A Schizophrenic’s Love Poem

I whip up two coffees

One with an extra spoon of sugar for you

I set it on the table and peer out

Through the cold glass of the window

Pulling the muffler tighter

Almost choking, I loosen it again

I see a figure striding down the driveway

I smile; it has got to be you

Though I see you clearly, I deny your existence

For they say, I see things that cannot be

I get back to my room’s dark reality

I see two coffees getting cold

I sit alone with the two cups

Waiting, waiting for you

I run my fingers along

The patterned silk of the tablecloth

You didn’t like the silk one

I change it to the white laced cover

Though I hear the creaks clearly

I deny your existence

For they say, I hear things that cannot be

I focus on the chair’s broken arm

You don’t like sitting on that one

I switch my chair for yours

I still wait with the two cups

I can’t take in its aroma now

I hear you climbing up the stairs

It won’t be long before you enter

To have a coffee gone cold waiting for you

Though I hear the squeaks of your Nike clearly

I deny your existence

For they say, I hear things that cannot be

I look at myself in the mirror

I still wear the apron with the burn mark

I remove it, lest you should feel it’s dirty

I see you enter my room

You give me that sunny smile

And as you bend down for a peck

I shut my eyes tightly

I spill the coffee

I break the mugs

And I deny your existence

For now I know, I see things that cannot be

Sounds of Silence

This poem has been written for my best friend's little autistic brother Pushkar.

Sitting in a place where silence echoes

And the painting on the wall looms large

Where even the air seems to be making noise

With the little boy in my lap

I try to understand him

Yet, for some reason, I can not

I watch him sit calmly, soundlessly

Mourning the stillness

That speaks of some unknown displeasure

I stare at the mute Casio in his hand

Half expecting it to spring to life

I curse myself for not being able

To give words to his tunes of silence

I look at him again

Into those eyes gazing at some distant land

Not looking into mine

Yet, expecting me to understand

I listen to the muteness that surrounds us

And that stillness tells me that I know him

And I nod; he laughs

And his laughter echoes with the sounds of silence.

I’m still that little girl

Today as I woke up in the morning, my eyes fell on a portrait of Pt. Jawaharlal Nehru in the newspaper that my mother had just placed on my bed. I sat up and read the lines written below it. “Commemorating the 125^th birth anniversary of Pt. Jawaharlal Nehru” I called out to my mum “You didn't wish us mama, today is children’s day.” “Is it 14^th?” she asked returning with a cup. “Oh, then Happy children’s day.” My mother’s casual wish made me smile. I realized that I’m no longer that little girl wearing frilled frocks who would have been given a warm hug and lots of chocolates on this day. I am a seventeen year old now who ought to be content with a casual “Happy Children’s day.”And I was reminded of some of the teachers in school who now need to be told “Sir/Ma’am, It is children’s day today!”

Today as I sit reflecting on those years spent munching wafers and enjoying tangy toffees, I wonder where’s that little girl who would run with Dad around the house if the weather wasn't good enough to play outside? Where’s that girl who would throw a tantrum if asked to wear that red frock. Where’s the girl who would catch as many toffees (chocolaty melody, to be specific) as she could when Dad would throw some into the air asking both of us (me an’ my sis) to catch them (even helping himself to some)? Where’s that girl who would count the number of stars in her notebook? Where’s the girl who would reach school early in order to sit on the flower shaped chair? Where’s that girl who would run around telling everyone that it is children’s day and children really deserve something special on the day?

The little girl inside me today, urges me to be that little girl yet again. I hear her say softly to me “You are still a little girl. Just that you have given in to the norms of the society to behave like a sensible teen. Don’t you want to have those tangy toffees again? Don’t you want to wear those frocks yet again? Don’t you want a treat on children’s day?” And I realize that my taste buds still tingle for that tangy taste (Alas! Those toffees aren't available anymore), I still want to catch toffees thrown in air (I can catch more now; I've got bigger hands, wink. . .) I still want to play stupid games in the rain. I still want to celebrate children’s day with the same gusto. I still want to be that little girl again. And today, I pledge, for this one day, I will be that little girl yet again because I still am the little girl I once was...

A Virtual Image

You are just like my image

Standing in the same stone corridor

With the same depth in those eyes.

Whispering the secrets

I revealed to you long back

And repeat them even now

Loudly sometimes, in my sleep

When I dream of you.

You wear the same dress as I do

Holding a same sized, melting candle in your left.

When I move forward

You come closer too.

Yet, when I try to reach you

My fingers feel cold

Even in the candle light warmth.

I cannot touch you

For there’s a mirror in between.

You are but a deception, a virtual image.

A creepy night

It was a pleasant night. I was sitting in the comforting arms of the sofa by the living room window. The cool breeze was scraping over my face and blowing my hair in all possible directions. The whole house was in a deathly silence. I was alone, reading ‘The Shining’ (Stephen King). The setting was perfect. The distant barking of the stray dogs provided the necessary background sound. Fear had gripped every inch of my body. The book was giving me the creeps! Suddenly, breaking the silent lull of the house and startling me, the doorbell rang. I bookmarked page number 89 and ran to open the door thinking my parents had returned. But, I was wrong! The open front doors revealed a little girl, I had never seen. “Your parents are calling you to that place” She gestured towards some far off house, partially hidden by the huge Banyan tree. “Could you lead me please” I was curious as well as nervous. After fidgeting with the keys for some time, I left with her in a jiffy. The place was dark. “Perhaps the street light is not functional….Common in this street” I said to the girl barely visible in the dark. “Yeah…so, here.” Unexpectedly, she pushed me into the house which I realized was famously known as “The haunted mansion” by the children of the colony. I heard the lock click but my eyes failed me in the dark (a mistake for which I have still not forgiven them and have burdened them with specs!). I mustered the little courage I had and dared to step ahead through what I guessed was the hallway. Somewhere a guitar string was plucked and the vibrating sound after ricocheting off the walls was ringing in my ears. I increased my pace, throwing my arms wildly in all direction to avoid being hit square in the face by some wall. My hand suddenly touched something. I clutched the thing and felt it. Being a biology student I whacked my brain and came to the conclusion that it felt like a bone! I had no interest in knowing whether it was the femur or a broken part of the rib cage and so, I shrieked and dropped it. My heart was beating hard against my chest and I was drenched to the bones in sweat! And then it all unfolded like the plot of a horror film…those strange, eerie sounds made their way to my ears. I started running so fast that I could have won India a gold had I been in the Olympics! The heavy sound of footsteps told me that someone was chasing me. I looked back to make my hair stand on its ends…it was a skeleton. I shouted and ran…getting hit every now and then by a bone flung at me or getting soaked by the blood being splashed (that’s at least what I thought!) I then found the staircase and tried climbing it but wicked witches and skeletons looked down at me with glaring, fiery eyes! I ran for the door, but as expected, it was locked! I turned around to witness death closing its jaws on me! All the skeletons and witches were closing down on me! The sound of the wails and howls pierced my ear drums…but it was gradually dying down…the scene was becoming hazy….I was about to faint and fall when the chorus of “It’s us!” gave me the strength to sit down instead of lying flat on the floor! The lights were flicked on and the skeletons had removed their masks to reveal my parents and friends! We all sat laughing till with my dad’s gesture, the creepy sounds died away and silence enveloped the house once again as we left. I hesitantly looked over my shoulders and saw a skeleton bidding me goodbye. I clutched my dad tighter and smiled to myself as he looked down at me…