anil gupta's blog

Tulsi -3

15. 5. 06

Why shall the broken pots

With your saplings,

still green

Be of concern to

Me,

I donot worship the pot

Or the sapling

I am devoted to your aroma

That you share so unhesitatingly

With the world

To sublimate their

Desires

And demands

Into a prayer

That I/they  recite

Every morning

And also every night

Before I sleep

If I sleep

Tulsi – 2

Standing like a guard

At the gate of my emotions

Guiding me to do this and not that

Staring at me

In anger at times

But frustrated

With my inability to rhyme

Or resonate

With your changing moods

or colours

With every season

Will you abandon me

Or embrace

Does not matter so much

So long as I remain the reason

Of the pains that shriveled leaves

Display

In the courtyard of quivering sounds

Of  devotees at your bank

Of river of  irreverent smiles

when the yearnings give way

life demands a price

for absorbing the sounds of

falling leaves

and walking on a green lawn togther

singing and swinging,

but then life also demands

what only time will tell

whether one could offer

the fairness

in finding the answers

to difficult questions

and a trust

that one will face them

even when asked to question

the very basic assumption

seasaw will continue to swing,

best is to remove the fulcrum

who knows what time forebodes,

life must not ever shun

the vibes of valour will not sanction,

what desires for being fair and just

will commission

took one round
and tried to proceed
but your branches
swayed as these werre
by light breeze
got hold of
my
scarf
asking me as if
to pause and turn
how could have i returned
the bag of memories
was
burried
in the pot
in which  you grow
O tulsi

Like a wave unintended

You embrace all the banks

Not caring for the little flower,

Crumpled,

But with a fistful of sand

That I bring to you

Without much to say or do

Will you enclose me

In the closet of your leaves

Like a drop of dew

Devoted, persistent, and always

Pure

May 15, 2006 8 am

how do i explain  why do i keep awake

i love to sleep

deep

with memories

that i can keep

but then why do i keep awake

I am a witness to your grace

But having lost my eyesight,

I can describe the smell, feel, and the spirit

Of how you entered my

Courtyard Of conscience

and dug up all the flower beds which were

lying untilled

full of ‘weed, thorny bushes and the cactii’

and then it rained,

u let the water soak the dry soil,

embrace it as if it had not been cared and tended

for centuries

sowed the seeds of expectations

all the while denying that

it was your purpose

why not, after all, only through these expectations

we rise in each others’ calling

but you have

already disarmed me,

taken all the reasons from me to thank you,

your mercies are beyond count

but your reprimands are my treasures

for, I am trying to be their

exclusive inheritor

May 25, 2004 ny 9.52 ist

2:

take all or none, she said

I was not sure, if I had a bag,

big enough

With me,

to contain all what she offered,

But then she would not tailor her gift

To the size of my

Bag

What will I do,

Collect more bags, or deny her gift

Or ask her to pour it

slowly and slowly

So that I absorb it in

The folds of my soul

Having aseeemit ( infinite) space

But will she have patience

still i search
still i endure
still i carve out
the engravings on the rock
that still has the etches
left behind by strong winds

may be i still remember
and therefor u ask
do u still forget
to take tea
or leave the spoon in the cup
till it dissipates all the heat
of the tea in the air
leaving it cold
very cold
i have actually never told
how cold

i liked the irreverence of clouds,

i despise my curtains though

why did i close the window

why did i switch off the light

and then removed the curtains

how would wind know

that it had to force open the window

lest you are accused of letting her come in

and absorb all of you