Watch Me!

Isn’t it odd that in your life you experience thousands of memories, they pass by and you remember nothing of them, not a single detail about them and yet there are those events that happen on the spur of moment yet you remember them as vividly as they just took place in front of your eyes? They say Ignorance is bliss. For such moments frozen in time; the mind renders every detail intensely and descriptively as it paints the passing aura of emotions & words spoken onto the blank canvas that sits on an easel in the corner of your mind. Until you realize, deep inside, that such a portrait of pain and landscape of pleasure exist somewhere in your head; you come to know not only of their existence but of their exhilarating exhibition and daunting applause they receive every time you see them & recall them. These expressions eventually haunt your mind as the diptych of pain & pleasure hangs side by side somewhere on a bright wall inside your head, waiting for you to appreciate them.

Watch Me!

Will she be my muse?

And she combed her gold-streaked hair with her long sleek fingers, having sharp nails brilliantly painted in red. A cool breeze blew from the East diffusing the fragrance of her cologne over my face. I gasped & closed my eyes to feel the aromatized wind! I quivered back to life when the driver of the bus we were traveling in applied the breaks and we stopped on the red light. I immediately looked for my pencil case & sketchpad. I wanted to draw this artistic gesture of her hand. As soon as I was ready to scratch a line on paper; the traffic signal turned green and instantly we both were moving again, in the same yet very different directions. Will she be my muse?

Necessary Medication

These meds are not for the physical pain but for the emotional one. The one that comes from the names they call me with, statements they tore me with, questions they cut me with & smiles they hurt me with. The pills are for the trauma that goes on every day, trauma that takes a new form every hour; sometimes an isolation, sometimes an ache. Mostly tears and occasionally blood.

S.N.Hussain (2nd, August, 2014, 4 am in the morning, first rain of the season)

A War With Her God

He loved a woman, she died in a war

A war with herself, A war with her God

She called him an atheist, she called him a liar

Said he was a man of unholy desire

She went on a journey, to kill what was odd

She fought in a battle, A battle with her God

And hid her body in the feathers of the dark

Covered her face in the blemish of her God

He loved a woman, she lied in a war

A war with herself, A war with her God

2009 | S.N. Hussain