anil gupta's blog

Sky is deep. And vast
Don’t cry
Wait
The celebration
Of Milky Way
Is about to begin
Be happy
The sky is deep
The drops of unwanted rain
Are not falling any more
Dint open your umbrella
Let me hold it for you

Before the sparkles
Were extinguished
The dark night
Declared
Truce
The meteorites will not fall any more
There will be no light
But search for omen
Will lead to invention
Of new rituals
I will not care
Bend a little
Smile a little
May your nights
Be lighted
When you work late

I didn’t know
The courtesies were dispensed with
But it is good
The journey
Will now be more meaningful
The posts on the way
Where horses need to take rest
And horseshoes need to be mended
Will be attended to by the caretakers
One doesn’t need to have insurance
Of wishes
Or prayers
The life is like a bead
With pearls of pensive moments
Woven into a quilt
Of threads torn out of old clothes
I m happy
You be happy too

purple is pure
old fort is ok
dont stand in front of it

it hides the look of the darkness
that i have begun to like
you reflect too much light

why not absorb a bit
wear dark
blue
or black
but then dont put a red scarf over it
lest it brings sparkle
and make the boundary burn in fire
whose lights attract the fireflies

touch was the truth
mountains did not worry
about slopes
on which you slid
why will they
they expected you to rise and climb
alone if you will
together with winds, if you prefer
but that is not the point

touch is not always the truth
when it is honest
when it is after a day long work
tiresome tears are not allowed to roll out
in honor of the guest
at the table
who is offered cold milk
and some biscuits
and a sandwich
but then it does not matter
does it
all the labour was wasted away
on the altars
you offered flowers
full of your prayers
what do i do
your prayers are getting answered
curses have become creative
verses
listen to them and sleep
you need rest now
i too

cacti are happy
thorns have got engaged with the red scarf
dont worry
dont throw it away
few blades of grass
have outgrown the painting on my wall
they are now thirsty
they need moisture
whose tears will irrigate them
do i know

you did not respect boundaries
it seemed i heard voiced i had heard earlier
whose voice was it
whose echo was i hearing
i have no regret
i can take it
but why do you uncover
all the saplings which had settled
in your garden
is it a drought that you are facing

flowers will bloom again
dont blame me
will it help?
has it helped

have patience

the tale was told
there was no power play
there was no asymmetry
if any thing,
the flowers blossomed when they did
unasked
unhindered
but then it stopped raining
the drought followed
the distractions brought a deluge
the sluice gate were not opened in time
the dam burst was inevitable
no lake, no river
no question
only answers

you spewed venom
cursed
and spread the fire all around
because you hadn’t realised
the truth wasn’t easy
but it was there, it is always there
no matter how much angry you are
it survives all onslaught of dark paint
you put on my windows
but the light will find its way
some day

oscillating between curiosity
and caution
every time, a small window was opened
you closed it without thinking twice
basic goodness of our lives
after all
must manifest in humility
with which we deal with such openings
but then it was not to be
now
what else can be done
except to close the window
may be cassia in bloom
will turn the tide
change the direction of storm
let wisdom prevail
may be not