Blister

Atop the crest of my right toe-the big one

There sat a tiny little bump, a blister

They call it.

The black velvet footwear, the culprit

Sat proudly upon my meager shoe collection,    

Its small heel glistening in the florescent white lights of the balcony of my dorm room.

But that heel had much more good associated with it than bad;

The cobbling Mylapore lanes that we strolled through

With tiny painted houses and Ganeshas and little gates and bicycles;

The crisscrossing of my shoed feet

Upon campus stone floors and old sofas

Upon conversations that we fancied to be intellectual

Upon ideas and hopes and dreams and opposing music tastes;

The unsteady balancing of my knobbly, wobbling knees,

After spirited nights and too much laughter and too many tears;                             

The lush green of grassy midnight walks and the calm blue of daytime meanderings,

Of Wednesday nights;

The tripping and slipping of my clumsy self that relied upon these troublesome soles

Troublesome souls

Troubled souls, sometimes.

All for the price of a blister

Atop the crest of my right toe- the big one.

It was worth it.

Place.

Nothing in life can be determined. I genuinely feel that you could be anywhere and be happy, or be at that same "anywhere", and be unhappy. I'm not saying that it's all completely in your hands (though it largely is, yes), but I am saying that where you are doesn't matter. A one way ticket to the States does not guarantee you happiness. Neither does a million dollars. Sometimes, even someone that you love can disappear. Life is not written out. You may do certain things, go to certain places, with the hope that you'll do greater things, be a better person, achieve a greater level of satisfaction, of happiness- and it may all backfire. 

Maybe that's my biggest fear.

Capital Punishment

How much is too much, is my first reaction to any thoughts on capital punishment. But a friend pointed out an interesting point to me today- the punishment must be severe enough to stop other criminals from following suit. When I was told this, it seemed like a very obvious answer that I was surprised I had never thought of. Perhaps I've taken my arguments on relativity and personal opinions too far that I've stopped believing in looking at things objectively..

Timing

I smell the lingering wisps of your love,
I feel electrifying swirls of it.
Like tiny Christmas light bulbs
Lit in the middle of July
It's out of place, unnecessary, scorned.
Not because it lacks beauty or color or shine,
But because it lacks timing;
It's either too late or too early,
And for that, I'm sorry.

Possibilities.

A compilation of the ifs and buts,
A complication- what could have been,
A foggy possibility like no other,
An existence that we can never see.

What we don't know, yes, it wont hurt us;
What we could have known, will it?
What the tides push forth, we know now;
What got lost in the tides, we never will.

Here we are, again.

Drifting between lines, shuffling between roles,
Tip-toeing around what was never ours;
Spiraling, looping, going back to the start,
Reaching out for the non-existent,
And passing by it, letting it pass us by.
Always; go figure.

"Maybe later will be better"

We keep putting off so many things for later, never realizing that there may be no later. I do it so often, so naturally. Not in a procrastinating kind of way, no. I mean, life goals. Like, reading that book, writing that novel. Losing weight, going to Egypt. Falling in love. I put everything off saying that I'll do it later, when the time is right.
There is no right time for these things. It's always now or never in life.