Friday, June 02, 2006

Missing you

Cold vapor breath on air revealed
I'm Missing You

Have you ever felt like me? Strange and revelled in someone’s craving thought. In my mastery of the most exquisite eyes I have ever come across on the terrestrial ball -- called earth. Or someone's mastery over me. Or is it some kind of phantasmagoric magic? Misty. Mostest. Mine!

I'll be 26 in four months. Already swollen with life. I feel raw as exposed flesh. What generation must we be, unable to rein in our longings? The MTV gen, as academics prefer to designate those born between 1975-1985. I don't know what on earth has possessed me. I lie and wait for someone to amble across in my life. Slither the flocculent finger slowly upon my brow. My heart pounds in my ears. God, I miss the lone conqueror of five evils. I really do!

The mink feeling tugs at me in the strangest of places – for example in the middle of an interesting conversation or while I am driving – in level 5 – at 90 miles/hour. It shakes me to my innards. Makes me feel like a naughty child who greeds for his share of pie. Something vibrates in me with a living pulse. What that – something is – I can’t tell. Yet it oscillates. Like my dad’s traditional German wall clock that has been cheeping every hour ever since I’ve grown up.

Last night as I drove back home, globs of new rain streamed on my windscreen. In the middle of a cruel summer. Slanting silver ropes slammed into loose earth, ploughing it up like gunfire. A dark sky suggested some storm was building up nearby. In my heart a tempest raged. My hand released the steering and moved to the ubiquitous cell phone. Searching for the button. Clicking it and then letting it go!

I can’t be weak. I can’t seem to allow myself being too schmaltzy. Yet I miss. The rain continued to fall. I could go straight or I could take the next turn home. My heart beat at million thuds a minute. The pulse quickened. The grass outside the tinted glasses of my car looked wet-green and pleased. Trees bent.

I drove home. I am strong. I can go slow. Yet I miss like hell.



Wafa, 22, Jordan said...

Your political commentary makes no sense to me. Your economic analysis reads like greek to me.

This is where you score. Pouring of your private thoughts, sharing them with us. You not only score, you impress. You are too good at this.


anjali said...

I agree with wafa. Give me sam, the poet anyday. I dont dislike your financial-political writings but I thorougly absorb myself in these thoughts of yours.

They are wild, youthful and always beautiful.

mukul, Delhi said...

Very good yar. Nice chic space.

ps sandi said...

thatz good writing -- yeah.

I like the exactness of your words. You are direct and precise. I saw something like this after a while.

mehak said...

an amazing write-up. It tells me that you are so beautiful from within. Also I wish I could express myself so candidly.


Rahul, 24 said...

I forget many things when I sit down to read you here. You make things so less comlicated.
I think it is a powerful tool: To express oneself so lovingly. You express things in the most simple yet stylish manner.


Anonymous said...

Are you in love??????

Samir Bhat said...

Hmm....thats a difficult one.
Am I in love?
Can I ask you something...?
What do you think?
Why you asking?
Who are you?


Fradia said...

baby, thats a nice write-up.



Anonymous said...

maybe i shouldnt comment on what you are writing.. but good writing, sam.. ;)

Raghu, New Delhi said...

Yet again, a jewel from the Prince of the Written Word.

Poet, lyricist, economist, political commentator, bleeding heart liberal and champion of aggrieved people's rights.

Ladies and Gentlemen, friend: the right, honourable Samir Bhat!