It turned out to be, yet again a yawning day in the office coming to an end propelling to almost no mental satisfaction. Tired and high on the alcohol consumed over the last week because of the just concluded Delhi Couture week, the promise to keep the words on vacation was still tight. However, while sitting in the office and not letting the moment pass by as a waste; my dear friend Barik had other ideas.
After a torturous walk down the road to two different directions, we finally reached the theka and bought our Port Wine and headed towards his home, to be later joined by Rahul. In a mood of laziness and self containment the trip begun and so did the try to work together for the first time.
In a weird attempt to ignore the music that was playing, we thought of writing together – or I guess I wrote for and because of him. On his canvas came through his marker the first line, soon the second was mine.
Below are the lines in that order (first his, second mine) …an art that lived two lives!
Silence is all around,
As it becomes a playground,
But, what about the music,
Get the logic of the lingo called blank,
Silence even when the sound,
I told you, we are two devils to kill; hence a playground,
This playground, this life, this reality, this society,
Bounded by secrets, there is a voyage, society – let alone be,
This music, this dance, this art, this love,
I am counting all, dare move ahead, don’t be a dove,
Move into time, this moment, this eternity,
But, what about the bell that rang and searched for loyalty?
Ha ha ha love…
Will always remain a question,
Will always fucking be the question,
As it seems,
What seems is silence,
Abducted by the playground,
What seems is music,
Or perhaps my Nirvana,
That silence is music,
You still hear it!!
BARIK SV
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