The Eternal Question

My mind oscillates.
The imaginary pendulum swings....

Should I go the well travelled roads that the world
assures me are the safest ?
or
Should I brave it through the storm armed with nothing but
my intuition and guts to guide me ?

The well travelled roads have nothing to offer
but safety and mediocrity.
It shall bring me no fame or name.
But if I go its ways I may not be happy.
Neither will the world be.
But it shall rejoice that it has stilled yet another rebel.

But if I take the unknown ways...
I shall have only myself to blame
and face the risk of shame.
New and untried adventures shall assail me,
I shall wrestle with my wits,
and my courage will be tested,
as at each stage the world would watch
with bated breath,
to rejoice at my failures.
I may come out of it all,
glorious in my victory ,
masterful and strong .
And I may be supremely happy
as the world mourns my success.

But the choice is left to me.
My mind oscillates.
Should I risk it ?

- Srividya Srinivasan May 1994

Intimate Strangers

We shall meet ... another day, another time.
A different you, a different I .
For a moment in our lives we shall pause...
pause to linger over past memories ,
and try to recapture the spirit of .. a younger you and a younger I.

Our memories shall be tinged with nostalgia ,
as we try to recapture the magic of lost youth.
We will not realise that golden memories
of silly fights,laughter and shared sorrows
are but of another life.

We shall wonder at what we have become ,
look back on what we were
and what we wanted to be.

The moment shall pass and we will move on...
with the lingering doubts as to what the bond was..
We shall move on , carrying with us this precious fragile
meaningless link of a bygone youth,
You , your way and I mine.

Srividya Srinivasan April 1994

Black Magic

When does the magic enter one’s eyes?

The promise of love and pain, laughter and tears enter one’s soul?
When does a familiar face become a dear visage?
When does every natural movement invoke a sense of awe?
When does one become so tuned to another’s scent and shadow?
To another’s frown and smile, yearning and sorrow?
When do two twin heartbeats resonate as one?
When does the music so slow between souls become heartwrenchingly beautiful?
When does one wait with bated but sure breath for that single look?
When does a mere footfall have all one’s pulses racing?
When does distance seem a mere statistic and no place too far away?
When does the promise of a fairytale seem achingly close?
When does the magic die and the curse begin?
When does the reality of hatred and pain, tears and loneliness pierce one’s soul?
When does a dear visage seem too distant to caress?
When does a familiar movement begin to irritate?
When does familiarity breed contempt?
When does music turn into cacophony?
When does the single look become an ugly mask of confrontation?
When does the hand raised is not to caress but to strike?
When does distance become a statistic between two minds?
When does no place seems far enough to run from one’s tears and fears?
Whence this curse? 
Whence the lifting?

- Srividya Srinivasan 13.11.2005