Poetry

In this beautiful world, I have no desire to die,

I wish to live in the midst of men.

In this sunlight, in the flowering forests

In the heart of all living things may I find a place

Incessant is the play of life across the earth

With its perennial waves of union and separation, laughter and tears.

Weaving songs from the sorrow and happiness of man

I wish I might build an immortal realm.

Or failing this, I hope I can claim a seat

Amongst you for as long as I live

Composing songs like flowers that blossom ever afresh

For you to gather in the morning and noon.

Accept these flowers with a smile, and then alas!

Cast them aside as they fade and die.

Rabindranath Tagore





Monday, April 13, 2015

Green Again


A bit of bright blue sky to sing aloud;
A pelt of rain to sleep comfortably;
A bit of thunder and lightning to look
And feel brave and happy at times.

The swooping  airshow by the kites;
Caught by the eye and not on the lens,
The evening palettes in hues of blue,
That brings back some thoughts of you.

Like a chorus in a song, you play nonstop,
While I watch the skies and the rain,
Look at the fresh green banyan leaves
Turn wan in the summer sun like me.

The tiny heart-shaped leaves will flicker,
And our hearts will turn green once again.


Sunday, April 12, 2015

Angst



Your words fill my heart with a strange emotion; it’s like seeing me in a mirror, a million crossroads ago. The words bring new possibilities that I had lost and may be with a sleight of hand, with a sudden twist, I want a victory in life, not beautiful words in multiple colours strewn across pages and pages of separation and absence.

The bondages don’t matter anymore nor the daily actions that need so many juggling roles; one to another switching lines and changing masks. Your angst matches mine and tears rise up in my eyes when I realise that what matters really is flying out of mazes, free and wild, without ever getting burnt in the riot of ecstatic freedom.

Time freezes and I always go back to the day we spoke; more or less clueless as to emotions; yet in a strange way feeling the way how words do not make sense any longer with the baggage that I carry and the familiar way in which my eyes longed to see what I saw till the magic was broken and the moment gone.

Many seconds passed before I felt what it is to come back before you and get back the same lovelorn gaze; many days, months, years may pass with the moment gone; while the writer’s words say it all, wasting away lives and crossroads all in the name of a love that never found a way to the lips, all in the name of a love that is so you and so me; never us. 

Friday, April 10, 2015

These days





There may be millions of people in this world;
The count increasing second by second daily;
Millions, I hardly know; thousands neither,
But these days, what I want to study is, you.

There may be many songs that I have heard;
Countless in number, peppy, soulful or sad;
But these days, don’t want anything except
The song you were humming all day long.

These days, when togetherness is what matters,
I want to trace your contours with my fingers
I want to feel the warm love-light in your eyes,
And make you my entire world, my soul melody.

Medicines and remedies, there may be around;
But these days, the only cure that I have is you.