Even Today

Even today
The words that you spoke
Are inscribed like holy verses on
The walls of my soul
That resemble palace of an ancient kingdom
Narrating tales of what remained unspoken
That contained heat of your breath
Diffusing perfume of myriads of rose-gardens;
Each brick of the palace of my soul
Has become an epic of Love
And somewhere in distant lands
Glaciers have melted to give way
To singing emerald meadows;

Even todayThe sitar of my soul
Produces melodious music
And sings the beautiful sonorous songs
Reverberated from the strings
Of beautiful sentences that you wrote;
Each calligraphic letter engraved eternally on my skin
Breathes of you;
My hot blood has given desired shapes
To these precious jewels
With which I adorn myself
For the grand ceremony
To be crowned as Queen of Babylon.

Even today
Dazzling diamantes of dots that you marked your words with
Trickle down my skin
Incarnating me as a handful of stardust
In beautiful mysterious worlds
Where I dreamt with you
Of dreams which are still yours;

Even today
The ink flowing from your pen
Gushes as a majestic sea inside me
Colouring me in shades of sapphire;
Fresh blue morning rises within me
And I fling a handful of pink morning stars
To the singing zephyr
That will soon shower this little gift of mine
On your bed where dreaming you lie in the arms of Slumber;

Even today
The flowers of your words
Bloom on my face
Swaying in glee
And the wet indigo sky steals
Evening ragas
From the smiling Spring of my heart.

Even todayThe fragrant breeze of your breath
Makes your iridescent words
Fall softly like cherry blossoms
In the lake of my eyes
Dipped in dark nights,
Where you walk surreptitiously
On the florid carpet of my dreams
To brighten my slumber
With the stars of your eyes
And enliven the idol of my soul
With your mesmerizing murmurs.

Even today
Your voice echoes in my ears
Shooting rain of hot stars in my blood
And caravan of cumulus clouds rise from
The moist heat of your breath
Traversing to parched desert of my eyes
A few drops glisten and then fall
To be soaked by thirsty sands
To give birth to colourful gardens
In some other eon, in some other land
Away from me...

For a Poem...

Words of a poem always float on the river of thoughts carrying with them kaleidoscopic boxes of things unknown, secrets breathing in each curvaceous letter and tiny dots. For each word I’ve travelled on misty roads of surreal worlds to collect dewdrops hidden in the wombs of rose-buds, to unveil the secrets in shadows left by pink twilight; mingled my visage with unknown characters from fables; roamed in mysterious streets to hear unspoken words from silent houses; have listened to the murmurs of streams hidden in lush green forests; have transformed myself as a light spirit to float above rain-soaked mountains leaving behind the real world where I lived in; traversed to arid deserts to paint the horizon sanguine with my heart-blood; have treasured in my soul the taste of partings; have allowed my shadow to travel to unknown worlds in search of perfection while my real one goes up in the smoke leaving behind nothing but trails of charcoal smudged like kohl around the eyes of a weeping bride; have infused my breaths to resuscitate lifeless worlds sleeping on a blade of grass only to compose a poem, and that also, much to my dismay, isn’t my magnum opus !

Snippets on Turbulent Waves

Time. It changes more quickly than the twinkling of an eye. By the moment the sky changes its colours or the wind changes its course, Time traverses from slices of seconds to bring vernal showers on arid deserts with the shake of its wings. While somewhere near the already swelling river, that stretches its arms to the farthest end, groping in darkness to hold onto something and ends up breaking its own heartstrings and bleeds profusely from inside, worlds get turned upside down. The flushed faces are ruined beyond recognition; effulgent lights are extinguished mercilessly in which soft faces with smiles were supposed to be seen. Huge venomous serpents hiss and sting where the wounds bleed the most leaving trail of blue poison in crevices of veins ever seen or thought of. How many mysteries dipped in tears toss and turn in bleeding wombs even the most sensitive of onlookers can’t discern. And soon Time, the merciless Nemesis, flings dark clouds of torrential rain to scatter the small huts of dreams as sand grains on raw banks, and silvery nets get entangled in the tails of mermaids called dreams getting suffocated to death. No light remains. The only time when eyes see something is under the cruel flashing of lightning, ready to engulf even the biggest of oceans. The earsplitting sound of thunderstorms makes the earth shake.

Amid such abysmal cataclysm she’s swimming maddeningly, to save whatever she can lay her hands on. Whatever comes her way, whatever she can fish out from the turbulent waters, whatever gets entangled in her shaking fingers. She swims, swims towards the sole eerie island tossing its head from tumultuous waves. It looks evanescent, quite far almost at the other end of this world, yet she wants to swim, fight with the killing tides and wants to be cremated there in the museum that she now has to build hurriedly ... To peep into its rooms and catch a glimpse of life punished by moments ... To see her own visage before it mixes with ghostly shadows ... To preserve a perishing smile, a jingling joy ... To save laughter gushing from deep within like frothy fountains ... To save the most beautiful sobriquet bestowed on her, which sounded saccharine whenever it resonated from a distance far away ... To keep hot breaths humming in her ears from becoming cold; that used to ignite her, shooting rain of stars in her blood ... To safeguard intoxicating words that became her lifeblood ... To conserve whispers, murmurs exchanged in tipsiness of gushing glee; glee of flying together in cloudless azure skies and running merrily on emerald grass ... To conserve destroyed dreams in iridescent colours spread once like sunshine in surreal worlds .. To preserve even sighs, that would become flickering fireflies in absolute darkness ...

Wails get coalesced in saline waves, and Time, the most uncaring of all friends, changes its course from swelling rivers to icy mountains only to bring chaotic changes; irreversible, unforgivable, unforgettable, hardly giving one a chance to salvage even the sliver of a second. It perishes everything that comes in its way turning rose-gardens into deserts and dreams into dust. What remains is only silence deadly in nature; almost that of a graveyard ... Unfortunately, none can anticipate anything for Time just tosses and turns silently flapping its wings noiselessly to bring forward what remains unseen ...

For You (III)

Tonight, I am very heavily drunk
Drunk with the wine of your love;
I have drunken the light of all the stars of the sky
Their glitter makes your name blaze as lightning in my veins;
I feel all the rivers of this earth
Flow ferociously in my blood
Brimming with your fathomless love.
Myriads of golden suns rejoice in celebration
And become the colour of my skin.

Tonight, your face becomes my looking glass
And reflects laughter that oozed like frothy fountains from deep within you,
The wild wind blows my raven tresses
Infusing it with tales of a thousand onyx nights.
Rose-gardens spring from pores of my skin
Leaving trails of iridescent colours wherever I go,
And Spring laughs on my lips
I feel my soul and body redolent with the heady scent of your breath;

Tonight, my heart is a goblet
Deeper than all the oceans
Overbrimming with your immeasurable love;
My soul sips from it again and again
And dances rapturously
In the grand palace of your heart
On the tune of your heartbeats _
Mellifluous symphonies that no-one ever heard in this world
Before whom even the glory of maestroes pale;
The melodious songs of this golden palace
Reverberate from my heart too.

Tonight, I levitate on facade of unseen beautiful worlds
Letting go of anything worldly,
I am too intoxicated to be in control
I become unending firework of joys
Shooting rain of spangled jewels all over this earth
This world appears to be a small green pearl
In the vast ocean of this universe
Where I swim and frolic
And drink more wine from the carafe of your heart
Ethereal songs beguile my senses
But I don’t know the meaning of any song
Yet, every inch of my skin is a maestro of ragas
And star Mushtari’s brilliance inveigles me
But I can’t see anything
Because I am drowned in the ocean of your light.
Tipsy taverns entice me
But you have made taverns of taverns flow in the cup of my heart

Let me be lost in this ocean,
Let me die in this moment,
Let me stay intoxicated forever,
Tonight, I am too drunk
To come back even to myself...

For You (II)

This night shall not pass into a dewy dawn,
This night is mine and only mine_
It is a chapter of myriads of years
Being written from eternity
With verses brushed with my kohl-laden eyelashes
And paintings embossed with sanguine heart-blood...

Tonight stars converse with me
About the cerulean sky of midnight
Holding lofty pine trees of your land
Closely to its bosom like a weepy beloved
Long lost in surreal world of dreams,
Whose spangled surface reflects your face or perhaps mine;
Because we are one.

A few Monsoon clouds,
After talking to the moon,
Whisper your tales in my ears
And adorn my earlobes as beautiful earrings
The song of winter wind
Shall scatter these clouds as raindrops to be transformed into soft snowflakes kissing your window-panes.
Tonight, you will travel from ice-capped mountains
To the brimming river of my poetry
On whose banks I wait for you
To melt in your arms,
Where exist my two worlds;
I feel the pearl of your soul safe within mine
Sealed with passionate kisses of love
That opens an endless book of unknown mysteries before me...

I hold you inside me like Holy Grail_untouched, unseen
Yet omnipresent like cosmic light;
You are what I ever know of Spring
And its fragrant flowers
Now carpeting the surface of my soul.
You are what I know of rare riches
More precious than treasures of Kings
Now mixed in the earth of my soul.
You are what I know of love and its divine secrets
Now seeped in the light of my soul,
Where you are the never-ending expanse of fresh blue sky,
And rise within me as a fathomless ocean
Flinging radiant rain of pearls inside me...

Tonight all your secrets are mine;
Tonight Divine Providence unites both of us as one soul
You are within me and I rise:
Above the dreams ever dreamt of,
Above the feelings ever felt,
Above the worlds ever imagined,
Above the sparkling stars,
Above the heights ever thought of,
From such heights
Death looks like a tiny insect, too small to destroy me
I can trample it under my feet;
Breaths lose their meanings
And dust returns to dust.
Your name which became my heartbeat echoes in misty valleys
The only refulgence that remains of me is you.

This night shall never end for me;
Its endless pages talk of you and me
And our fragrant breaths mingling above majestic mountains and starry skies;
You can wrap it with the endless sky of your love
And keep it safe
In the illuminated library
Of the luminous soul within your soul...

For you (I)

With the kohl of my eyes
I have written your name on the spacious sky
The sparkling stars melt to coat it with shimmer
And keep it safe in the coral of cosmos;
I infuse the light of my soul in each letter
To make it outdo the glimmer of galaxies
And cast its ethereal light
Where our souls merged into each other
To become one.

Now, I have become you
And fly fearlessly like a skylark amidst clouds
Picking golden granules of our eternal moments
In my rainbow coloured attire;
Somewhere from the Seventhfold Height
Shower of musk & amber
Wets your name
Making it float on the waves of the scented ocean
A few sanguine drops float on it too
That are oozing from my heart since time immemorial
I have saved a few drops in a quartz chalice
For you
I will fill it with Nile and present it to you
Before the white moonlight becomes my shroud
And pushes me into a dark cave_darker than the face of icy Death

You plant a tender kiss of your warm and soft lips on this chalice
And place it near your window
Behold the scarlet droplets of my heart-blood
Sip the effulgence of dawn
While you become I
And feel me flowing in your veins as your own blood
As it transmutes the solitary narcissus flower of your soul
Into a beautiful bride...

deserted road
pink and purple petals
carpet stones

Unanswered Questions

Jasmine is spreading its incense even in the dark corners
Of my heart bedazzled by the stars of your eyes
Brighter than Koh-I-Noor and deeper than canyons,
They wake up the mysterious ocean
Where lay sleeping a million hidden desires
Wrapped in corals encrusted with gold
They amalgamate and take the shape of a maiden
Standing before the dressing table of evanescent dreams
To adorn my face with moonlight kept in a delicate glassy jar,
That once lighted up the cerulean sea
And to decorate my raven mane with trinkets of stars
Spread all over the buried civilizations like countless dark nights
In whose curls mysteries open up and get hidden
To be excavated by someone like you sleeping in some other age.

A cloud of black locks kisses the scarlet liquid splattered
On a marble rock oozing from the heart of a bleeding red rose;
A few ruby droplets float on the waters of river Ganga
That mirrors magnificent mountain on whose chest lies Autumn
Weary from the burning love of the previous night,
Warm with hot breaths,
Heavy with her silky eyelashes that painted tales on the ceiling of the sky;

She flings her attire of amber and rust red over the mountain
Fragrant with the smell of fresh flowers growing near crystal clear blue lake
That recites the tale of Echo and Narcissus
Secure beneath the pillow
Smeared with verses unsung, unheard and unknown.
As dusk darkens I wll put the Dark Night as kohl around my eyes
And infuse the light of candles that have burnt since time immemorial in my soul.

Does the wind travelling over the majestic mountains and brimming brooks
Whisper something in your ears?
Tonight the moonlight will touch your ebony black hair very gently
And will tell you about a dewy pool
Secure under a canopy of lush green trees
Far away in the lap of Blue Mountains
Tossing and turning even in deep slumber
To the melodious tune of a song
Wafting in the cold thick air from the frosted twigs of Maple trees
That speaks of jingling gold jewels, the glittering dawn left
On emerald grass of your garden
Where I will tiptoe silently and emerge
As a glistening dewdrop
Reflecting a thousand suns
Before melting on your warm broad palm
As the azure sky gets folded up like an artist’s canvas
Embracing a magical painting
Clung to its surface
That sprays rainbow colours in the dewy pool
And creates ripples of unanswered questions…

To The Little Lonely Star

Why are you so alone?
O, little twinkling star
Lost in thoughts of your own?

Yet why every night
You behold me mysteriously
As if you know my lonely plight?

You are slowly burning your fire
In the loneliness of the sky
And no one to see your fire!

Come, glint in my dreamy eyes…

Noon

Left behind
As the blazing shadow
Of the glittering dawn
Noon
Finds no peace, no place to rest
In pink roses, verdant foliages, thick woods;
The gleaming drops
Of fountains
Sip its saccharine glister
Leaving it exhausted
Like a tired traveller
Lost in dells;
Finally,
Inhaling the sweet fragrance
Of breeze
It surrenders its life
In the arms of its long awaited beloved;
The pink twilight…

An Incomplete Poem

Tired, fed up with neutral monotony of life
The mind comes out
Of the mists of profound thoughts
And in slight tipsiness of rapture
It collects:
Glittering stars,
Glinting sun’s rays,
Glimmering moon-beams,
Glistening pearls,
And with these gleaming particles
It tries to compose a poem of glittering words
But then something interrupts its reverie
And the glimmering particles
Get scattered in the hands of Imagination
Taking which it vanishes
In unknown evanescence
And only remains
The jingling sound of glittering particles
And their shadows
As an incomplete poem…

Escapade

Blue water danced before her eyes spreading plumes like peacocks, vast as heaven, majestic in its own right, yet mysterious as an unknown civilization.

The indigo liquid beneath seemed to uncork and splash its spray of freshness all over almost bathing the sky. Even the sky looked intoxicated with blue. It looked alluring, inviting. Inviting freedom to take her on a journey of bliss where even angels do not tread; away, away on wings of clouds to the ethereal world hidden in colours of rainbow, to jungle of stars and to crown her as their Empress.

Screen savers always provide escapades...

On a Wet Night

I am wandering on this earth from eternity
From eon to eon in search of a slice of Time
Treasured perhaps in the depths of oceans
Or inside a house of Qahira emerging from smoke of hearts being burnt;
It may be wrapped in a red velvet purse with silk tassels tenderly kissed by the lips of the roses growing near the huge bed of Princess Sheherzade
Tonight the stars struggle to peep from behind the ghostly tents of Monsoon clouds,
I walk in empty streets
As Slumber enters the empty valleys hidden behind black curly curtains in Baghdad, Damascus and Patliputra
The giant trees stand like spectres of Doom while the raging Nemesis whips them with a swishing sound.
My umbrella swells with the vociferous wind and uproots itself from my fingers to fight the Nemesis.
The hidden stars above defy the destiny and come down as raindrops or tears perhaps;
The wet sleeve of my dress gives way to a gushing brook lost somewhere in green hillocks
Looking like a shawl wrapped around the shoulders of Penelope ambiguous yet awaken after the earth has changed its colours;
Thunderstorms produce sound of bugle that will be blown on the Day of Judgment,
While on the gigantic pearl safe in shell of ruby many figures vanish
And emerge and re-emerge in different shapes, colours
On jade-green grass, parched Sahara and icy head of earth
Surreal like the raindrops that fall on different heights of palaces, huts and brickwalls
United together with the strings of destiny;
My umbrella has gone up with the clouds to beat the Demon of Death
Soaring high as royal falcon
In search of another cosmos, another life, another eon
While my parched soul solitarily waits for its wings under the huge peepal tree nodding its branches in disapproval...

Stardust

Last night the cold stars shining above Assyria
May have spoken to you about me
While I was roaming in the streets of Babylon,
Inhabited with houses wrapped in wisps of misty dreams,
Listening to the sweet songs of a minstrel
Longing for the Moon under the purple grapevine.
The rustle of my midnight-blue attire
Mingled with the soft whispers of wind kissing lofty minarets penetrating the swollen tent of the blue black sky;
I travelled on the wings of the wind
Over the fresh aquamarine ocean gleaming in starlight
That whispered tales of mysteries tossing in its womb
And about the smell it left on the skins of sailors;
The wind took me up and up
To the glittering world of stars which smiled and told tales
Of dreams, darkness and dreadfulness in the streets, walls, ponds and palaces
Of Jerusalem, Egypt and Magadha.
They appeared like glitter on the body and hair of a newly-wed bride
Who rubbed the glimmering particles off her body and gazed at nothingness in amusement
The sky too gazed at this bride
Taking a dip in the fresh blue water of Nile.
When you wake up the next morning
You will find the air thick with dew
While a few drops glisten on your fingertips
And on empty swings in deserted rose gardens
Tonight you may not find me in caves of Nalanda
Or in the gleaming Sahara.
Sit on the pristine banks of Yamuna
And wipe the tear hanging on the eyelashes of Time glittering with stardust of all the eons;

Tonight the sky will look like a dark gown wrapped around the body of a widowed queen
While the waning moon will adjust itself on her shoulder like a faded silver brooch...

Morning

This Night adorns her hair with a sweet-scented rose

Plucked from a wild shrub bent on a pristine tomb of Naishapur.

The sickle of the Moon whispers something to cold stars: faces of myriads of princesses

sleeping on the dew-laden blades of emerald grass while surreal images take shape in their souls;

Destiny, from its ruby shell, has flung the diamond of luminous Zohra in the blue crystal ball

The clear azure liquid gets scattered all over

On gardens of King Zulqarnain and lofty minarets of Blue Mosque

The scene is beautiful like harvest of indigo sprinkled on waters of river Farat

The painter dips his brush in this blue liquid

To paint peacocks on the walls

Of a palace sleeping in the lap of an eon gone by.

The poet uses this fresh blue ink to write a song on the mirror of Nile

And empties the chalice filled with his shadow in the caves of Nalanda

To treasure its sapphire blue hue;

For ages I have been longing to sip a droplet of this blue liquid...

Surreal Images

Ink gets spread on the hands of a misty morning
That your pen steals from my blue attire;
The moon has travelled from your palm to rise at the pipal treetops of ruined Magadh Empire;
This time you steal light from the molten stars of the onyx Night
And infuse the radiance in the poems written for me!

Ah! I am not Banalata Sen sitting on the pristine banks of a calm river…

The little girl within her is trying to flit out again and press her small yet sharp nose against the chilly window panes curtained by needles of rain from outside. She suffocated the girl within her that seemed to tarnish the light in her large dreamy eyes auburn like winter nights; very cold enveloped in mist surreptitiously hiding many tales in its dark depths yet sometimes a log creaked and beamed giving a sharp focus on things around that died as soon as it was lit.

The sharp needles outside seemed to pierce somewhere deep inside her soul where the little girl shrank and only groped in darkness out of horror. But she couldn’t find any rope for support and with unwillingness she shrank further in the dark sodden couch. On the ink blue winter sky she could see patches of clouds amalgamating as if to confine the earth in a tent of huge grey sheet of rain. She closed her eyes and tried to hear the sound of musical notes floating from the other room that made her body jingle like a harp_sensation of joy filled the empty cup but before she could drink it the massive octopus drank it looming out of her veins floating in her system with the blood cells. She could feel its massive weight even on her soul. She wanted to throw it out of her system but it got so intertwined with her cells that it was akin to taking out a huge organ of your own system with your own hands with all the strength you could gather but the wounds get deeper for its roots have enveloped even the core of the earth and in the end you’d only exhaust your energy wounding the earth at the same time.

Blue poison did not show its marks on her skin but definitely it was eating her slowly almost like boiling water in the pot gets reduced to half. The fumes do not come out and accumulate inside. Before her eyes came a state of some kind when she’d be forced to give up dreaming, thinking and creating a myriad shapes even if elusive, out of her imagination. And there she’d lie in a corner like a beautiful dry twig with even its leaves painted in golden and the flowers a result of someone else’s imagination may be burnt orange, purple or even black. The twig wouldn’t grow nor would its flowers bloom or leaves fall. Yet the twig would be alive aware of every movement and numb to even its own reactions which is most necessary for life; if life is what we call as life.

The hour glass on the bookshelf between masterpieces of Gibran and Neruda is staring at her face with an icy look. Beads of perspiration glisten, she opens the window to get pricked by steely needles falling outside in unseen darkness. Frosty winter wind flings itself on her almost blocking the light in which she was supposed to be seen, at least.

A story, especially a short one, takes the reader on its very own unique journey introducing him to pain that he already is familiar with but which is hidden in crevices so deep that it remains unfathomable and unexpressed and in the story 'Hell-Heaven' explores such depths making the characters become alive before the eyes of the reader. And the reader empathizes with their deep pain and small joys trying all this while to find some salve for the unseen bleeding wounds. While reading the part of the story when Aparna tries to kill herself I could feel the chilly air penetrating my bones! Fears, pains and joys touch everyone in this world but sometimes when a writer's finger touches a reader's pulse it suffices in letting one feel the intensity of emotions one gets detached with. Many unfulfilled wishes and glassy dreams hidden in human heart give way for silent desires to flourish even in the narrowest veins that unfold curtains of many hues of life making way for clear light in
which unseen emotions are seen and 'Hell-Heaven' is a window to let this light come and set stage for marvellous art of story telling that Jhumpa Lahiri has mastered. It reminds me of the art of James Joyce and Virginia Woolf whose faint traces I see as the story throws open a treasure of subtle emotions. This story is a shiny gem which I am going to treasure on my shelf.

Some unknown Voices Call Me

Impishly the starlit sky I behold
Trying to explore the arcane glint
Of the stars
That seeps in the crevices
Of my thoughts,
While the penumbra of stars
Get scattered on the vitreous surface of cosmos
I stand still
As cool breeze touches me
Caressing my raven hair;
Something melts in my reverie
That inveigles me
In mellifluous whispers
That grow in voices
Inviting me to come with them
I look around but find only stars
Beholding me silently
And the breeze touching me gently
The unknown voices keep calling me
Spell-bound I hear these voices
That make me dream of unseen flowers,lands & brooks
Reminding me of my own dreams
Scattered as stars
Enchanted,
I follow the unknown voices calling me
With stars above my head
And with the earth beneath my feet,
That reflects some ethereal beams
In whose mystic glimmer
My figure melts
As I keep walking…………..

The Beauty of Moonlit Night

Sittin’ near the lake I see a bright tinge appear in the middle
As in the sombre blue sky comes the moon in her chariot of pearl
Girting her silvery hue around groves of mango trees
While mango-foliages sway in cool summer breeze;
On tiny flowers showers the moon her rays glittering
Before whom look tarnished millions of stars twinkling,
The little flowers sip ethereal silver drops of the moon
And in ecstacy of opening their petals pretty they swoon;
Dance the waves of the lake glistening like molten silver
And the dark night becomes a beautiful painting in silver;
The beautiful night makes me feel as if I were in Eden
Free from the ugliness of this world revealin’ Beauty arcane,
My soul beholds Beauty in her pure divine light
That flashes & makes me pen the beauty of moonlit night.

A Few Inky Words

On the yellow piece of paper
I stash your words
And behold them everyday
That you wrote for me_
Today on this dew laden dawn
Those inky words
Get spread in the azure nothingness
(Your promises)
Bringing down the rain of unseen colours
For me
That mingles with drops of my heart blood
Seeped in dust
Where bloom red roses
Emanating your fragrance
Making me swoon
And with my eyes half dreaming
I hear melodious songs
(Of love)?
In my dreamy tipsiness
I behold
An ocean of blue ink
Rising & vanishing
As words written by you fade away
In unknown expanse of misty green
Where I see my life
Slipping away like sand from fist
Leaving your name in my palm lines
In which fills colour my heart-blood
As the world moves on………

Whenever

Whenever,
The frisky breeze plays with my hair
I feel it’s you;
Whenever,
The morning sun kisses my face
I feel the warmth of your breath on it;
Whenever,
The foliages rustle
I feel you’re whispering something in my ears;
Whenever,
The moon rises in the sky
I feel you are smiling at me;
Whenever,
The glittering stars stare at me
I feel your shiny eyes are watching me;
Whenever,
I walk alone on paths
I feel you are walking with me;
Whenever,
Pink twilight grows around
I feel you’re putting your arms around me;
Whenever,
Sleep comes in my eyes
I feel I dream lying on your chest;
Whenever,
I am lost in oblivion
I feel I’m not alone;
I am in your arms
And
Every moment
I mingle in you
Like a river in the ocean
As you pour love
Passionately inside me;
And Time stands still
Watching me
As I become yours
Melting in your arms
Even when solitary
I remain …

Tale of Beauty

The sparkling bright mirror
Reflects the charm of Beauty
As she gazes mesmerizes
At her own reflection_
Her large raven eyes
Untouched,
That bards delicately depict
In poems of Love,
Sulk & stare back at her;
Her pink lips
Turning red with hotness
Stay parched
Emanating their nectar in oblivion;
Her face smooth & soft
Where bloom myriad roses
Sigh ‘n’ lament
As her raven locks
Dark as nights of winter
Softly frame her lovely face
Woven with untouched purity;
Slowly these untouched jewels of Beauty
Fade away
With the smoke of Time
And her youth passes by
Crossing the stony path of Life
Bleeding slowly
Crawling
Towards end!

Devote I my destiny to take shape in your faith
I’ve made yours my each smile & breath
Either you drown me or take me ashore
In your hands give I my Life’n’ Death…

Drunkard I am not yet I swoon
For me vintage wine is no boon
Escape I the streets of vintners & bars
But get drowned in your eyes soon………

Away, away the bee is going from the rose
O’! To see the book of Joy close
Autumn has buried petals beneath dust
And a tale of Love in sadness grows………

Search

When rain-drenched leaves waft their smell
And in the grey sky clouds wander alone
From behind whom the golden sunbeams peep;
When, on the singing twigs of trees,
Butterflies tipsy with joy spread their colours
Then at this time do you remember,
That someone is waiting for you,
With a smiling face & eyes full of rose-tinted dreams
These dreamy eyes will look only for you
Even if raven hair will show wires of silver
Even if thousand seasons will change
In different seasons, flowers & faces
As if you’re somewhere around?!
Do you also look for those dreamy eyes & smiling face
In any flower, song or butterfly;
In fresh whiff of breeze
And pink twilight?

Will you come

The way crimson sunrays arrive after the dark night;
The way Spring gives life to withered roses;
The way iridescent rainbow smiles from behind gray folds of sky;
The way desert comes alive when raindrops dance on it;
The way stars brighten up the dark sky;
The way fragrant breeze enlivens a dull afternoon;
The way the lotus of dreams blooms in the lakes of eyes;
The way in the dying soul a drop containing an ocean enters
Will you also come,
That way
To give
Life to my life?

Smoke rises
In a corner
Sweaty bread

Orange blossoms
Smell of dawn
Fill your cup