Too many thoughts!

Lately, I have been counting my pleasures and my woes
and the discoveries have been quite interesting!

A brown feather comforts my not so-old window sill
Inside my room there's a smell of confidence and indifference.

My haphazard furnitures exude indolence
while my bookshelf craves for tenderness.

My mirror reflects a thousand colours
but my face soaks up the excess tints.

I stand alone, my guitar by my side.
I stay calm killing my innermost anguish.

Nonsense

And you sprinkle your cinnamon dust
which lays across my purple meadow.

And you leave behind your crystal ball
which shows me a glimpse of your mind.

And I run to the distant woods
there, I re-unite with my violet moods.

The Blue Glass- Finale

The musician blows the trumpet hard.
Jazz spirit fills the room.
I see hope and content in people's eyes.
My crimson glass has come to bid me goodbye.
She has a blue hue somewhere and I don't like it.
She gives me a cruel smile and makes me feel
hollower than ever.

I lie in a different canvas today.
I am supposed to act important too.
The frame has only me and I wear the
silliest yet the most fulfilled expression.
I am a man in love today but my muses
have run away. Black magic is my trump card now.

The Blue Glass- Chapter IV

Crimson glass exists in a secluded corner.

She is pale but divine. She wears a calm mask to

hide all her worries and fears.

Her strength is her laughter. 

She can bring joy to the grimmest castle 

within a flash.

She is precious to me and to the world as well.

I can't hold her too long,

Shackles squeeze out all her happiness.

She wants me, she wants me alone

but i feel Blue.

You should know that Crimson glass

is my imagination. She lives in my world.

A world which is inside me. But she is not trapped like me.

My crimson glass can wander about but returns everytime I am in pain.

The Blue Glass- Chapter III

I lost him and I lost her...
I wish I knew where to go but
I am trapped in the canvas you see.
I am no flesh and blood,
but don't get me wrong-
I have a strong sense of duty and
emotions keep me going.
Only the crimson glass can help me.

She loves me with all her heart.
She accepts my varied professions and hobbies.
She knows I am nothing but Blue's sketch.
She knows I exist for Blue like she does for me.
However, her love grows manifold each day.
Crimson glass makes me encounter laughter and beauty.
She is an integral part of me.
She makes me happy but you see,
my song is Blue.

The Blue Glass- Chapter II

Today I have to be cynical and proud.
She wants me to repel the room full of guests.
Aah! You got it. It isn't too simple.
She wants this man with the green stick dead.
No! She didn't tell me why but I am a murderer today.

The man with the green stick has a contagious sneeze.
I barely manage to escape the trap.
He has a cigar you see, simple but exotic.
The smoke changes peoples' desires.
I had to protect Blue but where has she gone?
The man with green stick laughs a terrible laugh.
But wait..is he reading my mind?

The Blue Glass- Chapter I

Her hair smells like freshly grown cloves,
I get moved by her fleeting expressions.
She is called Blue,
but her skin reminds one of the the prettiest white.
I live and breathe in and out of her bones.
She is mine and I am hers.

Who am I? She would be sketching me soon enough.
You see, I change a lot depending on her thoughts.
One day, I gallop across the hidden woods,
the next day I find myself in a busy market.
If I could colour her moods, it would range from
the palest pink to the boldest black.
She is a wild thing you know but gentle deep down.

LOOP

Those shadows are all over me,
The clouds and the moon share a dialogue.
Raindrops retreat too soon
and the scary bat knocks on my door.

The 'other' me sqeals subtly, but 'real' me answer it back,
and it seems to understand my language.
It displays a ritual dance to welcome me to its family.
I politely indulge and begin a conversation.

We call today Vienna and tomorrow Florence,
But the months need a name and so does the year.
The clock is making the world go round,
Yet the stories weaved look for solidity.

The black crayon

I see you in distance, I turn my back.

I hold on to my book and the brown box.
Chocolates have turned sour,
The button has fallen off.
Photographs too have lost their shine.
I look away, my feet are dead.
I search my bag, and my brains.
I find the black crayon and the white lie,
the lemon tart and your vulgar cries.
I was certain and I still am our paths should never have converged,
Yet I find a part of you lurking underneath my mind somewhere.

Three companions : Finale

The message was for Violet.
It was related to her work.
Yes of course! she was an actress.
The man with the yellow boots was her co-star.
They were always cast together, and they were
so proud of their work. They looked happy together.
Everything was perfect until the day he invited Lemon.
Lemon was his half brother and Violet's estranged husband.

Lemon was too much in love though.
Violet had her reasons and then again
she had a past with the man with the yellow boots.
They were about to be engaged.
Both had just become celebrities.
Violet was forever perplexed.
Decision-making was never her forte.
She was completely love-struck when Lemon performed for her.
He played Bach's Fugue in G-minor on his clarinet.
And in no time, they got married.

Maroon could cure aching hearts and mind.
His music had healing powers.
But his methods were intense.
If one was too edgy, one could die.
That is why many had to return dispirited.
The wooden cello boxes hid the cadavers of their loved ones.
Violet was fighting her feelings- her innocence as well as her penitence.
She survived till the end. Lemon had to go on.

Lemon was precious to Maroon.
To put a smile on his face, the other man had to be put to sleep.
Alas! if only they knew. The message said that Violet had to knock off Lemon.
Also, the fate of the brothers were interlinked.
If one died, the other had to undergo the same process.
Lemon slipped off the following day.
Maroon and Violet had no respite from mourning.
They had lost their identity and existence all at once.

Three companions : Chapter 4

Maroon and Lemon were childhood friends.
They first met during a music competition.
Maroon had won it. He was a child prodigy.
He played Bach's Cello suite no.6.
Lemon has given up his clarinet now.
He is comfortable juggling the role of
a script-writer and a penciller.
Maroon isn't only a musician.
He is a renowned music therapist.
Violet has been his patient for a while now.
She is also the protagonist of Lemon's new script.
The man with the yellow boots had come with a message.

Three companions : Chapter 3

Lemon knew that Bach had a special significance.
He started scribbling nervous phrases just to keep his cool.
They summoned him. He rambled across the hallway.
Everyone knew that Lemon had two obsessions:
Food and Violet. Don't get me wrong. He wasn't proud of it.

Violet looked white. She curled herself cozily beside the fireplace.
She felt troubled. She began to care for the man with yellow boots.
But..come now. Didn't they just meet? It wasn't even an encounter.
They had a past. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Maroon looked triumphant. He was too pleased with his performance.
The approval from the crowd proved that the bizarre incident was an usual act.
The man still lay there but his yellow boots had vanished.
Lemon was showed in. When their eyes met,
Maroon and Lemon were in state of stupor.
Both smiled graciously nonetheless.

Three companions : Chapter 2

It so happens that Violet keeps humming the lines
'on and on the rain will say, how fragile we are, how fragile we are'.
She takes a sneaky glance at the man wearing yellow boots.
No! she didn't find it strange at all rather she's a little curious.
That's all.

Lemon seems to know this man.
They embrace each other and share a knowing smile.
The man enters this murky room where two hefty men
are having a big brawl. Alas! After each grisly attack,
they seem to revel in glory.

Maroon looks up, the man with the yellow boots
stoops low to pick up an empty cello wooden box
and returns a cynical smile. Maroon seemed flabbergasted.
He took out his cello and started playing Bach's Cello suite no 1.
The man fell dead within seconds.

P.S: For Piya :D.

Three companions

Meet my friend violet:
fragile and baffled
engrossed in bliss.
Apathetic towards grief
headstrong and full of herself.

You mean the outline visible from here?
Oh! That's my friend Maroon.
You see the big wooden box lying there
it is the cradle for his cello.
He is a fine cellist you see, (that's what everyone says)
but whoever comes to greet him here
returns with dead corpses in other wooden boxes.

But come now, you must meet Lemon
With his alert glance and killer smile
he sure knows it best.
Philosophies and symphonies
have a charming effect on him.
He doodles multi-hued patterns
and scribbles awkward lyrics
whenever his spirit is let loose.