Tomic Riter

Tag: poetry

  • From Rain to Restaurant: A Night Out in the Downpour

    that day, I had drenched in rain twice already
    the damned rain
    I was sick of it
    give me desert
    throw me in the hot sands of Thar
    I was saying all this to myself
    rather, I was screaming 
    but the sky doesn't hear
    the sky is deaf and stupid
    and it won't stop crying until it's done
    tired of getting drenched, I stopped at
    a friend's shop late evening 
    and sat for a while
    'Nothing seems to be working out'
    said my friend to me while we sat and talked
    'Seems so' I replied
    he ordered coffee, a cup, just one
    the coffee came soon and I drank it
    it was still raining
    soon, a car arrived and my friend hopped in
    and they drove away, all four of them
    who they were, I had no idea
    I waited for a couple of minutes
    outside the shop in total darnkess
    it was still raining
    I said screw it and got on my motorcycle
    I drove to my favorite restaurant in town,
    a small one where not many came at night
    I sat, there was no electricity
    it was still raining
    'Eggs?' I asked the owner
    'Only chicken and fish tonight' he replied
    'Fish' I said
    I put on my earphones
    classical piano
    I needed classical on such nights
    I closed my eyes for a minute and listened
    a voice called my name
    I opened eyes, saw a friend sitting
    opposite to me
    'Tired?' he asked
    'Tired of rain, yeah. I want it
    fucking gone now' I replied
    'Yeah it has kind of spoilt the mood' he said
    we talked a bit
    fish came soon
    looked superb as always, roasted 
    'Fish of smaller waters is tastier' he said
    'That's very true' I said
    I ate slowly
    took me an hour maybe more
    it was still raining outside
    we talked about Indian classical music
    while I chewed on the soft bones
    of the delicious fish
    soon, a bouncer-like figure walked in, sat,
    waited for his takeaway, took it, paid
    and left
    'He's the bodyguard of a don' said my friend
    'Looks like it' I said
    I finished eating, my friend got up and left
    where he went, I had no clue
    I paid the bill
    it was still raining
    'How do I withdraw cash from my account
    if I do not have a card?' the owner asked
    as I started leaving
    'Why do you think I know the answer.
    I do not' I said
    it was still raining
    I ran outside to my motorcycle, sat and drove 
    back to home.

    - Tomic

  • Emotional Poem: When the Sky Weeps

    no evidence of wings
    no trace of sunlight
    the sky is crying day and night
    waiting for a spark of fire
    eyes closed, knees bent, heart broken
    I lay concentrated waiting to be diluted
    this isn't my tune
    this isn't my day
    this life isn't my life
    when will the sky stop crying
    no amount of consolation works
    no amount of thinking about it works
    when the sky weeps, I weep
    I'm so old and deserted
    my home weeps
    no weather can shatter me more
    the quiet outside doesn't last
    I comb my hair with the fingers
    of my right hand
    and die.

    - Tomic

  • Exploring new ventures : Thoughts from a shop backroom

    Been away for a long time. A while ago, I was sitting with this friend of mine in his shop’s backroom. We were talking about how something must be done soon. About what, we couldn’t say. But something must be done. That much is clear. It is as if everything has come to a standstill. It is as if we are alive but we do not feel so. Something, hence, must be done to feel alive.

    But what. Should we start a new business. Should we make a youtube channel like many others. Should we make an instagram travel account. Should we start vlogging. The thing is that it isn’t enough to start something. The question is why start anything at all. What is compelling us to take on something new. Maybe because we are capable of doing far more that what we are currently doing.

    Our conversation was cut short by the arrival of a third man, a nuisance, a menace to the society in general. At that point, we stopped talking. We let the third man talk. He was angry at something. About what, I didn’t wish to know. A million things anger me, but it’s not anyone’s business. Only mine.

    Soon, the third man left. Our conversation couldn’t resume immediately upon his leaving. Something about that space had changed. Maybe our moods changed. Maybe we were too exhausted from the routine that we were unable to talk further.

    Soon, the clock struck 9 o’clock. We got up, walked out of the shop, locked it behind us and we drove back to our homes as quietly as we could.

    – Tomic

  • Resilient Journey: Walking Home with a Fractured Thumb

    Resilient Journey: Walking Home with a Fractured Thumb

    Today was another bad day. I woke up very late with pain in my thumb. Somehow, I fractured it a few days ago. I was in another town and one rainy morning, I slipped and fell on my ass while I was strolling downhill. A couple of folks gathered around me and helped me in getting up.

    ‘You ok man? Did you hurt yourself?’ asked a folk.

    ‘Oh I’m ok. I’m ok. Nothing serious. I think I can walk fine’ I replied as I stood up and brushed the dust and wet mud off my joggers and t-shirt with my palms.

    I was wrong of course. It did hurt when I started to walk but I kept walking quietly. I didn’t ask for help. Generally, I ask for help only when the situation is dire. I have got endurance like no one else. I can take any kind of hurt now. I can observe my own pain and not feel stressed about it. So I kept walking and after walking for an hour, I reached home.

    Upon reaching home, as I got into cold shower, it began to hurt in more places. As I dried myself with a towel, I felt my right leg hurting from top to down. As I lay down in my bed for some time, I could feel the pain sedate me. When my eyes opened up a couple of hours later, I couldn’t manage to even sit on the bed. I got down the bed somehow, and despite all the hurting, I got dressed and went on another stroll uphill.

    The next morning, the pain was excruciating and I decided to go on a short trek through the woods. When I reached the top of the hill, I had unbearable pain in my body but when I saw the view of the hills and the incessant rain over the hills and the fog settling down on the whole city, I felt at ease. I sat there for three hours, doing nothing, witnessing the crazy rain wash everything. Then as the dusk came, I began my walk downhill. It was raining still. By then, my right palm was swollen. I guess I fell too hard on it.

    © Tomic. All rights reserved.

  • The things I remember – a reflection on self

    The things I remember – a reflection on self

    I remember walking uphill. I remember beautiful symphonies. I remember the taste of bad beer and bad wine. I remember taking a nap under the sky while I lay on a huge boulder with a valley of emptiness beneath me. I remember feeling no pain then. I remember crying in closed rooms and then walking out of them without a trace of sadness on my face. I remember gulping down my anger. I remember feeling pissed off with the idiocy and hypocrisy of people everywhere. I remember waking up late every day, demotivated to go to work. I remember pain. I remember being in love. I remember my enemies well. I remember their hatred towards me. I remember being made fun of. I remember being nothing. I remember being a nobody. I remember this night when I get to writing once again.

    © Tomic. All rights reserved.

  • Waiting for it to end.

    Waiting for it to end.

    The liver seems to be missing. The bladder has doubled in size. The eyes can’t take in too much light. Darkness is my old friend. It really feels strange when I feel my breath. I am alive. Alive! I take a deep breath. I look at you sleeping with a severe headache, your head in my lap. Blues playing in the background. Call me the Breeze. I close my eyes, my palm caressing your forehead. It’s getting harder and harder to focus. I wish to lay down next to you, holding you in my arms, warm. There’s still some time. Night time is the only time I have for myself. What’s wrong with me! Why can’t I have just one dream. I want everything. I accomplish nothing. I’m just a cog turning endlessly in a giant machine. I’m just a slave. Night frees me. Night gives myself back to me. I didn’t realise when the song changed. It happens every time.

    – Tomic. All rights reserved.

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  • While I bit my fingers hooked to my desk.

    Two men appeared out of a yellow coloured building. Two men took the elevator to the basement and then ran off like they were being chased by the most ghostly of ghosts. Two men were walking down the street, side by side, when one of them took a device out of his jacket’s inner pocket, pressed the button on its side. The timer was ticking countdown. Three minutes. He gave the device to the other man and himself sat down on a bench on the pavement. The other man looked at the device, smiled, took a long drag of his cigarette, bent down, extended his arm out, rolled the device away to his right. The device rolled until it stopped beneath a parked car. The car was a dusty red Cadillac. The man stood straight, tossed the cigarette away and walked on. The other man kept sitting on the bench, kept hitting the bench’s iron surface with both of his fisted palms. He looked at his watch on the left wrist. It had the countdown timer running. 01:10. He got up, walked right to the Cadillac. He opened the zipper of his pants. He pissed on the side gates and on the window of the car. He closed the zipper. He walked to the bonnet, jumped on top of it with both his feet. He walked up right to the centre of the car top. He stood there for a while, looking down. He lifted his left wrist, looked at his watch again. 00:25. He laughed loud. He laid down on the car top, his face facing the sky above. His mouth was open. He closed his eyes. Slowly. Exhaled everything out of his body.

    3………2………1……….

    © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • Talk and talk.

    I never wanted to be a better writer. I just wanted to write well. Isn’t that enough? To write well? To tell in simple, clear sentences what you wish to tell? But what do I wish to tell? I haven’t always been very clear about it. It’s just that there’s always something more to tell.

    t’s a rainy day. Sun will be seen rarely in the days to come. Raindrops will hang down the window panes all day long. Spiders will repopulate themselves. An eerie smell of decay will be filling my room very very soon. Wet dirt will be all over the floors of my entire home. I will be lazier than ever, doing nothing all day, just laying down somewhere on the floor or on the couch. The rain has stopped for a moment. The sweet noise of rain falling is gone for a while. It seemed like a necessary noise. Without it, everything else sounds awful.

    It’s night now. It rained pretty much whole day. The evening was spent meeting a stranger. The truth about money is that almost everybody is in dire need of it. Now, laying down on the couch, yawning, listening to a song, thinking about all the talks done and not done this evening, yawning again and again. One more time. My room is cold. I’ve got nothing more to talk about right now. However much we talk, we fail to communicate often.

    © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • Just that and something of this.

    Nothing much on my mind. Nothing much has been on my mind. Just these thoughts that are nothing more than noise. It’s night. I’m sitting in my revolving chair. I’m looking out the window, stretching my neck out, trying to look at the city as much as I can. The city is getting wet again. It has less and less to offer me now. Moments ago, I was sitting on a bench downstairs, trying to catch a breath in the cool winds when a dog stopped near me. It looked at me for a good 20 seconds or so. Then it bolted away. You might be thinking now, ‘What’s so strange about that?’ I don’t know. The dog seemed to appear out of nowhere.

    Let’s say I weren’t here right now. I would be somewhere else. The truth is that I would be somewhere. It’s strange isn’t it. I am never nowhere although I would love to be nowhere. Being somewhere doesn’t put my mind to rest. No, I’m not greedy. But I do know by now and in a hard hard way that life is one. Why be scared of anything. Let’s take the risks we are afraid to take. Let’s kick away the hurdles. Let’s move ahead no matter what. One step at a time. Let’s move mountains. It is time.

    But I’ve talked about moving mountains before. Why am I talking about moving mountains now. Suddenly my fingers stop typing. I am taking a moment to think. What has suddenly made my fingers to stop typing. They were typing just fine and now they’re doing nothing. Simply nothing. I’m staring at the blank wall in front of me, lowering the volume on speakers a bit. Yes, it’s perfect now. I know nothing and the music isn’t loud. I can sit comfortably without having any kind of answers to any kind of questions and enjoy the music. The song changes. The song often changes right when you are getting lost in it.

    I’m looking at you. I’m looking at you again. I have this smile on my face and in my eyes that only you bring. I’m closing my eyes. I will stop right here.

    © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • Time and again.

    At a friend’s shop, sitting on this chair with my legs stretched. Been sitting here with my legs stretched since about thirty minutes. The friend is nowhere to be seen. ‘He said he’ll be back in five minutes’ says the helper. ‘Sure’ I say to him and continue with the sitting.

    Yesterday, started reading this book by Murakami. Novelist as A Vocation. Finished 50 pages. The guy is a genius and a consistent performer. It takes something more than just talent to keep churning out novels even after 30 years. I don’t think I would be able to write consistently and get my works published for that long. I think I would give up everything in the next ten years. That’s how I feel now. Hell, I could give up tomorrow.

    What to have for dinner is a question that bugs me almost every night. I am tired of going to the same restaurant for dinner every other night. I am as much tired of going out for dinner as I am of ordering food from home. I need a change of setting. That’s what I need. I need a whole new city and a whole new role to play.

    The friend of mine did come later. We sat there in his shop and talked for about three hours. Two other friends joined us later. It’s a small shop with the perfect ceiling lights.

    It’s getting late by the minute. I cannot decide where I really want to be tonight. Sitting here on my couch at my home, I don’t feel like I want to be here right now.

    © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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