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And he died

And he died

“Why weren’t you talking to them?”
“I tried, but…”
“But?”
“Look issues aren’t just black and white. It’s not always I screwed up or you screwed up and all that similar jazz.”
“Right. Most of the times it’s we both screwed up and our egos got in the way so we ended up screwing up further more.”
“…ok..”

“Yeah sorry. I kinda drifted from the point. There is NOTHING that you cannot talk out man.”
“Well, genius, wake up! Sometimes there are things that cannot be talked out.”

“It’s your call man. All I would say is that there is NOTHING more important than yourself. And when I say yourself, that includes your relationships too. Something wrong with a relationship means something wrong with you. End of a relationship means end of something inside you. And even if things have to end, you need closure. Your heart needs to be at ease.”

“Yeah. Thanks. I need to go somewhere.”

“Don’t run away man. Face it. You will emerge either happy or sad but lighter. If you don’t, you will only emerge sad. The pain won’t settle.”
“Have you got some kinda issues dude? Keep the advice with yourself. Stop pushing the cue-tip when there is resistance!”

“Take care man. Don’t die!”

“Haah! I won’t. You take care too.”

And he died.

Varun Rajagopalan.

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Mirror image

Mirror image

The mirror image gazes.
Utters senseless phrases.
It questions my intentions.
It pleads against my greed.

“My need”, I say.
The light within a ray.
The games that I play.
Will hurt me someday.

Until then I rumble.
In the corporate jungle.
And fate takes a tumble.
I don’t care if I stumble.

I don’t know what’s on my mind.
What I was is hard to find.
Enjoying myself within the grind.
Care and fear I’ve left behind.

I was you when you were blind.
So blind. Incurably blind.
My own intent, I cannot gauge.
Left that to my mirror image.

Varun Rajagopalan.

9mm

9mm

I am…
Chaotic when witty.
Unable to be a wallflower at will.
Mentally I crumble;
into a rut I tumble.
Peaceful whereabouts I hunt.
Reconnaissance is just a stunt.

I pull a fast one on myself.
And wonder how and why.
I’m an angel, an imp, an elf.
I smile, I laugh and I cry.

I loaded something.
I cocked it. It went off.
Not on it’s own.
How can it, you moron?

It found its target.
But I didn’t die.
That bullet didn’t have my name on it.
It didn’t. It didn’t.

Maybe that’s why…
I chose to remain nameless.
It’s safer that way.
Logic? You’ll find utter dismay.

(Loosely inspired by a song by the band Nonpoint)

Varun Rajagopalan.

A Little Baby Elephant

A Little Baby Elephant

A little baby elephant lies asleep on the grass.
Hoping that his mother’s death is nothing but a farce.

Has no clue that she’s been killed just for game.
He surely knows that the killers and we look the same.

The little baby elephant lies dreaming of his mom.
He doesn’t know that when he wakes, she will long be gone.

The little baby elephant is waking from his sleep.
Mommy’s not there; baby will weep.

He’ll grow up someday to become a threatening beast.
An animal that could decimate, that is to say the least.

The little baby elephant has no one in the world.
He has no one to cuddle up, whenever he feels cold.

Varun Rajagopalan.

Let there be light

Let there be light

She struggled with chains.
They clung to her; hurt her.
She screamed in pain.
Metal began to cut her.

Sweat, blood, tears.
Grief, sorrow, fears.
No sign of near and dears.
All in sight unclear.

And I in search of redemption.
Fell into my darkest pit.
And I redeemed her.
Falling deeper bit by bit.

Bruised, not broken.
Breathless, slightly choking.
I sit alone in the pit.
Let there be light; here’s where I sit.

Varun Rajagopalan.

This time

This time

I walked away.
Looked back and laughed.
Looked in front.
And three diamonds passed.

And I was struck by shine.
By desire to make them mine.
And set sail.
Not afraid to fail.

This time I am better.
This time I am smart.
The brain’s doing all the thinking.
And not that stupid heart!

Varun Rajagopalan.

She breathes

She breathes

Indeed a dangerous game.
Utter lack of shame.
Soul hatred: vengeful beast.
My joy: everyone’s feast.
Barbed fences in vain.
For I am immune to pain.
I write to myself.
And imagine she did.
Amid all that’s make-believe,
what I imagine is true, is true.
And when the wind traverses by,
her hair, dark sky.
I look away like I care less.
Within, a complete mess.
I choke. Everybody chokes.
She breathes.
Or so, she thinks.

Varun Rajagopalan.

In metal we trust

In metal we trust

Attitude; rude.
Thrashing snare.
Bloodshot eyes.
Every vice.
Anti-establishment.
Non-conformists.
Anti-everything.
Anger; seething.
Sarcastic while greeting.
Hateful; hated.
Breathing; bated.
Heads, back and forth we thrust.
Scream…
In metal we trust.

Varun Rajagopalan.

Meet and Greet

Meet and Greet

And so she merrily danced.
Amidst the falling rain.
And I surreptitiously glanced.
And looked on in vain.

Through the droplets.
Distracted by the anklets.
I saw layers of salt.
They glistened with a lightning bolt.

I clasped my chest and looked to sit.
Passers-by thought I had a fit.
It was true grit; though.
More than a ligament took a blow.

And technology took a back-seat.
As Snails became hard to beat.
Scarcity prevails when I want to eat.
An utter rarity to meet and greet.

Varun Rajagopalan.

Think

Think

Think. Think. Think.
Thought.
Look at what I got.

Brink. Brink Brink.
Rot.
Damn, I missed my shot.

Pink. Pink. Pink.
Pot.
Against the tide I fought.

Misery I bought.
And then immunity I got.

In a happy spot.

Varun Rajagopalan.