In Two days

In two days I turn twenty nine;

today I pick up my diary and leaf

dog eared pages to go through

memories I had long since buried.

My fingers type unaccustomedly in blank verse

on the keyboard, as I attempt a poem,

Again.

After a long, I mean really long time.

Not about tear jerkers, not about the love

that cheated and died, not about

being human, or being a doctor,

but a list of the things, I want.

I want for my birthday.

At twentynine, I wake up from a long,

unbroken dreamy sleep that wakes me up

with the corners of my mouth stretched,

the kind of smile, I used to get on my face,

when I dug up cashews hidden by my mother.

I want a long bike-ride, behind some person I

can hold close to me, someone who

would understand that meaning of

' driving to the point of no return'

doesnt necessarily mean we would die

at the end of the ride.

I would like to as well, watch a movie that

would wrench the last tear drops of my eyes,

and not have someone looking at me and thinking

'What an emotional fool she is !!! ', while sympathising

with me.

I would, like to go looking for tigers

with my brother, in the forests of Rudraprayag and

Kumaon, where I wandered as a child

in the fantasies of the Jim Corbett books my

brother gave me to read when I was eleven...

I would, like to cook up a meal,

an American chopsuey or a veg-au-gratin

with the cheese perfectly cooked, and red wine

and sit with my friend ( a girl this time)

discussing MBBS headaches and films.

I would, I wish, spend

one quality day with my family, one whole

day that goes just right, set in the nineties..

when I was just the age that was right.

Or spend a present day in the present time

wearing my FCUK t-shirt that says

FCUK 1972

( The year my parents got married !!! )

And well, they cannot 'see' the difference.

I want to turn back the hands of time,

to walk with someone with feet filled with blisters

someone who I would know, would last even till

a bitter truth than a convenient lie.

Someone for whom my respect shall

start, continue and grow, until

the deepest honor and lust of

a beautiful feeling.

Love.

And also to go, with someone, get drunk,

on the dancefloor, and release,

every memory in my mind in one drunken

fever,with someone close to me

I can trust even when I absolutely let go...

fully knowing that

when I wont be able to stand up on my legs anymore,

someone will carry me home...

back to the incredulous safety of our confines.

Or to go on with a black t-shirt with dinosaurs

painted in front, to my English teacher,

who would unabashedly stare at my boobs, but

would actually be reading aloud

"Triceratops"

And I would love it he got the name right.

I wish I could go on a ride

on my bike, when the monsoon would lash in

Cuttack, and would race the train till my house

grinning that I beat it..

and would dance the night away with

Channel V hits and my cousin sister.

Also watch all horror movies with my hands crossed,

and when electricity fails, run to the loo,

hands between my legs,

failing miserably before I reach the door.

At twenty nine, I know,

none of this will happen.

I will possibly have a long day to lie on the bed,

dream about all the contorted truths of the poem that

has actually happened..

and then get back to life

which is good neverthless

And read up a book on Neuro.