anil gupta's blog

did you try to tear
the scarf
apart
which had adorned your
shelf for so long
hoping that prayers
of the givers
persuade you to be pensive
prescient of quietude

shadows of smiles
are not enough
it seems now
why will
it be, after all
the wrinkled sheets
covered grave
wind blows
stones press the
pieces of prayers
dont wait
move on,
withered wishes
are scattered in the garden
they will manure your hopes
and my blessings

stretching the rope
you wove with so much effort
to tie a moment
that was pure,
so what if a bit tense,
wasn’t worth, you assert

but it seems now
it wasnt wasted
it has precipitated a silver
crust of all the foam
churned
by my conscience
while stretching the rope
let me heave a sigh
of relief
i am liberated
from cycles
of reciprocity

Punctured sails
Slow wind
Boat is in disarray
Don’t worry
Pray

The sea was kind
But you threw away the oars
Jumped onto the ships
That seemed faster and gay
Now pray

May be the clouds have a conscience
They will reflect
On soaking all the tears
And yet raining the Storm
Hold on
Don’t feel shy
Pray

Clouded sky
O bird
Don’t cry
The nest you wove may
Not get soaked
The chicks will still fly
O bird
Don’t cry

be quiet

talk with in
who knows the whispers of her song
may get lost in the voice of her steps
if the fallen leaves crackle too much
listen
be quiet

why should i say any thing
wasn’t it agreed
that when the wind will move the curtains
i will let it waver
lest shadows become still
and the word acquire density
such that they settle in the cup of tea
instead of floating
and may not overflow over the brim

i am aware that
a dialogue was needed
but could not take place
i didn’t want to puncture the sails
of the boat in which you wanted to cross the sea