slower slide of the stones
tilted landscape
broken mirror
torn territories
dont console
dont embrace
i have filled my jar
with a lot of tears
now i will irrigate my pots with it
so that all the sprouted seedlings die quietly
no expectation, no frustration
silence, sudden strife
quiet retreat
this is life
Why peel the onions
Why peel the onions
Why insist that
Under each layer
Truth must be buried
Why insist
That you should discover only truth
This insistence is not
A fair expectation,
Settle for less
Even if you think you deserve more,
The balance is tilted
The urgent has become important
Not the other way around
Nothing will change it
You can not command
That one sticks to the stated ends
Muddle through
If you can
Deer song
There were many deers in the jungle
Some played together
And some were detested by others
One day one of them asked
The other,
If You don’t mind, please tell me
What will you do when wind doesn’t blow your way
She replied
I will raise the dust by kicking around
Till you run away
The deer lowered his face
And walked away
Second deer asked her
Hesitatingly,
What will she do, if the it doesn’t rain enough
Next season
The deer was not in a mood to relent
She said
If you stand near the pool
Of water,
I will dance in it and splash
All the mud till it filled your eyes
Deer felt desolate
And went back
The third deer was a bit different
He didnt want to ask any question
He just came near the she deer and stood silently
She asked him, what do you want to ask, ask
He still kept quiet
She said
You know what you are thinking
He asked, if she knew then why didnot she answer herself
She jumped around a bit
And then said
You want me to sing for you
But you don’t know that
My songs are not for you
If you ask again
I will sing indeed
But not the song you want to hear
I will sing the song you
Don’t want to hear
And then if you cry
I will not care and she walked away
The he deer was still quiet
And has since remained quiet
tired stains
stains on my collar are there for long
dont notice them now
i am tired of washing them all over
again
and again
who knows clean shirt
will make us hesitant to even dig a small nursery
to sow the seeds of flowers
that will sprout despite all the cold
and blossom
when i am tired
and fatigued
as today
lest prayers are answered
lest my prayers are answered
i kept quiet
and looked down
and walked further
indecisive
and uncertain
hoping that a whiff of air
will take away this confusion
may be the untimely rain will wash
my spectacles and i can then see clearly
Not having to wait is also a liberation
I used to wait
Till the traveller
Reached his destination
Not that it meant anything
But now
We need a ritual less
More we erode the need for rituals
We can deal
With
Real acts
Reaching is less important
The dialogue within
On the way
Stillness
Standing apart
Is all that matters
It does
At least
It seems so
Promises will be kept
No, the journey can not be abandoned
I had given a word
To craft a stone into
A sparkling diamond
I realise the tools now stand blunted
The strikes are not strong
But the promises have to be kept
Let us restore the faith
Of a bruised bridge
By making a confession
Of all the cracks
We did not want
To acknowledge in the mirror
Of soul
Succumb to the spate
Floods last night
Swallowed a boat
Which had only a crack
But now
With all the strikes of a hammer
Had to swallow its pride
Succumb to the spate
What had been left to prove
The crest of caring
Foam
On the surface
Now seemed like a sandpaper
To the navigator
How will the boat be resurrected
How will shore
Retain its sanctity
Betrayal by the banks
Banalities of life
May be the volcano
Was waiting To swallow
Pride of a mountain
And did it care,
If in the ash sputtered in the sky
There were claims
Of a lake
Showing
How much did it care
Like the feet of clay
Of a saint
Everything was demolished
All the lamps offered in the temple
Of the revered lake
Had been thrown away
Thrashed
In a minute
The mountain was defeated