Tuesday, December 02, 2014

A Lady of Humour

She is a presence, this lady of honour and humour.
She winks at me and tells me of a prize she offered
To you, who loved me more than anything else.

But you despaired and refused in your naivete,
And tormented yourself with many imaginings
While what we needed was a sacred space.

The world has put wagers on you and me;
But she tells me of a clue in her future tense
And I cackle with laughter over what is lost. 

An era of silence

The candle had burnt for two long years
The prayers countless that passed these lips;
So many scoldings that the ears pained to,
So many thrashings that this body bore.

All without a word of encouragement
A word of love or a word of consolation,
In those days when I was playing with fire
Much against my reason or my own will.

Afterwards the days turned into darkness
The lips stopped moving for miracles
For no molehills forget a mountain,
God was buried in those four walls.

You took away with you God and song
But now it’s all water under the bridge. 

Free Bird

A free bird flies in our blue grey skies
Seeking attention from the denizens;
All ears for tales of laughter and tears
Passing around free observations

He doesn’t sit on any branch too long
For fear that his heart may sing along
The many songs that he listens to
From the maidens whom he does woo

His friend is a bluebird of the skies
Who looks out for his loving jay
Though any day he can fly away
And make his nest in happy boughs.

The blue grey skies are made worth
One of pure devotion; one of mirth. 

Historian

You are a historian because you studied events to make sense of your uneventful life. You lost your father in the travails of war and throughout your life, you searched for the codes and nodes that could offer you a clue as to what you had lost with his death.  You marked the places and went from one end of the earth to the other just to see what your father’s eyes had seen and felt. Now, when you hardly recognise faces or reality, you are a child of three score who searches for meaning out of a lost father’s found letters. 

Friday, November 28, 2014

Broken

You have found each broken piece, 
And fitted them perfectly well, 
But are you sure you've found it all?

The deities of time and space, 
The wise old ones are omniscient
Of dreams that have never breathed.

You are the best dream of all, 
One that makes me smile everyday
In spite of the chains that bind me. 


Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Jigsaw Puzzle

In a shutter second the world moved;
The skies crashed and you dreamt
While I went on with whatever I was
Imbibed a very precious pinned lesson.

Your dreams taste of a world abandoned
Long ago and far away, a mythical bowl
Of tears and laughter, rain and sunshine
That pulled you back once again.

You and I were part of a whole picture
Two shots taken seconds apart in a crowd
One leaning against another’s shoulder
Home and heart against each other.

There are no trysts or sweet nothings
But two philosophers meet in thoughts.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Home

Once there was a child
Who went home
With a song on his lips
So happy that others
Envied his happiness. 

Once his glance fell on
A girl who dragged her
hated home
Throughout her life
That everyday was a drag
Of feet back home. 

But she made a home
Wherever she was
Full of people to love
Talk and laugh and tease
A real home of love. 

He without knowing all
Went to make a home
In her vacant heart
Has lost his song of joy
And happiness of heart. 




Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Blue bird


Yesterday, I saw a child
Doing what I want to do
But cannot do and smiled

It caught a bluebird
With its tiny hand
And spoke so easily

The colour code

The colour code scheme of unity
At times the actions and words 
Never match the intentions
And sadly we can agree.

The equal codes of blue we wore
On a day that matched an aim
Always trying to prove better
Than try to work together. 

The colour code of yesterday
The colour code of today
The colour of tomorrow
Will be our shades of nature. 

Sometimes it matches dreams
Sometimes it does not.

  

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Pursuit of happiness

The purple riot began
And took root slowly.

Who would've thought
Who would've known

In the rear view mirror
It looks like spring again

It's snowing every morn
And melting by evening.

The beauty that returned
The songs that don't cease

One day sitting nearby
Feeling the full purple riot

The deep desire in your eyes
That sang to me whole night

The hand that almost reached
The purple riot in your heart.



Saturday, November 15, 2014

Beauty

Artemis and Athena 
Walked in these corridors; 
Until in your eyes
Aphrodite was wakened.

But all the gods are aware
Of this sea-change
That has brought nothing
But trouble and beauty.

Muse

A muse who made me smile, 
Made me cry, versify
Once again

Darkness

The Sun feels unworthy
To be the source of light; 
What ifs scream in its head.

You could fly and find a star
New, devoid of blemishes
Old scars or its reticence

Yet the Sun falls into darkness
When this daily mirroring
Doesn't happen as imagined.

Move On

You can help me get over you
I can help you get over me
May be that's what is love

Fickle

A wall was built
Between two souls
That loved well.
But if I fly out
Of this maze
Everytime
This happens
What does it
Make me?


Smile

A childhood smile
Mirrored in two faces
In a new season of love


Unreachable

The music of voice 
Once tasted
And made forbidden

Desire of the moth for the star
Night for the morn
Is that what you are?

Monday, November 10, 2014

Apology

Who am I to give you dreams and then spread snow all over them? No one would do that if they are in their right senses. But sometimes, when nothing remains sacred anymore, there is a sense that comes with breaking rules and running away from multitudes.

Now, the words themselves have lost meaning I guess from the time I last uttered them; totally meaningless chatter full of nervous laughter that doesn’t make much sense. May be the Gods are cruel because I am cruel to you; or may be they are not.

Only time is judge as to the torture that I inflict on you by giving dreams one day and spreading it with snow the next day. Words don’t mean much do they, but let me say that I am sorry for all this mess that I make everyday! 

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Kingfisher

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Closure

On this visit to my hometown, I was reminded of my last visits as I walked across the River Green. The river looked like a huge sheet of dirty green water while in my memory it was always a shiny green.

The last visits were on deaths; I never cried enough though I was carrying a cross and stood brave among the wailing women. But this time, though on a happy occasion, I felt the tears as they tumbled past on my return journey.

What all things I cried for I have no clue, the wasted years in search of a mirage, the lost opportunities, the life of strife and constant unpleasantness. But it gave me clue to a puzzle: that you might become for me a mirage that I will follow to destruction. 

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Beauty

It’s a craterly moon
That gets up at night
Puts on some light BB
And steps out for you.

No luminous skin
Just some BB cream
That lasts through
The entire day

With kissable lips
From Maybelline
With dark eyes
From the same

It was a fool heart
That knew no joys
That put on all this
To walk around happy

There was no bloodsign
Of joy and desire
Only a broken heart
But only sore words.

But time healed words
And the moon steps
Bright and clear
For all eyes to see.

It’s just layers of paint
Painstakingly done
From BB, CC and DD
Not what you think

You are late my dear
As always to reach
For a craterly moon
Belongs to the sonne.

Friday, October 10, 2014

Prayer

Can’t still this crying heart
That cries along with an innocent,
One wronged, accidentally,
One who wears his heart on the sleeve.

This heart cries everyday, every moment
For I have sinned against an innocent,
One who hasn’t learnt the ways of the world
One who wears his heart on his sleeve.

For seven long years I have not prayed
Nor moved these lips to silent reverence,
Whatever religion was only for comfort,
Not since I lost love on the way.

A right signal read at the wrong time,
My dear, it was only an accident,
But one that showed a clear heart
Untainted by this world of false love.

Can’t bear to see your broken soul,
Your sad face and lost happiness,
That tortures me day and night, so
I take up my beads to pray once again.

Tuesday, September 02, 2014

Secret Passions

When I first saw you I thought you looked familiar but I couldn’t place my finger on it. But in time, I remembered that it had something to do with the songs in another time and space, though lost and gone. Your mannerisms could bring back a secret passion for a quiet matter-of-fact friend. Without my knowledge, summer turned to spring and heard a new music from your heart, one that couldn’t understand nor could listen to without being led away from my real world. So turn back, clench my fists and try hard not to let the enemy of temptation enter my fortress. But the world around has not been blind either for there are no secret passions anymore but only hearts that crumble with every smile, real or fake. 

Sunday, August 03, 2014

Adorable

You are my reason to smile when all around life has become weary and tired. You worship me like a goddess counting each and every one of my steps on the ground while I rush past through the hustle and bustle of life. But in the toughest of these times, I hold your love like a talisman close to my heart; looking at your innocent ways to make me feel special, loved and cherished. 

Friday, February 14, 2014

Love

I would have become a different person today had it not been for you, with your insistence on the meaning of love. Like a fool, I danced to your many tunes only to find you changed at the end of the journey. Our paths have diverged and we no longer see eye to eye and in the midst of all this, a giant wall has been constructed. You are no longer there for me and am no longer there for you; the end of another true love story.  

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Stories

In a way, each story has the same kernel in it- our dreams, hopes and longing all lost and found again- the fire and the smiles and the hopes that love kindles and brings joy.

The stories that we write are not what really happened or events that could really happen. These come from an imagination that loves to wander and see what would have happened if!

Sometimes, it is sunshine and laughter outside; depends on the state of this mercurial soul. The reality looms large taking everything away and sometimes giving blessings unasked for.

Your stories reveal the joy of finding happiness in new things, which are in fact, new ways to name the old likes and loves while I harp on change and about moving on but have stayed in the same year where I stopped learning.

The fire still burns in these kernel stories of love, longing and loss and we have become like straight lines that run along throughout the many lives. 

Monday, January 27, 2014

Mistakes

You are my other; the one who helped me learn about life and my own self. You might have changed shapes, names and faces but you have left an imprint on my soul.

You called me sister and played with me beside the River Green. Then with the passage of time, you became a stranger who loves new faces and new sisters.

You called me love and entangled me in your passions and broke my heart with the ease of throwing away a used paper cup into the dustbin.

You called me mermaid and lured me into a whirlpool of words; only to show how good you were at playing around with words.

You are a lesson, a mistake, may be a chapter that I cannot forget, a face I cannot forget in spite of the years, in spite of all the bitterness and happiness that has filled this soul.

You have taught me how to live, how to be and how to love; the lessons are not bad as you can see for yourself. 

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Appendage to Bacon's great aphorism from "Of Studies"



Reading maketh a full man; Conference a ready man; Writing an exact man and Raymonds a complete man

Friday, January 10, 2014

Mentor

When I looked at the Christmas lights that year
It’s your special message that I remembered,
Then I thought of choosing a right gift for you
And couldn’t find anything good enough,
Then on advice from someone I thought wise
I gave you a diary with so many paintings…
Don’t know how you felt about it; free gift
It was but my friend admonished me so much
But I guess it had nothing to do with my gift
That you who were so dear went so far away
So far that you are more like a mirage than real
More like the taste of dreams from childhood.
I called you my mentor when you were around
Now eons later I still wonder if you liked my gift. 

Home

Home is where your heart goes back time and again, where you want to spend your quality time enjoying the activities that you like. Home i...