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Showing posts from January, 2013

Transparency is Sin - Snippets from a Life

1 Biography should begin from that coffee mug you toss against the evening sky and the ocean below, As you fall out of love. 2 The letter i wrote to my uncle when I was just four had a wrong address I was happy when it came back for, I knew it had come back meeting my uncle  and the doll would follow. 3 Men I loved didn't love me back  or vice versa but every now and then, I tried to patch up with a chanced opportunity May be, like the lizard rushing through the sunset seascape on my bedroom wall to catch the fly like comma the flight of seagulls  crossing the canvas. 4 My first love in school was a christian boy whom I hated, while he loved. But, I remember writing  a rather long philosophical treatise on the politics of social disharmony and personal threats in the condition of being in love with a catholic boy with regard to future prospects of food and shelter. that was an eye opener I ne

The Seventh Wave

Some fears are like the seventh wave, They hit hard, even while you play card games of distant memories, Narcissist moves of redemption, on a silver moon shore. They visit in sleep,  when you travel along those narrow streets of closed windows and collaged walls.  As I move uneasily on my bed,  not dreaming of blue eyes, but moving away from the body that smells of my origin chasing the  Pecola   of my nakedness, I stumble upon, conveniences sunlight midnight amnesia silence folktales mythology the genome project flames from self-portraits, or occasional lightening flashing across my windowpane. With a history, that will survive me, of doubts, deliriums and darlings, war bodies of guerrilla front, I won’t sleep again this night or in another era. Pecola : The protagonist of The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison