anil gupta's blog

Dont ask the directions
When you get lost
Somebody might actually
Tell you
And rob you of reason
To stay lost

when he saw

i am not going any where after getting down

how do i tell him

that i have gotten down

but not gotten away

let me try to think about that

till then

let parking lot

become a party plot

whether one gets lost
or reverberates in the simmering lake
on the edge of a mountain
which has suddenly realised
that it has a volcano in its womb
does it matter
it doesnt
except when
search
leads
to substance
that can not be washed away
it stays stuck
on the paper
on which you start to paint a picture
and then colours evaporate
and canvas acquires cosmic colour
( creamy white).

khwahish ab kya karun, kuchh bhi theek lagta nahin
tumhari khamoshi,
kuchh soch samajh kar ugayi jhadi ki tarah
ab parakartik nahin lagti
shayad, tum kuchh ghonsley bunaney mein lagi ho
jinmein rehney waley panchi
tumhari itni sundar bunayi muhtaj nahin hai
unhey
wo to mulayam hathon se banayey ghaas ke thikaney pasand
kartey hain,
sach
aur safai
se apni baat kehney waley
thinkaney
bana sakti ho?

i pray often
that is actually
my true ‘character’
said the flute
quietly
when wind came too close
for comfort
she shivered
shuddered
now
there will be a strong gust of breeze
all untold songs will be sung
all unspoken sounds
will be heard
and then there was music
by that time
i had become deaf

haven’t anything to forget
but a lot to forgive
the fields left behind
untilled
will not be cultivated in near future
but you can till them
grow
whatever you want
freedom, yes, freedom is what you wanted

enjoy
freedom from my prayers
freedom from my expectations
freedom
from the responsibilities
i thought belonged to you
scars are deep
and have started to heal
let us not scratch them
i can only pray
and will always pray
i prayed in the past too
the glow
around the lakes of love
is nothing but reflections of my prayers
like floating lamps in that lake
one, which had dried then
when you had taken your herd of sheep
to graze on a green deep pasture
now sheep have returned,
pasture has dried
lake is indifferent
and i am painting
writing
walking and smiling
with new hopes
from new soldiers in the war
against my inner doubts

the grasslands inside the heart
how come, overgrazed so much
in some part
have you let someone swallow
all the dew
or is it just a clever but lovely slew

come clean, o dear red horse, leave your pelf
don’t run so fast, don’t hurt yourself

i will always wish
that you grow
so what, if it does not show
we don’t trust only what we see
we just try, try hard to be

so soon
an eclipse of moon
just yesterday
there was so much light
why has the night become
so white
is it that stars have lost all their colour
or is it that fighters have lost, all their valour
what is the reason
why so much treason
why are you quiet
why is the night so white

why should we expect more
from us and from others
will that not frustrate
make us tired
and some time
lower down our own self respect, said she,
to argue
and clarify her thoughts
no, mine

will that not cause agitation
all the time inside
oneself
i could only say
be a river
to remain agitated
or become a placid lake
still, quiet, with no agitation
i am not sure
what should i be doing
i love river
and like lake