does it matter whose mirror is it anyway

does it matter
whose mirror is it any way
why did i say that this mirror you show is not mine
may be i was not sure
the convexity of your mirror
will amplify all the warts of my mind

may be
it will mask
the minor errors
which may have enabled my mind
to swallow
lot of falsehood so far
but will not some impurity help
to contrast the truth with its background
may be
may be not

morning mist
cloudy sky
far horizon
all this appears as if i never touched your
feet
out of respect of fear

when right is really wrong

which decisions are right
which one are wrong
does not depend upon expediency
the opportunism is a tactical victory
but it may cost seed
a deeper placement
how deep then roots go, one does not know
whether right question is what one will sow
or wrong creeper will really grow
on the stilts of sighs and
wry smiles
do we really know

Forgive till you get fatigued

I m fatigued now
Tried to forgive indiscretions
Time and again
Hoping wisdom will prevail
But now that limits have been reached
May be the bunds will have to be broken
May be the kindness is seen as
A weakness of spirit
May be

One who has always seeded the garden
Will have to do weeding
Painful but inevitable
Limits have been reached
Wisdom does not prevail anymore
May be

try it

knots will not resolve
so easily
dont beat the rope so hard
it will not give way
the bridge will stay still
but then truth is not so difficult
try it

quiet retreat

slower slide of the stones
tilted landscape
broken mirror
torn territories
dont console
dont embrace
i have filled my jar
with a lot of tears
now i will irrigate my pots with it
so that all the sprouted seedlings die quietly
no expectation, no frustration
silence, sudden strife
quiet retreat
this is life

Why peel the onions

Why peel the onions
Why insist that
Under each layer
Truth must be buried
Why insist
That you should discover only truth
This insistence is not
A fair expectation,
Settle for less
Even if you think you deserve more,
The balance is tilted
The urgent has become important
Not the other way around
Nothing will change it
You can not command
That one sticks to the stated ends
Muddle through
If you can

Deer song


There were many deers in the jungle
Some played together
And some were detested by others
One day one of them asked
The other,
If You don’t mind, please tell me
What will you do when wind doesn’t blow your way
She replied
I will raise the dust by kicking around
Till you run away
The deer lowered his face
And walked away
Second deer asked her
Hesitatingly,
What will she do, if the it doesn’t rain enough
Next season
The deer was not in a mood to relent
She said
If you stand near the pool
Of water,
I will dance in it and splash
All the mud till it filled your eyes
Deer felt desolate
And went back

The third deer was a bit different

He didnt want to ask any question
He just came near the she deer and stood silently
She asked him, what do you want to ask, ask
He still kept quiet
She said
You know what you are thinking
He asked, if she knew then why didnot she answer herself
She jumped around a bit
And then said
You want me to sing for you
But you don’t know that
My songs are not for you
If you ask again
I will sing indeed
But not the song you want to hear
I will sing the song you
Don’t want to hear
And then if you cry
I will not care and she walked away
The he deer was still quiet
And has since remained quiet

tired stains

stains on my collar are there for long
dont notice them now
i am tired of washing them all over
again
and again

who knows clean shirt
will make us hesitant to even dig a small nursery
to sow the seeds of flowers
that will sprout despite all the cold
and blossom
when i am tired
and fatigued
as today

lest prayers are answered

lest my prayers are answered
i kept quiet
and looked down
and walked further
indecisive
and uncertain
hoping that a whiff of air
will take away this confusion
may be the untimely rain will wash
my spectacles and i can then see clearly

Not having to wait is also a liberation

I used to wait
Till the traveller
Reached his destination
Not that it meant anything
But now
We need a ritual less
More we erode the need for rituals
We can deal
With
Real acts
Reaching is less important
The dialogue within
On the way
Stillness
Standing apart
Is all that matters
It does
At least
It seems so