anil gupta's blog

why should yearning for comfort yield to guilt
why
why should relaxed nerves feel strained after a while
because they were touched
felt
explored and put at ease
why can not we just be
but is that an alibi
to say
i am not here any more
take me, o wind
somewhere away
far
faster
and beyond the land of feelings

when the placid leaves dont stir, Kaali ma,
will u listen
will you care to undress
my ego
which does not let me see though the
curtains of desires
i have put on all my windows
when will
you tear apart all the
rainbows i have woven in my eyes
so painstakingly
thinking that i belonged there
but i know my place,
now
at least now

when a gardener is not happy
with the seeds he has sown
he can not tend them with care
last night, the smiles we borrowed from those
who could not have said no
because they trusted us,
or because they are vulnerable
or that they are more generous
but they let us walk on a path
that is not paved with serenity,
some integrity

now the gardener is also not happy
nor are the springs which irrigated his garden so long
can fences be mended
can pathways be repaired
can we start walking around the garden rather
then crossing it at will,
violating the sanctity and then leaving
the irresponsible footprints behind

argue
you can argue
again and again
that there is no truth
all that happens
is just a flow of moments
like a garland which was never made
all the beads
lie scattered
but then some of the beads
refuse to be lost
what do i do
collect them
make a string of beads
the moments
how ill i tie
them
no, i must leave them
unstringed
let them flow
away
far away
with no trace
left
of the sounds
touch
smell

the words
words that are
are they just words
but no, they carried the sounds
touch
smell
but the words
which ones, the ones i heard
or the ones you felt i did not hear
was i deaf
or just unable
to bear the burden of their truth
do i know
do i

Some angel would descend

Many times I have not lived
As much I wished
In a glass house
But then every now and then I lost my way
Some angel would descend to show me
Where to go
How to be a strenuous stickler for the hopes
That many nurtured through the oars
I sculpted out of wood
Of an old tree
Under which we had played once
Without any fears and doubts
Which now has turned into a boat
And oars
Now, either come on board, ride the waves
And surrender to the swings of streams
Or just sink
Swallow
And then quietly descend on the bed
Of a deep river
So that fishes could live,
And make the water clean

Territory of treason

We bury the lilies
That have dried
Now
Why not throw them away
But is it easy to throw the aroma so easy
The limitless splendour
Of falling stars
The flicker of fading aura
The murmur of dried leaves flowing
In the backyard
Colliding
Breaking
But still claiming some territory
Of treason
That time has played out
By not letting them be just dust

Why should love lead to tolerance

Whenever you forgive me
You actually give me a new leash
New covers between which
I could write another book
But my story does not change too much
Does it
And you still like to read it
Because you love me
Why should love lead to tolerance
Of indiscretions
Is it because it can only liberate
And not languish
But why should moulting not lead the insect
To be born again
After all
Can we not soak in rain when it does
And dry the eyelids
Wet by tears of remorse
But why should moment of bliss be
Just a regret
No celebrate
The truth deserves to be celebrated
The truth of the moment
Without any memory or
Future ahead
Let us make choices
Of living with the traces
Along the path
Ants will now crawl
To build a new nest