anil gupta's blog

weathered by the time
memories may sprout
let us give them a happy burial
let us celebrate
who knows when do we
find a new rainbow
hanging on widow sill

every time, withering rocks promise
storms dont care
winds whisper
punctured armour
patient precipice,
hold the sliding glaciers
the exposed mountain
pains the roots of every shrub exposed
why let pain prosper

Well of wellness is filled up
With your blessings
Said the roots of a vine
Climbing on a tree
Tendril holding the tender branches
Leaves curled coyly
As if they had just been caressed by the breeze
Now we should decide
If the rain will be let
Down to drain the suffocated tears
Or wash the stains of subtle insistence
Of a thunderstorm
To take its toll
Dont do a poll
To find out
How popular Is the detached devotion
Of a pilgrim
Who hasnot slept for years
In the arms of an assured evening
Let him lie under a tree
About to give way
To the desires of a colony
Of white ants
Whose caravan has reached the shore of an
Island
Where pilgrim has planned to rest
May be ants are here to test
The resolve of each other
To try, without a sigh
Without
A
Sigh

i am not good at toasting bread
it often turns black, when i am lost in my thoughts
or becomes too brown
i try to tell her that i will improve
but i am a project in progress
seldom do i improve in ceratin matters
and toasting is one of them
dont we toast relationshop too warm,
too brown sometimes
insisting on crispiness always
we contrive fire,
heat
and also crest
but then slowy baking is not reassuring enough to some

will you ever empty the jar of tears
i had filled
absentmindedly
so that cactii we had planted in your garden dont dry
but now after a long drought
when cactus are no more
why keep the jar still
tightly closed
open it
let its content flow
no matter what they show
dont cry
dont shout
dont insist
just let the caresses of careless wind
sweep its wings through your hairs
and then flying locks
will open up
leaving the sky red
and earth blue

will the wooden bracket suffice
to keep the sculpture i crafted for you
will you rather hang it on wall
with just one nail
when you could keep it in the air for ever
why fix more,
save the nails
save the calls,
dont bother who sees it
it being there matters
so what
if the lone bird just chatters

The lone walker
In the forest
With not many treks intact
Has lost his way
Not that it would take long to
Find the mo0rings

But for the present,
he is lost
In a maze of meaninglessness
Dont show him the way
For he may love to be lost

It’s not easy
Ever
To lose track of beaten paths
Even these paths were made by you
Let me take a deep breath
Let here be inner silence
So that all the din outside
Dims the flares
The heat
The fire
The cold aftermath

Don’t ever try to possess a shooting star
It will burn into ash
Or fall like a meteorite
Cold rocks do not give warmth
At least not for long
They just wither away
Like a speck of dust settled
After a storm

Then there was a silence
The deep silence
As if everything needed to be said
Had been said
But you still wanted me to say
Something
I just couldn’t
Silence has engulfed all the corridors
Of intimacy
Truth
And The rainbow
Of friendship

I will not claim
Any territory
I will be long gone
When you will still be chatting
About the communicative action
The meanings that
Are aborted
When we try
To get too close
Let us carve out the distances
Which will let binoculars to work
Too close
All invisible
Too far
It’s all hazy
Optimal, distance is all that it takes
The meanings to brew
In the ale of an alimony
Of a stew of strained wires
How else will you hear
The music
Strained strings
Are all I have
Why break them
Why stake
All the love on the altar
Of an insistence
Vain attempt
In persistence
Of a smoky path
No I can not admit
Aroma of expanded arms
Of yesteryears
Is the flourish of the future