I remember the day we first met –
as vividly, as if it was only yesterday.
Only – it isn’t, like I am ruthlessly reminded
by every minute since you’ve gone away.

Gone away to that timeless, rootless place,
feared by those of us who remain earth-bound.
Leaving me alone – with my now useless senses,
in a world bereft of your touch, smell or sound.

My mind obediently brings up your memories…
Memories people tell me I have to unlearn.
But the addict within me instead snorts on them,
craving for more, never ceasing to yearn.

I often dream of a cataclysm –
an extinction of this world unfilled by you.
And the birth of another one with only us in it –
swooning in each other’s existence anew.

I search for your voice – or at least a whisper,
in the noise that this deafening silence makes.
To speak to me and tell me that it’s okay,
to drown my pain in these heartaches.

Like an ocean wave on the shoreline of my eyes,
A flood of tears rises and falls each day.
And through the prisms of those tears, I see
an otherwise colourful world turn grey.

They say I have become forgetful –
that I misplace things and forget names.
But I remember my entire world burning,
The day your body went up in flames.

I remember the shape its smoke made that day –
the shape of a hand waving a silent goodbye.
I remember not lifting my eyes off that smoke,
till it rose up and became one with the sky.

I remember the warmth of your touch,
melting the iciness of my frozen heart.
I shudder now in this unsympathetic cold,
that has set down again when it saw you depart.

I sometimes still feel that touch…
In the gentle breeze that first caresses my face.
Then tickles down my neck like you used to,
Over my chest like you let your fingers trace.

I remember our first dance together –
and my trembling hands holding your hips.
I remember sinking in your breathtaking beauty,
and resurfacing with a kiss on your lips.

Somewhere in my mind, we’re still dancing –
oblivious of fate’s audacity to interrupt.
Somewhere inside me, you continue to rumble –
as a volcano of emotions threatening to erupt.

I remember that you weighed just right enough,
So I could carry you over in my arms.
I remember resisting just weak enough,
to be happily bowled over by your charms.

I remember that you stood just tall enough,
for your curves to slot perfectly in my embrace.
I remember staring at you just long enough,
to map the purpose of my life on your face.

I remember your eyes telling me stories –
stories, that I spent my entire life reading.
Oblivious of the empty pages and an abrupt end,
to which those stories were deceivingly leading.

In the great mirror of your voluble eyes,
I saw myself fragmented and yet whole.
I loved how beautiful I looked inside them,
Camouflaged within the backdrop of your soul.

I remember our first quarrel – a one-sided affair,
You soon had me eating out of your hand.
At your irresistible best when you were sulking,
I merrily placed myself under your command.

I kept fighting and losing just to win your love –
And though you knew it, you readily took the bait.
I never knew I would be asked to make the cruelest flip,
Between losing to you and losing you to fate.

I remember the exact shade of pink you turned into,
When I knelt down and asked you to be my wife.
And how eternities passed in the four agonizing seconds,
Before you answered with the word that changed my life.

Moments with you that I had once taken for granted –
because I thought there were many more to come.
Moments that my miserly mind now keeps counting,
Wishing that if needed, it could conjure up some.

When I think of those delicately cherished moments,
I feel like I am alive and young again.
On the parched and barren lands of my heart,
Those moments fall soothingly as god-sent rain.

In the pause between the pace of my breaths,
I rage at the blasphemy of the air…
That flows in with each breath and pilfers a place,
That you once filled but is now left bare.

I don’t know which of us is more selfish –
You, for leaving me – abandoned and alone.
Or me, wanting to cage you again in my love,
Back from the serenity to which you have flown.

All I ask for is another kiss, another hug…
Another smile, another day – just one more!
Just another chance to hold your hand,
And accompany you, through the trap-door.

Lest I carry anything more than my emptiness,
I am stripped and searched wherever I go.
But that you still fill those empty spaces,
No one but me shall ever know.

I stare at the place you used to lay your head,
Now – just a wet pillow, watered by my tears.
I wish I could wrestle time and turn it around,
And relive every single one of those precious years.

Every night I fight sleep till it overpowers me,
Dragging me away from your thoughts.
Weary of the line that has now become my life,
I wait fervently for the final few dots.

I feel invincible in the shadow of your love,
Past breath, past death – it still endures.
Waiting patiently for His call to come, so
I can be once again – and this time, forever yours.


NISHANK MEHTA  |  03.06.2016

Sign Out

sign out.jpg

Too long and too silently have I suffered,
from this punishment, the world calls life.
The only escape I now know and seek,
is in the glistening blade of my knife.

Why did they invite me to enjoy the world’s spoils,
when each bit of it was poisoned and cursed?
Why did they pretend to embellish my wretched destiny,
while secretly it was only their fortunes they nursed?

Why was I shown luring mirages of success,
when what was intended for me was ruin and wreckage?
Why was it that I never got to write my own story,
and the one they wrote, opened at the last page?

They answered my blind loyalty with shameless betrayal,
and dissolved my faith in a steaming cauldron of deceit.
At my slightest slip, they came swooping down upon me,
like eerie vultures descending on leftover meat.

Too long I stayed illusioned by their Machiavellian tactics,
and consorted in their brazen acts of transgression.
But, now I can play the masochistic puppet no longer –
too famished am I now to battle this depression.

The world is free to hate and despise me,
for the road I take is laid with a defeatist’s tar.
But let those chance few who loved me, know
that but for them I wouldn’t even have made it this far.

The world hasn’t been completely unkind to me,
and I do have some sweet memories to carry yonder.
There were indeed a few alleys of unscathed happiness,
and in them will my surrendered soul silently wander.

This paper will now patiently wait on the side-table,
and announce my decision to take the long journey back.
And the last line this unfortunate hand will ever write,
will be a thin crimson one across my neck…


NISHANK MEHTA  |  14.08.2009


Death Warrant


Alzheimer Patient

I have never been accused of cowardice –
My heart and soul are drenched in courage.
I have vanquished men more gifted than me,
But alas! Here’s a war I can’t dare to wage.

I have no complaints to fling heavenwards,
No painful regrets or remorse to swallow.
But I feel terribly lost – in this darkness,
that shrouds the path I am destined to follow.

I can feel it lurk stealthily nearby…
I can hear it taunt me to stage a fight.
But how to wrestle when you have already lost?
Where to flee when there’s no escape in sight?

Alzheimer’s – they have a rather fancy name for it,
an invincible killer with a ruthless temperament.
While you loiter in the labyrinths of lunacy,
it boldly and briskly builds up its armament.

Perverted senses and frightening memory losses,
leave your cerebral circuitry in a total wreck.
You are unceremoniously warped to a vegetative mode,
as the infernal disease launches a scathing attack.

Even Hippocrates can only sell me false hope,
for nothing seems to work against this devil.
Branded an incurable pathological specimen,
I am left to ponder over my bizarre peril.

My social cognition is slowly fading into a blur,
and I am now just a consumed hospital bed.
If this is how life ahead is going to be like,
wouldn’t I be much better off dead?

Oh Lord! Can’t I have a more graceful exit?
Why this vile twist at the end of the tale?
How can I bear the torture of this painful wait,
as death inches closer at the pace of a snail?

So here I lie – life holding me at ransom,
Head poised against the barrel hole.
Oh! Just pull the god damn trigger…
and lift this curse that imprisons my soul.

Survival stings now as I long for an escape,
from the iron claws of this merciless menace.
Stirring the last dregs of sanity left in me,
I stare ahead into a seemingly endless space.


NISHANK MEHTA  |  28.07.2008