Last Rites

Sixteenth Day it is,

I have painted your room

But feel your presence still

I have changed the bed, moved the furniture

But still unable to live here.

Your footsteps are everywhere.

Your books knowingly smile at me

The last one is unfinished

With your cigar scent on it.

You possible know

All the time

I  use your phone,

In an effort to reach you.

I sit in your room and stare at the ceiling

Wondering what thoughts you had

On that fateful night

All still so surreal, raw, and a knife in my heart.

I have kept your bike

I don’t like anyone else on it.

I have hung a picture of you

In your room, it is painful.

Tonight, I am alone

Missing you at the balcony,

Where you often stood, 

with a smile and cigar

I look up to the sky,

The stars appear to smugly smile

Reminding me of your win

Over our last game of scrabble.

Tonight, I can’t help but remember,

When we were ten and twelve,

How much you loved the Mill on the Floss

And wanted to give it a different ending?

Tonight I know its true when they say,

He only takes the best.

In every snake and ladder

That we played, you hated to lose

You loved to see me cry, and then called me a baby,

But Leaving a game midway was never your style?

Why then have you just left me during halftime,

Until we meet, wherever we meet

It will be my turn to roll the dice

And make you cry.

My Brother and I

My brother and I

In every possible way

Chalk and Cheese,

That’s what we were

My family was my world

The world was his family.

I abhorred politics,

He thrived on it.

Matters around the world were personal to him

Nothing is ever personal to me.

Together, yet so apart.

When we learnt to speak

I chose my words carefully

His words unabridged emotions.

I never bothered to change anyone, except myself

He brought a change in everyone, except himself

 I chose Law,

Law was after him, he mused.

He chose to be a black sheep

To make me the bell weather

He mocked at me for everything he wasn’t

I admired in him for the courage I could only aspire

I eat quinoa, kale and gymmed

He eat from kethels, buharis and peepis and tipped

I counted calories, he counted on the cook

I strived to look young

He embraced aging

I always wanted more

He was content

He loved people in all shapes and forms

I demanded perfect relationships

His friends his lifeline!

We synced in our differences

Together, we were complete

Love for literature we shared

Every year he ensured to bring upon me a non-English author

To tell me English did not belong to the English

He wanted me to quit the corporate job

And take up writing

So I could copy his ideas and compositions

Which I always did and he never objected

He was critical but proud of my compositions

Promised to find me a publisher

My fighter, my Goonda, my strength

My wishes his commands

Without you, Trivandrum and Avittom Road

And the house we lived will lack the sparkle and vigour

What wont I do, to bring you bring you back?

My NorthStar now manifests cosmically

Yet life will never be the same again

All I know is a part of me is lost

Until we meet in another realm

May he find joy, peace and all answers to his questions.