anil gupta's blog

You can climb on many trees
In search of sunlight
You can sprinkle smiles
To nurture many kites
You can illuminate the dark alleys
To be happy and bright
You can
You
Can

Purity of moments
Can not be measured
By making them monuments of arrogance
Indifference
And impatience
Kindness flows
When moments are not memorised
But dissolved
In the dutiful devotion

Insistence on remembering
Obliges one to not forget
How will then forgivance be possible
Without dissolving the follies
Of fortitude
How will we ever
Be compassionate

Why did you dig so deep
That all the rainwater
Got collected inside
Good that the fishes
Will bless you
But the dried drain
Outside
Wouldn’t know
Where to scatter floating seeds
Of serenity
Silence
And a bit of stupidity

Gracefully I age
On the banks of a dried river
When forgotten promises don’t come to haunt,
Transgressed fences don’t
Argue,
They merely
Submit
Nonchalantly,
The responsibility follows
But never enough
The creeper can not replace the trunk of a tree
The branches can perhaps bear
The load of my dream tree house
But when I descend from there
On the ground
Will I be able to persuade
The worker ants to make a nice strong mound
For me
Cool inside
No matter even if the fire rages
Outside

the wait did not yield
once again to the order,
you were as usual busy
with one thing after another
late and unable to keep the time
you decided to seek the liberty
to live certain moments again
you asked the god to unwind the clock

now that he has done it
you are complaining
may the sculpture be serene
may you sleep
may in wait
the time keeps patience
may it

Spawning the seeds
In the shallow waters
Did she ask
Whether the weather will
Be benign
Whether The fingerlings will find their way
In these uncertain times
Troubled waters
And lost directions
Will river care
Will the banks hold
Like the sculpture’s scalpel
Shape her contours
Or just swallow
All the passion
That waves bring to bear
On the floating see weeds
Unable to submerge
And unwilling to let them be
It is this struggle
That dictates
The design of a dilemma
I have been living
Over and over again
Without a helping hand
From the winds
And waves
Shores and the shales

Movies and moments jostle
What shall I go for
Asks the angel
And of course moments win
Once
Twice
And every time
Except
When I decided to surprise me
I switched on the Skype
And connected to a forlorn soul
Searching for a sanctuary
Where tigers love fishes
And convert them into falcons
Where the springs are streaming their music
All the night
Till the dew starts to dance
On the tip of a thorn of a cactus
That has never succeeded in piercing
The balloon of beautiful wishes
So light that it flies away
In to the far blue sky
Away, far away

Where there is no end
There is no way
Just a jungle
Just a tiger
Few falcons
Waiting for someone to die
And be devoured
By the eagles and the other birds
On the roof of
Sun temple

Oh! You will live in te veins of those birds
Flights of fancy
Away
Away
Far away in to the blue sky

Gracefully I age
On the banks of a dried river
When forgotten promises don’t come to haunt,
Transgressed fences don’t
Argue,
They merely
Submit
Nonchalantly,
The responsibility follows
But never enough
The creeper can not replace the trunk of a tree
The branches can perhaps bear
The load of my dream tree house
But when I descend from there
On the ground
Will I be able to persuade
The worker ants to make a nice strong mound
For me
Cool inside
No matter even if the fire rages
Outside

Threats of a storm can immobilise
The kindest boats
On the full moon night
When waves have a license
To take liberties with a shore
Raising its arms, like branches
Of a newly washed tree
In the season’s first rain
It might just yawn
But then
Fatigue does not prevent
It to seek freedom from
The throngs of a crocodile
But who knows
Which is better
Freedom and fatigue
Or freshness of a game of intrigue