anil gupta's blog

Shower of seeds
have sprouted already,
May spawn a thick deep forest
Embracing a river that flows through it
But who knows
A meteorite fall
Creates a crater in the way of the river
Inspiring it to be a lake
But till when?
Will it not overflow?
And then
River will carry all the leaves
Twigs and the pulverised stones
Don’t ask
Why I still can not leave the forest
Imbued as it is
With aroma of breaths that life running through it
Takes all the time

why did you stretch the strings so much
i know your yearning for deep music
you would have wished me to dance
like autumn leaves
but the colours of these leaves
are woven in the rainbow
in your eyes
dont close them
let me just look
for the fishes of fear swimming
in the lake of your eyes
i am waiting to catch them
and offer them to birds which will not let
spawn of those fishes ever
be seeded again in your lake
just be there,
just be there, the rainbow has assured
me that you will be there

why did you say, it was alright
it was not
your sleeping late
and my keeping awake
hoping that the stars will synchronise the clocks
was not a hope
worth preserving
but then u asked me, to sleep
and i still kept awake
the debts are so heavy
deeds so few
how do i settle claims of my own memories
on the dark morning dew

i know u will come round
to understand the pitfall on the road
we are walking,
is it easy not to be misled
mistaking a lamp post for a lighthouse
fragility
is not on account of frugality
in sharing
the corners of one’s inner corridors
it lies in not being able to build
a stronger bridge to let you
pass over
for a longer journey, safer journey,

but then
no body has made breakthroughs
by reading maps of mind
or losing the keys
without having to find

you may walk, but dont sneer
climb all the ropes
hanging from the roof not so near
i will still be found wanting
and inadequate, for your hopes

will you engulf the edgy shadows
may be when you embrace me,
with thorns and worts around
the aroma of freshly grazed grass
will evaporate all memories in the meadows

the moments which have no past or future either
are the real stopovers for a wanderer
else the pain of the purpose not met
can erode the banks of the river
flowing with love, unhinged from the glacier

dont lose your wings
keep flying
but not
like the insects
who love light
only to be trapped,
be free
be strong
forgive if the light is too strong
hurts your wings,
but then it can only help
by not extinguishing
what you dont like to hear
may be we invent a prism
of love and affection
to scatter the light
that showers peace
and takes away none of the wings

When the breeze is still
And the silence so seductive
Will I hurt a hazy smile
Benevolent strings
That reveal the music
in just a while

Would I ever stir the placid lake
Would I tear away
The lotus roots
Why will I take
what I can not give
You feel that I Sway
Your moods in a way
That you suffer
Even if for a moment or two
Leaving me tormented
For crimes I did not commit
For snips I didnot do

Don’t pursue a vain hope
Can one ever reciprocate
All the warmth one absorbs
To sprout
To grow
To sustain the strained spirit

A tree Can merely bow down
Bare it’s bark
But can’t thank a bird enough
For all the life it brings to it
It can shelter it
Shadow it
Sustain it’s Silence
But how can it weave
A warm nest for it

It can bear with all the
Nails you dug into it
To hang your lovely whispers
But can it dig it’s own roots
Which crippled as they are
Can not deny osmosis

Pain is invain
Pursuit of A purpose
That has eluded me so long
Will I just be, a spec of dust
That settles when storms slow down
Or fill all the cracks in your
Heart so that you can breathe again

How do I return
A river for all the silt it brought to my door
A breeze that unsettled your hairs
And gave you that intriguing look
A look
I m trying to gather strength
To face,
All of it
All the time
Always
But can I

lost moments
curves of a curtain
wrinkles on the pillow
why would
they show
the whispers of the wailing willow
the meadows quiet
and the silent, sullen and slow
rain drops dont crow
about all the stains

they wash,
by dissolving my ego

when will i wither
when will u need manure
tell the gardner
i am not sure

voids in the vision
spaces for vapours to fill
dont measure my tears
dont look for their marks
when they empty my heart
and may be fill yours
thats when perhaps
the time is still