The Cat named Envy

 Mother was always partial to Henry, with her loving caresses, kisses and hugs, and for me, I was just the sob story she would narrate along with a glass of wine.

Life was not always so dismal. I was once upon a time the center of her affection, the star of her story, that was until Henry arrived one evening, wrapped in a white loin cloth, feeble, helpless and always yapping. I remember that day, I was back home with my sitter. Cinderella was playing on TV and my sitter was chatty on her phone. The door bell rang, and my movie was cut short with the arrival of Henry, Mother and father by his side. That day I saw in their eyes that he was their new knight in the shinning armour, the hero of their story. By the sixth month after his arrival, we shifted. My entire life uprooted. My friends lost to a wows of posts and messages, which never happened. They moved on with their Uber life, while I was stuck in a farm. Just because the city air was not breathable for Henry, I had to leave behind my dreams, my friends and my life. The world revolved around him.

Life at the farm was not all that bad. It was happy at first. The slow farm life, and new faces in the local school kept me tied down for a while, but it was not the same. I missed Anie's gossip on who dated whom, or Rebecca's pompous treats at Starbucks. Down here in the countryside it was more of a 'Oh my he looked at me, I should blush' and 'I got a piglet as a pet, here, have a candy'. But who am I to complain, I was just another character in Henry's biography.

The farm life was pretty glum and boring. Nothing new to look out for, that was until I met Shein. She was an odd one. A black sheep in a school full of goats. She had an aura about herself, and I would not blame her for that, because she was actually a witch, and for the first time in over a year, I looked forward to go to school. Henry had learned to blabber nonsense, and walk around the house like a drunk monkey, not knowing when to use his legs, and when to use his hands. For every nonsensical syllable he uttered, mother and father were pretty much in awe. I bet they had their own little contest of who gets to be called out first by lord Henry. Would it be 'Mama' or 'Dada', and between all these, Shein was the only one who made sense. She could talk, she could weave stories from the thin fabric of her imagination. Most of all, we had a common dislike for babies. The gurgling, spiting and puking little soul sucking bundle of flesh.

Again its not all misery, and my light of shinning hope came that summer. Shein had read in one of her mother's infinite spell books a particular spell, which would help me get rid of my missery. A spell which would help me be the star of my life again. Be the light bearer. She was pretty confident of the spell, heck she even had cast it on her little baby sister.

The premise was very simple. Identify an animal, preferably a pig - people say the flesh is similar to a human. Cast the spell, and watch the souls switch. Once that is done, the pig goes to the slaughter house, and the human lives on with the pig's soul, enslaved and indebted to its saviour - you.

I asked Shein to do it for me. She did without questioning my intent. Henry was gone.

Mother was the first to notice. Henry had slowed down, his usual happy gurgles and the attempted word plays were now just a bunch of squeals and screeches. Dad was brought on board, and then doctors followed. "I am the bright one, look at me, love me", I hoped to yell out, but once again Lord Henry won the battle. Mother and Father doubled down on their care for Henry. Every week was a hospital week. Tests followed tests, and the doctors concluded - Autism it was. Henry may be good at something, we would never know. We would have to have patience, atleast that is what the doctors told to console mother. With this new addition I had become invisible.

This would be a turning point in many people's life. They repent for what they have done, confess, blame themselves and forever live in the shadow of guilt. It would have been the same for me, or that is what Shein told me. She tried convincing me to slaughter the piglet which we switched Henry with. The book of spells was pretty clear about the slaughter part. So we did. It was not a great experience - sneaking into the Neigil's farm, and slaughtering his pet, for whom he had treated the entire classroom with candies. Neigil was absent for a week after the incident, but at this point I did not care any more. My life would be back to normal, and compared to that, a loser kid's sorrow was nothing.

Happiness and love did return, but it was short lived. Henry was enrolled in a special program to help him learn. Mother was away with him, but I had once again become the star of my father's story. He would read me stories, kiss me good nights, and make me feel loved again. It went on for a while, as I basked in the new found affection. The attention lasted for a month, until Henry returned. I no longer had the good night kisses, or the stories to fall asleep to. Henry became the protagonist of the story once again.

Life is never fair. Darwin taught us that, and looking back at the years I spent wrapped in the straight jackets, I feel Henry didn't deserve the life either. Shein was supportive of my decision, but she no longer talks to me. I am still alone, just like that evening when Henry arrived. The only difference being, I was not caged back then, but today I am.

Insomnia

My dreams spake to me, in the riddled morning sunlight,
Clamoured by the knights shinning armour, it spoke,
"Shiny", my little voice echoed, shiny indeed.

My dreams spake to me, clearing its voice it spoke,
The devil's hour is upon your soul, sleep, the little voice echoed,
"The darkest hour foresees a sunshine", I replied.

My dreams spake to me, chanting mystic words of a world lost,
As the seven colours played, dwarfs in the plot of the White,
The Evil Queen resumed her verbose with the mirror, sleep the mirror did.

My dreams spake to me, shivers, cold, the mind games played,
The balance unhinged, darker powers spooked by the purple Jedi,
The metal has lost its sheen, rapped by the dubbed steps of pain.

My dreams spake to me, shivers,  I feel a disturbed force,
Fear me for the force is strong on my side, I am the chosen one, he says
She slapped, I slapped, he slapped, the words play their parts.

My dreams spake to me, sleep is the mistress I long to forget,
For my love lays in my arms, sleep lurking by the edges,
I want to sleep, but she my life(Oh, mind the rhyme), has different plans.

My dreams spake to me, falter I did, cheat I did, suffer I did,
The truth spoke higher than the dreams, engulfed in the darkness,
Sleep my mistress, my long forgotten love, seconded by knowledge.

Knowledge, my life long strife.

City of the Sleepless

The sun sang the lullaby, 

As it bid farewell to the earth,

What a waste, what a waste.

The nightlings waited, 

As children for parents to leave,

With darkness, merrymaking. 

The moon stepped the lights,

Ambient white light, you may call,

The night was alive, revelry every where.

The night grew intense, cold wind swept,

And with the raising chill,

Merry making reached the peak. 

Old and young alike, wandered the streets, 

Matching their steps, a drunken dance,

To the low hum of the night wind.

At length the star of the night arrived,

Clad in the frozen coat, 

The mystery man, Sleep they call.

And each being, young and old,

Matched the steps to the cold,

As Sleep danced, to the trumpet ball.

Soon in the dead of the night, 

The party reached the end, 

And as the first rays of sun hit,

The day woke, blissful to the night.

The Other Me

Have you opened your eyes yet,
'No I haven't', I reply,
Have you closed the books yet,
'I have, but why?', I ask,
Its time to be me.

Have you cleared your thoughts?,
'No, I haven't', I reply,
Clear them, for they are mine,
'Who are you?',I ask,
Its time to be me.

Have you bid farewell to past,
'No I haven't', I reply,
Have you made peace yet?
'Why should I?', I ask,
Its time to be me.

'Who are you?', I ask,
Silence is my name,
'Why should I be you?',
You need to be complete.
I become you, I am me again.

The unfinished conversation - 6, Repeat,

The red brick village, in a red brick town,
The red brick house, surrounded by clowns,

The red brick, backed,in  sun so bright,
The red brick, scorched, in the oven's might.

The red brick, in a widows platter,
The red brick, an adulterous chatter.

The red brick in the palace walls,
The red brick, of the temple gods.

The red brick, thrown at stars,
The red brick, which breaks apart.

The red brick, made from red bricks,
The red brick, draw  line to your tricks

The unfinished Conversation - 5, Vengeance,

The crimson ribbon, that drenched my hands, 

For the love lay there, love of my life,

The crimson ribbon flowed free,

A fading beauty, she lay in my arms,

A tear I shed, promise not to cry,

A fading beauty, she withers away.

I clench her close to me, hold her near,

Her heart, clock work of stone, 

I clench her close to me, as she fades away.

I lay her down, her soft hair I brush,

Her lips, cold now, one last kiss,

I lay her down, and I disappear.

I found him gambling in a whore house, 

A stake through his heart I drove,

I found him gambling for his own life now.

The unfinished conversation - 4, Hell's Angels.

Clock tolled seven, 
Wake up and shine,
The clock tolled six, 
Slumber time.

Clock tolled five, 
Eat your food,
The clock tolled four,
Fight in the hood.

Clock tolled three,
Plant a tree,
Clock tolled two,
Burn him free.

Clock tolled six,
'Coz one is a fix,
Clock tolled eight,
Brimstone tricks.

Clock tolled nine,
A pillar of salt,
Clock tolled six,
Flood it all.

The unfinished Conversation - 3, The Afterlife.

I saw a dim light, bright undertone of peace,
As I moved through the sea, sea of joy.

I watched the sun fade, and the sky disappear,
I drifted into the darkness, with a glimmer of tear.

I saw them play a trumpet, a harp, and a fiddle,
The sweat sound of life, death was just a riddle.

I waited at the gates, my book of life opened,
A smile to welcome me, a smile of content.

I welcomed the site, but just a bit unsure,
For a man of sin I was, heaven could I secure?

The unfinished Conversation - 2, The Dying wish

The little fish smiled, 
The little fish, sang around,
The little fish winked, 
The little fish, the little evil fish.

The little fish cried,
The little fish, sat around,
The little fish, glommed,
The little fish, the little evil fish.

The little fish laughed,
The little fish, ran around,
The little fish, wept,
The little fish, the little evil fish.

The little fish wrote,
The little fish, scribbled around
The little fish, sealed,
The little fish, the little dead fish.

The unfinished Conversation - 1, The sin.

A gasp of air, a little torn sheet,

I stood, motionless, for the beast.

Shout from the den, he said,

But lost you are in my bed.

Scream, and you shall be answered,

A knife, your skin might be pierced.

Talk to me, my love, just talk to me,

No one can take you from me.

I held half a spoon, half drenched in blood,

He pulled out the other half, his eye balls embed. 

I had a broken bone, a shattered finger may be,

But he, sat or laid, a mangled man, pleasure to see.

Then he spoke, words, or gasps for breath.
As I closed the doors and walked.

The Painted Face

"...The candle flickered, and so did his shadow, till they became one in darkness.."

The paint brush in his hands quivered, spreading splashes of red,
The giant shadow danced as the flame of the candle flickered,
A smile, he drew, then a sad face, the eyes did the talking,
He won't move, for his shadow remains intact, inept for the world.

A fine line he drew, to divide, to create, the line grew, cold,
A fine line he drew, to stop, to make, the line grew, sad.

The shadow never grew tired, for ages, it just followed him,
But today it stands, still, its calm, as the storm approaches,
Its mayhem in his head, he clutches, he screams, then he sits,
The shadow paints, the fine lines that define emotions on the face.

The candle flickered, as it ate the moth that lingered around,
The shadow danced, rhythmic with that of the flame, steady, but chaotic.

The eyes looked back, as the brush painted them, created them with a cares,
The fine lines don't exist any more, for the face as a whole is alive,
The candle burns away into the night, slowly being eaten by its own light,
The shadow disappears, and all that is left is the painted face.

Half Face

....He watched the half painted face on the wall smile...

His eyes opened to a new morning, white lilies on his table,
The bright yellow tint of the morning sun, streamed his mind,
He watched the half painted face on the wall, blinked his eyes.

The nights spoil, spread under his bed, he could feel the heartbeat,
As he stepped aside to his new day, the face on the wall smiled,
The smile turned to laughter, pride his only emotion.

The spider crawled away, as his hands reached in to the depths,
Depths of his unaltered life, the lips parted in half a smile,
Love, he knew was that which changed the face, the half face.

The lily bloomed, a half white silver petal, fading at its root,
Something had changed from the previous night, spiders in his brain,
The red pool that had formed, reflected his evil self, the passion.

He watched the lily fade away, the white turning to pale rust,
He watched her smile fade away, the sunlight fade into darkness,
The spiders crawl back, as he laid her down, under his bed.

Being at War

Lets deal with the devil inside,
Said the voice which had died,
And with the shrill laughter they rose,
To the moon light that masked the night.

He had a knife, and a sword in the right,
"How would you want to die, Master?", he cried,
Only one would survive tonight, this I knew,
Lets play, and lets make this night senile.

He shrieked, he screamed like a wounded lion,
And with the sword, he charged, to take the life.
I shrieked, I screamed, like the master, the slave,
And to death in glory, did I charge.

The night is long, lets drink to Life,
The days are gone, lets drink for joy,
He danced, a madman's dance, magic on his tongue,
And he danced, a firefly's dance around the sun.

And when the dance ended, he took the sword,
A slash to the right, and his own throat in line,
The blood that sprout, like fountains, as he breathed his last,
The devil was gone. so was my pride.

Rules of Insanity.

Love, when it defines, means,
Waiting on the stairs of life.

Waiting for the time to crawl,
A foot ahead and a foot back.
It would fall, It would raise,
But the sphere won't grow.
Even if it grows, It would still remain
As the moth that crawls by the fire.

Raise your eyes to the sky,
The moon awaits your presence.
Lower your gaze to the ground,
Where the light begs for your care.
Is it the horse that throttles,
Or the honey bee that stings.
Welcome to the world that can't discern,
What you speak and what the wind hums.

I swing, I slide, sunshine smiles with me,
I dance, I fly, the clouds pour with me.
Butterflies sail, with winds as their mates,
And I do fly, and petals fly with me.
Rules are for mortals,Rules are for sane,
Caught in the box, they never shake their brains.
Crumbled with the dry leaves, I do remain,
A thorn on a rose, what people call insane.

A special thanks to Rahul Göma Phuloré who was along with me in my madness, and my sis for choosing the apt title

Spaces

Jumbled in his brain, a bug roams,
From nerve to nerve, it hops and crawls.
He sits and the time stops,
Compressed in his imagination.

Closed within the wall he tries to be strong,
But the walls grow and the memories explode,
Was it darkness or the fading light,
The bug flourishes in the empty thoughts.

The bug crawls, eating his strength,
It walks within the square he drew.
Spine chilling laughter, a glitter in its eye,
Is it fear or the insanity that looms.

He wakes every morning, thinking of the dreams,
Clusters of memories collapse, darkness ensues.
Is it the open spaces he fears,
Or the frozen time and closed Squares.