Frustration

The inevitable happens.
it has to.
we all know,
and accept-
except
the wait
between what is there,
and what is destined to be
stretches indefinitely.
the breath that is caught
is released, slightly delayed,
with human intervention-
the white robed men interfering
in the domain of the omnipresent!
but then like Bhisma
they can only delay the end-
influencing death.
and, till they negotiate this deal,
live.
pulse
breath
heart rate
saturation levels in blood-
statistics of life
that one survives
as a numberplate.
living,
because death is delayed.
a life relayed
in drips and tricks
of an inexact science
that only thrives
in the wait between
what there is and what has to be!

The Kleptomaniac

Small change

A pen

Comb, someday

Or even wet tissues…

Anything could get her excited.

The adrenaline pumped.

The surge of desire,

the undeniable urge,

to reach out and hold-

and keep.

She could not resist.

She took,

and kept it hidden.

She kept on

giving in to these sudden urges

to own things

that did not belong to her.

She took without asking.

And then one day,

I caught her red handed

with my book,

and, hell broke loose.

A caught a thief -

a habitual lifter.

Punishment was inevitable.

But magnanimity dawned.

I let go of her.

Actually, if I punished her,

brought her public embarrassment,

disrobed her of the normalcy with which she lived her life,

I could have been accused of stealing-

her innocence

her simplicity

her plain honesty

with which she accepted her urge

and, did not shy away from it-

Like I do, everyday!