• Discontinued

    There are people

    packed with uncertainty

    yet looking perfectly organised,

    like market goods,

    air packed,

    sealed neatly,

    arranged on shelves.

    A random customer enters the shop,

    looks everywhere,

    then asks a staff member

    to find it.

    The staff searches.

    Nothing.

    They call the manager.

    The manager checks the stock,

    the records,

    every entry,

    every shelf.

    “It should be here.”

    So they all start looking again.

    Under the shelves.

    Behind the boxes.

    Between the things

    nobody touches.

    Until finally,

    in the farthest corner,

    where rats and lizards

    have already made themselves at home,

    the customer finds it.

    There it is.

    Still perfectly packed.

    Still perfectly organised.

    Only one problem.

    The date has expired.

    The staff says sorry.

    The manager panics.

    “Why didn’t anyone find it before?”

    Nobody answers.

    The manager checks the records again,

    shakes his head in disbelief,

    and says,

    “Now this product

    will be discontinued.”

  • The Fear of Being Programmed

    I never imagined

    even in my wildest imagination

    that cats and dogs would dance together

    and ducks and chickens would become judges

    Quack quacks

    cucudokus

    horses running

    with branded shoes

    A world

    where nothing seems impossible

    because AI has learned

    how to make everything move

    I once caught a running cat

    and showed him the reels

    He looked at the screen

    then looked at me

    I could almost hear

    the questions growing inside him

    Why are they making us dance?

    Why are they making us run?

    Why are they making us do things

    we never chose to do?

    Maybe he was afraid

    not because I had caught him

    but because he had seen

    what humans were capable of imagining

    I wondered

    if somewhere inside his little heart

    he was thinking

    What if this becomes real?

    What if humans stop asking

    whether we want to do something

    and simply teach the machines

    to make us do it?

    His fear meter kept rising

    So I released him

    He ran

    like someone

    who had just escaped

    from the mouth of a tiger

    Maybe he ran to his friends

    and told them

    Stay away from humans

    They have started teaching machines

    how to make us do things

    we would never do ourselves

    I watched him disappear

    And then I wondered

    Maybe the cat

    had understood something

    before I did

    We laugh

    when AI makes animals dance

    We call it entertainment

    we call it creativity

    we call it progress

    But what happens

    when the creature watching the screen

    is no longer the cat?

    What happens

    when the thing being taught

    to dance

    is us?

    Sometimes I wonder

    unknowingly

    if we are not building

    the cage ourselves

    and calling it intelligence

    if we are not slowly

    teaching the machine

    our own movements

    our own voices

    our own desires

    until one day

    we wake up

    and realise

    the cat was never afraid

    of being captured

    he was afraid

    of being programmed

    And maybe

    that is what

    we should be afraid of too

  • Oh Dear Adriana

    Oh dear Adriana

    neither you sound corny

    nor the cornier is your voice

    you shower me with silver linings

    helped me with my choice

    I enjoyed my isolation

    set myself free

    and the very moment

    I hugged a tree

    I hugged the stars shining over the sky

    I hugged my image reflecting in the mirror

    I loved myself

    in spite of every error

    Oh Adriana

    childlike is our nature

    but we have transformed

    into futile beings

    how can we find passion glimmering

    and profound love

    in everything we are doing?

    Oh Adriana

    you speak like a wise woman

    but you are still

    a curious and wondrous girl

    I wish your thoughts would heighten

    neither would any monument

    be that much taller

    What would I speak more?

    I am a silent bird

    glancing at the river from the shore

    pain resides at my heart’s core

    when I remember my past

    I get lost

    here I find peace no more

    Oh Adriana

    you write to me

    I feel good

    I don’t see you smiling

    but your words do change my mood

    our world may be too dense

    but I feel like

    we are from the same wood

    Oh Adriana

    we fight over race

    religion, caste

    don’t know when will these prejudices last?

    Trees may be different

    but every leaf will wither away

    time doesn’t care

    it travels so fast

    the world is a beautiful place

    but why is it woven in complexities

    that seem so vast?

    Oh dear Adriana

    I am not bound by philosophies

    you and I

    we are all bound by time

    I know we have distances

    geographical distances

    but we are together

    like a non-composed rhyme

    This is the poem I wrote for my pen friend Adriana from Mexico. I considered her my sister, although we always called each other friends. I wrote this poem on 24th March 2015 and sent it to her by email.

    I honestly don’t remember how I met Adriana. We might have met through a Yahoo Messenger chat room or Hotmail, where you could randomly search for an ID and start talking to strangers. Somehow, among all those random people on the internet, we found each other and kept talking.

    Adriana was in college at the time and I was a teenager in college too. We used to talk about our cultures, colleges, families, and whatever was happening in our lives. We were young, living in two completely different parts of the world, but somehow we became close.

    Looking back at the poem now, I think it represents that simple connection we had despite the distance between us. It was about friendship, growing up, understanding ourselves, our cultures and the world around us. There is also a lot of innocence in it. We were just two teenagers who happened to meet somewhere on the old internet and, for a while, became an important part of each other’s lives.

    Adriana and I haven’t been in touch for a very long time. We’re still just one email away, but somehow, I don’t feel like reaching out anymore. I’m not as open as I used to be. This poem reminds me of that younger, more innocent version of myself, and I think, in some ways, I’ve managed to hold on to that part of me.

  • Another Galaxy

    A meteor dropped in my head

    a burst of lightning

    galactic eyes

    I got automated

    beyond the Milky Way

    two stars collided

    opened a portal

    to another dimension

    two moons collided

    like two angry heads

    rays of hatred spread

    negative energy

    channelled through space

    satellite down

    signal disrupted

    earthly people said

    they are dead

    without the network

    distressed hearts

    talking about love

    polluting countries

    talking about clean climates

    hypocrisy

    at its peak

    another meteor

    struck my head

    and for a moment

    I forgot Earth existed

    I was somewhere

    beyond the Milky Way

    watching another planet

    destroy itself

    while talking about peace

  • One Genuine Person

    Please don’t ask me the same question again.

    My answer will be the same.

    You can paraphrase it,

    rewrite it,

    decorate it,

    put flowers around it.

    Still the same answer.

    Raw.

    Straight.

    I am considerate enough

    to ask someone

    if they would share

    even a pinch of salt.

    So don’t ask me

    to pretend I enjoy

    watching someone dance nonsense

    just because the song is good.

    They are devaluing the song.

    And all the drama,

    the tantrums,

    the little performances

    people put on for each other,

    I don’t see the beauty in them.

    I find them mundane.

    The way some people

    find one spare minute meaningless,

    then somehow

    make a whole day out of being lazy.

    I work hard.

    I have my ethics.

    But I don’t want anyone

    to become like me.

    I don’t want followers.

    I don’t want blind supporters

    who grin and say yes

    while I’m standing there,

    then wait until I leave

    to say everything

    they were too afraid

    to say to my face.

    Keep the crowd.

    Give me one person

    who means what they say.

    One person

    who doesn’t need to perform

    when nobody is watching.

    And if there isn’t one,

    I’ll sit alone.

    I would rather hear

    the silence around me

    than listen to people

    orbiting me

    for nothing.

    Just be considerate.

    Be thoughtful.

    That’s all.

    I do have a heart.

    And contrary to what

    my silence might suggest,

    it hurts.

  • The Last Passenger

    Every day

    I looked for a fellow traveller

    someone who would sit beside me

    and stay until the destination

    but before we could get there

    so many had already

    stepped off

    one left me alone

    and I was afraid

    to let another one aboard

    so I thought

    maybe this is how it is

    maybe life

    is a journey

    I have to travel alone

    Still

    people kept getting on

    one after another

    bringing their faces

    their voices

    their stories

    and somewhere along the way

    I began to understand

    love

    affection

    perhaps they are only bonds

    we tie around ourselves

    a quiet attraction

    that makes us believe

    someone will remain

    The faces of every traveller

    I let close to my heart

    keep moving inside me

    even after they are gone

    And I learned

    that the deeper I become friends

    with someone on the journey

    the harder it becomes

    when they have to leave

    Some travellers

    even promise

    I will travel with you

    for a long time

    but life has its own stations

    and one day

    even they must get off

    Because the heart

    does not always get to choose

    when one heartbeat stops

    the other is left

    listening to its own silence

    So now

    I want to keep some distance

    from every kind of attachment

    I do not want

    this merciless time

    to leave me helpless

    in front of another departure

    Let people come

    let people go

    I have learned

    not every passenger

    is meant to reach

    the final station with me

    Because somewhere

    beneath all these roads

    all these faces

    all these departures

    there is another journey

    one no one else can travel

    the journey within

    and on that journey

    I am alone

  • Roll Camera Action

    Why are you so dramatic

    You are not in a theatre bro

    come back to reality

    come back to your life

    Look at you

    It cost you fucking 2000 dollars

    to fix the roof of your house

    Water can come through the ceiling

    while you dream of sailing

    on a luxury yacht

    You might wake up

    and find your bed

    floating on water

    So come back to reality

    You are not going to land

    any roles in Hollywood

    Freaking not

    Come back man

    Look at you

    with your plump body

    and expressionless face

    You get stuck in dialogues

    you haven’t sharpened yourself

    haven’t honed yourself

    Like the strugglers

    who sleep outside the doors

    of casting directors

    record producers

    You haven’t queued for anything

    If someone throws a bottle at you

    you just take it to the head

    Crash

    More pain

    No brother

    Wake up

    You need to catch that bottle

    Fill it

    with your passion

    And pour it out

    when the time comes

    Tick

    tick

    tick

    Oh

    Here’s the time

    Shoot it

    Roll

    Camera

    Action

  • Nothing Left to Lose

    Here

    take this hat

    the hat you liked

    Then he opened his hand

    and gave it to his friend

    his friend smiled happily

    and said thank you

    And just as his friend was about to leave

    he stopped him again

    Here

    take this watch

    Now he was at ease

    I do not want to remain

    bound by time

    After taking off the watch

    and giving it to his friend

    he pointed outside and said

    My shoes

    are expensive and good

    they fit your feet

    take those too

    I have nowhere

    left to go

    After giving you

    that last pair of shoes

    there is nothing left

    for me to lose

    I will sit here peacefully

    and practise my meditation

    If anyone asks about me

    please tell them

    you don’t know

    Then

    he entered the cave

    and disappeared

    along with

    the silence inside

  • The Mirror Went Quiet

    if only

    i was there

    in your picture

    not missing

    not exactly

    just somewhere

    between the people

    and the colour

    of tomorrow

    the world asked me

    why so many reflections

    i said

    which one

    it said

    yours

    i looked

    there were more dreams

    than faces

    more bubbles

    than windows

    more things

    i could not absorb

    without becoming

    one of them

    so i kept them apart

    the reflection

    from the body

    the body

    from the name

    the name

    from the person

    who kept answering

    to it

    the heart

    did not belong

    to anyone

    it was only there

    beating

    like an unopened room

    and still

    the sky

    would not open

    clouds kept changing shape

    bird

    mountain

    door

    your face

    nothing

    again

    the clouds knew

    but never informed me

    how strange

    to watch the future

    changing costumes

    above your head

    while tomorrow

    stood somewhere else

    waiting

    i looked behind me

    and behind me

    was another me

    then another

    then another

    a long snake

    of backs

    carrying reflections

    that had forgotten

    their bodies

    i tried to call mine

    but my voice

    returned

    wearing someone else’s face

    no

    i said

    no no

    not that one

    not that reflection

    not that tomorrow

    then the mirror

    went quiet

    and for the first time

    nothing looked back

  • The Last Piece

    There once was a boy on a bridge

    who gave his first love a little pledge

    She tore it apart

    and broke his young heart

    while the wind laughed softly along the bridge

    The scraps fluttered loose in the air

    like pale little birds disappearing somewhere

    He reached for each piece

    but the wind would not cease

    and carried his words through the cold evening air

    One scrap bore love

    written in his trembling hand

    It rose like a leaf

    from the riverbank sand

    danced through the sky

    then drifted nearby

    and followed her home

    He watched where she stood

    He wondered if she would read every line

    or let his words fade like rain on a sign

    Her silence stayed cold

    her heart remained closed

    and something in him grew quiet with the evening

    He crossed the bridge

    with the scraps he had found

    while the river below

    whispered under the ground

    The wind took the rest

    and carried his plea

    leaving his first love behind

    where she stood

    and one small piece of him

    somewhere in her hair