anil gupta's blog

 

Stop for while

You are walking very fast

Just pause

You do not know

How to walk in step

And then when you are left behind

You complain

Of your loneliness

When I will be not any more

Around to pamper the mood

Of the weird winds

Or crazy mountains

Or the streams with passion

In their belly

Not accepting the discipline of the banks

You will then realize

The subtle sounds of silence

That engulfs when a pyre is burnt almost fully

She is the star

Slowly fading in the sky

I am her shadow  in the lake

Placid and tranquil

But then you know

How can the shadow become longer,

deeper and

More serene

When I light a lamp

and float it in the lake

The lamp will not light

No mater how much oil

I put in it, till the wick is lighted

You are the wick of that lamp

Burning, slowing dying

Disappearing in the light

And elongating the shadow

Do you know

That’s the way it is

That’s the way it is

What can I pray for you

Just be there

Lighting the life

Of shadows

Which will remain dark

Long

And inaccessible

Do not ever hope to get closer to

The shadow

Its pain, only pain, distress

Of desolate length

That some times

Goes beyond the banks of the lake

 

But then star is still lighted and

I am trying to keep this light glowing

Feebly,

What a life

Neither able to nurture the light, nor

The shadow

And the lamp floats away, slowly

And slowly, Ah!

appearances are deceptive

when we think

we are posing questions, we may appear

answering them

let us listen for a while

whatever we have been saying,

who knows

we may not have to then speak anything

 

and then bury me, do not burn me

  

When I could tell you the stories

From the bed where I will lie

Not able to describe some of the characters

Who gave me oath of secrecy?

But whose place in the story

Remain etched for ever,

With impressions that they leave

No one ever really measures,

 

I will sing songs that could be sung by anyone

But whose words will mean

Some thing different to every one

You will quiz me, I will smile

And keep weaving the web, the carpet

Without having any worry about

Who walks on it,

whose worries are trapped in it

forever,

let me just disappear

let me just clear

my table of all tasks, all pending letters

to be written

and then bury me, do not burn me

so that by adding a bit of manure

I will let this world be richer

Rather then be more foggy, more smokey

 

 

 

  

When you were young

My sons, I told you stories

Of poppy robot, who could always reach,

Unexpected places and whisper

In your ears, plans for new mischiefs

Who could surprise you by his creativity and

Reach,

I also told you stories of

How brinjals could dance in the marriage

Party of potatoes

And all the other absurd things

That would ordinarily defy meanings

At least sane ones,

But I had never imagined

You will gift us the similarly intriguing

And illogical surprises

The behaviours that defy any sense

But then did not we ask for it, ah!!!

i had sought peace in the silence

without the chirping of birds

or sirens of the streams gone violent

but today when you are wondering

to what extent is the life answering the calls

of the time, space or empty halls

i realize, gong away would not offer

any respite

no matter what we may say

the darker side always has an edge which is bright

\

when morning begins with the simmerings of the night before

some body knows, but most are not sure

whether we should ask, see or just observe

or silently absorb all that they say, has no verve

i am a bit baffled, and ask like a fool

why did you do this, as if a fish will choose its school

you have succumbed to the pressures of time

not knowing whether this will last,  even in the youth’s prime

will you forget to break the toys you dont like

do not

after all, you need to decide

what is ok and what is snide

some times people will laugh at things you think seriously

and at times your antics will go unnoticed

learn to ignore what others say

even if it is i

just smile and walk on,

be what you are, how does it mater,

if this does not match with what the world

expects from you

a7 why did you ask, if we sow smiles only in wild

why did you not see the flowerbeds we made

for sowing multitudes of flowers for you to see and play with

but all these beds are empty

no seeds could be sown

because gardeners did not like our tending them

where else will we grow flowers then

tell us