anil gupta's blog

Almost all the footprints
Had been erased
By the storms
The sand dunes didn’t keep the word,
How could they
But then covered
By a comfortable cot
Woven with grass ropes
I could see some prints
Now they will stay
Intact for a while
Till the setting sun
Chooses to smile

dark halo
bright yellow
where is your aisle
where are the paints
why did you mix all the colours
in the shadow of arms
why feel lost
why cry over the lost
moon
if we dont hold
tenderness with care
will we ever
be blessed
by the trust ,
even that
you
hesitate to share

tentacles of a tender
feel, touch, spirit
suddenly grew thorns
the sky was overcast
with the
caring clouds
and then moon was shadowed
at that moment
the tentacles
lost their purpose
could not hold
even a single ray tight

one after another
all the castles of sand i built
were swallowed
by the furious waves
as if the nest of waves that sea shore had wanted to build
wasn’t suitable at all
now that sprouts of surrenders
have emerged
dont trample these again
grow, blossom
move on

Brown tweets
Yellow sweets
Don’t know
Why doubt
The shadow now meets

Blossom o little flower, blossom,
Sunshine is yours
Whole sky is yours
So what if a few clouds
Don’t obey your commands
You must generously
Spread your aroma
In the midst of storms
Untenable norms
Your own
Unedifying forms
Fly
Blossom
Grow

when a tired road started walking
and a walker got tired

when drops did not dry
but the dried surface of water in your cup got wet

storms in the cup
with left over filtered coffee
have caught up
with my dreams
busy proofreading the drafts
but not fast enough
why am i slow or
i wasnt slow enough

ah!!

so much spaces left uncovered
why does gardner mow the lawn
so smooth
why can he leave some grass uncut

his concept of work and mine are very similar
we both leave what we must not
and end up doing what others could

thank you
do thank me everytime
i clean the cups in the corridor
and bring water to wash all the stains left on my glasses

Bruises need not be counted
They are not in currency any more
Who tilts which oar how much
Only a sinking boat knows
Who else
You have lost
The ability
To be surprised by the
Goodness
Of the sea in storm
Be quiet
Pay homage
To a ship
Anchoring for the moment
In betrayed waters
Torn shores
Eroded lighthouse base

when whispers reached
your ears
you turned back to see
if it was pliable reed
singing the story
that was buried under its roots
or was it a

raindrop
that forgot to keep
company with others of its kind in the clouds

a lone lilly
in my garden
is a testimony
to the tears
that irrigated
all the cherries
that are blooming now
far away
around a lake
where i had walked
when all the trees were in bloom
but now a lone lilly
is quietly
helping me
sustain my hope
that other seedlings
will not grudge its bloom