Homes out of human beings

a poem by

They say don’t put all your eggs in one basket
It’s the same with humans too, don’t ever forget
The more you trust only one person
The worse the pain when it all comes undone
Don’t fall for the charm, words and promises
You’ll end up alone trying to put together the pieces
Love yourself first; only then others embrace
You never know what lurks behind that innocent face
You can’t make homes out of human beings
They too are human – different outside, different within

Happy again

a poem by

My throat constricts
As I remember all those times
You said you loved me
In elaborate poems and rhymes
What happened then?
What transpired in between?
Did you get bored and move on
Or did those promises nothing mean?
I’m sitting alone here now
Staring into the dark
Trying to put together pieces of me
Where you’d once left your mark
I wonder what I did wrong
Where did I falter
But what’s the point now
It all doesn’t matter
All that matters now
Is that you broke my heart
Knowing very well
It had already once been torn apart
So here’s my goodbye
Although you’re already long gone
I don’t wish you happiness
Nor that you get all that you want
How a disease is eradicated
I want to be rid of you too
I want to be happy again
And happy again without you

Waves

a poem by

Waves are too long
Perhaps sometimes short.
They slide onto seashore,
With an aspiring hope, to
Bring about a smile on million faces.
They try harder to come up,
Thus giving Nature its beauty.
They are never bored of gliding into sea,
Never aggravating, Never dismayed.
Their Nature seems to be calm and peaceful.
Humans feel joyous to glance them.
But fail to be like them.

The soul discovers its eternity

a poem by

In continuous thoughts
The mind becomes an opaque screen
Imprisoned in the world of shapes, of forms
Else it’s engaged in the consciousness of
The unmanifested, the beyond
But
In walking with nature
My mind honours that rapturous realm
Absorbed to the brim
Leaving no space for its mental habit
Of labeling

A tranquil wave of freedom sweeps over me
Stillness echoes laughter of the winds
Silence screams ecstasy
To the grace of the mighty mountains

In a glorious burst of white
The sun-kissing peaks reflect expressive colours
The mind’s eye moves across
The compelling canvas
To suit its parameters of art and beauty

The walk with nature continues

In the immeasurable, infinite umbrella of blue
The upward gaze connects
With diverse philosophical strands

The silent core of the being
Discovers romance
In penning these lines and
Bows its head to the elements
Earth, water, air, fire and space
Symbols of birth, re-birth, life, death
Nostalgia and joy

The soul in its metaphorical journey of love
Discovers its own eternity.

Black Night

a poem by

Mid this commemoration,
Of annihilation
Of inclinations
And pursuits,
My soul revels
In these fervent goodbyes.
The stiff and the spiritless,
Scream my name.
They exult and glorify
This celebration.
Agony,
Candid in it’s certainty,
Leaves always,
To re-appear
And these sorrows,
Admit themselves,
Never to leave.

Dark Night

a poem by

This servitude eternal,
Bound by duty and faith,
I find hope fading,
Devoured by these,
Ordeals.
These trials,
Harbingers of all
That is ordained,
Also conduct terrible fate.
Dread comes,
For this bounding main
Of darkness,
Lies absolute.
Imploring for diligence,
We are engulfed.

Agony of a tale

a poem by

A tale which bleeds from the masses
To make the deaf hear,
Isn’t making the deaf heard but
Clotting their ears.

Louder voices raised and mass protests
Agonious and achy voices theirs,
Yes, harder it is to make
The pretended to awake.

Red, red, red are their shirts
No, no! It’s not Holi.
Houses are (tiger) corridors now
Yes! It’s judgement folly.

Hoarse whispering of colleagues,
No, no! Not colleagues (of office)
Entrenched demurrers on the streets,
They bleed to flow a tale without fatigue.

Darker his days amidst aristocrats,
Nature complies, state conspires,
“Renewed History”, he can’t comply.
Who says, “Night is darker”?

Dissenting is his birthright,
Nothing to fear, men!
Nature assured we have nothing
But to loose our chain.

Let’s  ask a nude tree
How she feels in winter,
Leafless or lifeless she is?
We don’t care…

Shades of Love

a poem by

Having you is my desire,
needing you is to be honest.
Love those eyes with Which you admire,
I won’t even let you be modest.

I still remember… a dark cloudy evening
with wind playing as harbingers of our love.
While we stood kissed by each others souls.
Life just seemed to slow down it’s pace;
for it suddenly felt I lived everything that once seemed like a race.

The path was unseen,
the destination was unknown.
The feeling was of innocence
for I felt  I was reborn.

Garret

a poem by

He lay against the aging wall of a garret,
His fingers scrape across the canvas,
A charcoal stick uncrushed,
His brushes, drained of their ability to bleed
A plastic heart that could never beat to its own rhythm,
And an evanescent muse,
Whose worth was realized a little too late

Non-stop

a poem by

Her mind wanders late at night,
Remembering the taste of everything she had in front of her sight.
Red, blue, black and green,
Were all the colours she would ever dream.
She was that drop most,
Which no one wants to disturb,
Stuble in nature yet fierce overall.
She would take all your darkness,
To show you the worth of light.
Life wasn’t easy,
But worth the fight.
She didn’t like flowers,
Yet adored the beauty with all of her heart.
And she stood so proud,
With all her flaws no doubt.
Because she had something to go for,
Maybe others didn’t see it,
But in her eyes it was worth all.
Cause no matter how long was the path,
She could fly nonstop

Unknown

a poem by

I asked the night, last night, where was I
The moon replied, in the high tide
The swelling mirror of waves
The unruly pulses
In the plebiscite of likes n not much likes
In the wait for morning stars to lead me out of me
Is it that I cannot be me
Or can’t be with me.
I asked the night, last night, where was I?

Shiva’s silence

a poem by

Shiva’s silence?
Noon image
Futility of a clinging sun
On the breast of a shamed, helpless sky
The exquisite architecture
Of the Kedarnath Shrine
Tracing centuries of mythology
Warms to yellow
Yet we hear no echo that recalls rhythms of life

Shiva, the bestower of longevity
Trapped the descending Ganges in his hair
Absorbing her fall
Yet today, he thrust the Mandakini down from the
High trapeze of ruthless glaciers
Washing villages off the map
Dragging scarlet remains
Of annihilated beings
That belong to the river now.

Shiva played the conventional destroyer
Oblivious to the difference between
Beautiful and ugly
Between man and ghost
Between life and death
He watched the tandav of nature
As the debris at the temple threshold
Gathered heaps of bones, bodies and
Vestiges of life
Are these merely cultural delusions
For Shiva the supreme hermit?

A vertiginous night descends
Sad lights on the mountain scape
Rise out of blackened waters
The cadence of darkness is mine alone today
I sit to write the countless forgotten names
In my remembrance diary
Uncertain thoughts ask of the
Lone survivor – the shiv-linga*
Why is life so short
Why is death so long?

An Empty Nest

a poem by

A lonely heart resides in an empty nest
A mother’s anguish cannot be expressed.
My little bird has grown wings
It is time to cut those apron strings.
Fly high to seek the heights of success
Surf the stormy waves, defeat those who try to oppress.
Dive into the endless ocean of knowledge
Work hard to seek it, to perfect it to have an edge.
Look not back – ride ahead, make your future bright
I shall be behind you to support you outright.

Insecticides

a poem by

O’ the houseflies in my dine
Craving noodles like a vine
Licking through my milk-bowl line
Once you taste that’s no more mine.
That’s no fine!

O’ the mosquito in my bed
I’ve no All Out, no mosquito shed
Nothing such to lay you dead
But you got be malaria-fed!
That’s so dread!

O’ the cockroach in my bathroom
I never used Odonil or a broom
To get your honour face its doom
But you chased me out so soon
You get no boon.

O’ the wasp in my garden
Won’t spare you, you’re no burden
You’ve bitten me thrice in life
That stung like the butcher’s knife
Your buzz do not please my mind
For I know you’re hatred-bind
For which now, I’m no kind.

My inner beings by now abide
Embrace the power of insecticide