Uncooperative Clouds

A parrot saw me on the way
Intrigued by my sadness
He asked me why?

When smiles cover your face always
How come feelings seem so wry?
How would I tell him
That I failed again
No way can clouds be persuaded
To cooperate with wind
They will rather be scattered
Then flow to the parched lands

Swallow me, said the fish

A little fish and the question of a big fish

Swallow me
Said the little fish
Knowing there wasn’t much choice
She was willing to self sacrifice
But even in the deep ocean
Rays of justice do some times penetrate
The big fish wasn’t willing to swallow her
Surrendered prey didnot taste well, may be
The joy of vanquishing the creatures in front
Wasn’t going to be lost
Big fish asked the little one
Will you answer my question! If you do
You get swallowed
Else. You will stay as it is
Some other day
Some other fish will devour you

Little one was was curious.
Will the coral reefs make a better house under the sea
Or above it
The big fish knew
Lot of people living on the coast
Were collecting corals to make their houses

She had no trouble in answering the question
Of course under the sea
By that time
A poacher had set eyes
On her
He caught the little one
For keeping her in an aquarium
In his new house
Made by corals
The big fish smiled and swam away

The little one didnot know
Did she survive
To be trapped in a house
Of corals
What if she had answered otherwise
May be she would have been devoured by the big fish
That would been under the sea
Now she wasn’t sure

Big fish comes above the water some times
Hoping for a tsunami
So that the jar gets broken
And the little one can come back to
sea

————–

creeper sapping a tree

who is under delusion, difficult to say
but surely
a tree which can not respect the
creeper
for having sapped its juice
must be under delusion
or will the creeper be crazy
to have thought
it obliged the tree
for
having sapped it dry
but
why

strange that creeper is not satisfied
till the tree dries off
but the tree
is resilient and will survive
after all
its hosting the creeper
is not without purpose

spilling over

peace
tranquility is with me
sad songs signify the essence of my life
i don’t need to whitewash it
i am sorry that i was carried away for a moment
let us be exact
just as a lake is never interested in spilling over
unless there is too much rain
then all stains are washed
we have not had enough rains so far
let it rain more
till then let us do our usual chore

if lava should flow?

cold breeze
or a pensive moment
nothing worked with her
volcano was consuming her
because i could not
swallow the molten lava
dont know
if lava should flow
or she should go

but then the answer is not
what one expects
actually one does not need an answer
it is in the
question
that the hope lies

creamy white

whether one gets lost
or reverberates in the simmering lake
on the edge of a mountain
which has suddenly realised
that it has a volcano in its womb
does it matter
it doesnt
except when
search
leads
to substance
that can not be washed away
it stays stuck
on the paper
on which you start to paint a picture
and then colours evaporate
and canvas acquires cosmic colour
( creamy white).

ek khwahish

khwahish ab kya karun, kuchh bhi theek lagta nahin
tumhari khamoshi,
kuchh soch samajh kar ugayi jhadi ki tarah
ab parakartik nahin lagti
shayad, tum kuchh ghonsley bunaney mein lagi ho
jinmein rehney waley panchi
tumhari itni sundar bunayi muhtaj nahin hai
unhey
wo to mulayam hathon se banayey ghaas ke thikaney pasand
kartey hain,
sach
aur safai
se apni baat kehney waley
thinkaney
bana sakti ho?