anil gupta's blog

Swollen knees,
punctured leaves,
smiling skies,
undecided fences
, don’t come close
, stars are falling

Fallen hills,
wrinkled smiles,
ever observant eyes,
broken teeth,
looks a bit wry

Don’t ask questions
Because answers are known
Missing the right turns
Because of compulsions to travel
Together
Have already taken you far
Away from the crossroads
Where signposts were displayed
Don’t regret
For, the time doesn’t rescue
What is destined to dissolve
In the rain
Let the residues not bother
Let the lost turns augur
Well
For future distractions

Absorbed all the warmth in
Chilly nights when
Foggy mornings
Couldn’t dampen my glasses,
I looked up to you
For the
Solace
But the fuzzy frolics
Of dancing dew drops
Couldn’t be persuaded
I am hopeful
Still

The abandoned fortress
Broken pillars
Will you like to live in a tree house?
And then throw the stairs away
So that you can not get down
May be, the wings will grow then
You can fly
Away to black sky
And I will collect some fAllen feathers
Which you would have outgrown
And use those as a book mark

Windows are open
For birds to fly
May no one ask,
Why
The red doors are just ajar
Don’t knock
Don’t knock
Come inside
O! Wind from so far
Unwrap the time
Unfold the tide
May the future
Have truthful waves
Even if boats are required to be sacrificed
May you fly, leaving no roped tied

Irony
Wisdom betrayed
Detachment
Clothed in
Devotional wrappers
New signposts
Are installed now
Follow them and go your way
We will give you a farewell
And pave all the paths
With love
That doesn’t demand
Reciprocity
Or retribution
Bless you

why has that tree dried
from which i had collected a leaf for you
not too long ago
is it that the tree can not withstand
the stoppage of the stream
which used to nourish its roots any more,
but the tree had promised
itself to grow and live
lest birds doent feel betrayed
and leaves continue to fall
to adorn the
loosely bound diaries
of those who now
flip
pages
and dust all traces of
authentic smiles
and cover them
with remnants of prayers
at the altar of new gods

in autumn
truth is possible
in spring
it will become apparent any way
how does one oscillate between
the two seasons
masking pain
or pleasure
is easy
why is
deflecting from goals
so easy?

A yellow Milky Way
Separated the two banks of the red river
Black sky
Green stars
And white
Eyes
And the triangles of feelings
Nothing more to say
Nothing more to hear
Words were sucked
By the black hole
Of vain desires
And
Successful prayers