinue reading “Starry Visions”
A surge in my veinsThrobbing templesBurning sensationOf rising resentmentHelpless, I seeMen in power beReckless, remorselessStirring uprisingsWhere anger isDirected to fellowsWithout folly, sans flawSo, fingers do not point,To merchants of war!
Hidden, unspokenBehind a facadeOf the daily grindChores to keep the mindAway from the surgeOf emotions unheard.Latent they layWaiting for the dayTo capture their preyRip apart the semblanceOf holding it togetherStronger they growThe more you ignore!
I wrote this before 2019 – a different context & mood – when we did not know about a pandemic waiting to be unleashed. Macabre, how true these lines are today, as we battle second wave of Covid19 in our country. I see darknessBloom from withinSprouting like deadly fungiAsphyxiating our breathKilling our sensesWith neon dosesContinue reading “Despair”
I see the blossomIn your hair witherFrom morn to duskThe petals are nowBrown as twilightIn the evening trainBack from work