This is a writing project that was thought of and executed while we were idling at work. Neelanjan Dasgupta and I are co-authours of the poem. He wrote a line, I the other. But it should leave you with just one feeling.

She fills me with dread, with horror, with pain.
And a certain niggling in the underside of my knee
But I can’t seem to run away. Standing still. Lead.
As she comes close to me, with her heady perfume
Visions of the dank forest, its grass lined with vomit
Creep up in mind, caressed by the whiff of her fragrance
The television for eyes, I have no other memories.
May be a passing tone of an almost missed radio sound, her sighs.
Nostalgia, erotica or real, I can feel the retching feeling come closer;
Close enough to make structures of darkness in my head.
Darkness, which used to soothe. Used to seal in.
I wondered, is she then, close enough for my touch?
In a world where to touch has become to invade. The old touch forgotten.
But i wondered still, is she then, close enough for my touch.
The mind is free they said. Were they right to fear this?  
My mind says, what touch would kill, and what touch would love.
A film villian’s hollow laugh echoes in the caves of my head,  
Those men with flickering bulbs of evil kitsch; as i smile.  
The smile of a man welcoming inevitability.
Her fragrance overpowered the silence of her hair falling on her nape
As we spoke in silence; and screamed together in pain.  
I could see my pain, my dread and horror, reflecting in her kohl stained eyes
I wondered, is she then, close enough for my touch?
I could see my fingers, creep between her dress,so crimson under the evening light  
They held the light for an instant,  
She screamed my screams, she cried my pain.
And then the crimson burnt through both our skin and flesh.   
We shared the rage, we shared the pain, the strength however, was only mine.
For the closer she came in my mind, the further she really was.
But still i knew, that she was close enough, for my touch.

Neelanjan & Kanishk.  

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