anil gupta's blog

there are no traces of amber
no spark
no firewood unburnt in the fireplace
yet you expect fire to warm you in cold wintery night
let fluffy snow pave the way
of those who seek stars
to light the way
so that when they fall down
they are not hurt
the roads are now covered
and i can not find way
to the cremation ground
of all the waves
that escaped
from the ocean
of tears
yet

failed vanity
exhausted inanity
message lost, fire extinguished
the journey is ephemeral
dont search ambers in the ash
warmth is in the eyes
which are going to close now
leaving a trail of tears
dont let them dry
lest the pathways are created
for shadows to creep inside

a hard knock
on failing the test
over and over again
i lost the fire
and no matter how much firewood
i put in the hearth
fire does not get ignited any more
is it your curse for not respecting
the need to fuel the fire i had ignited that day
may be i deserve it
that will make the meditations less wrinkled
coffee less bitter
and perhaps the shadows of the mango tree
less obtrusive
let me live in the shadows
i am extinguished
and ash of smouldering coals
may be gathered
and offered to a river
which has decided to pulverize
all the rocks in its way
shouldn’t it be that way

saw the butterflies again
did not know that they were trapped
in your eyes
and no weeds could have
claimed the right to host them alone
exclusively
but now they have returned
and i don’t need
”seeds of weeds” any more
i dont think weeds are ever there
to each according to one place under the sun
how can a sprout be ever
out of its place in this world
but butterflies do have their seasons
and reasons
to smile and fly here and there,
i now understand
will they just come
when it pleases them
and go away
when i dont pay attention
thats the way i need to be treated
that is the only way

will you lend a helping hand
she asked
when i can no longer listen
or learn
remember or forget
will you still be upset
because your towel is not in its place
or handkerchief is not in the bag
but that wouldn’t be possible for me track
are we worth the tasks we do
are we an end
or a means to discover ourselves
i dont know
do you?

peace dawned
when i asked myself
am i searching that immense source of light,
the sun or a sun
swirling madly, may be a bit too
passionately,
seeking to churn,
hoping that the nectar will emerge
but also poison
who will get what does not matter
let us swallow the poison
lest it reaches some’s hand by chance
who unknowingly may partake it
to realize too late
that nectar is not labelled
it is in abundance
but still we search
the poison
so rare
so scarce
may be that is why

when breaths take hold
of the tether
of tensions
produced by the extended hopes
who uses whom
does not matter
can indeed any one use the being
or the nothingness as is wont
why should we lose faith
and have anxiety
over the fear
that we are a pawn
in the hands of those
who have a big design
to become
what we may not like
abandon
leave it
go away
dont stay
a minute longer
whenever the place demands
relinquishing
the freedom to be
what makes us real,
rest is a meaningless journey
in vain,
always in pain

rain does not soak
just like that
one has to absorb
through every pore
the vapours must dissolve all the obstacles
in the way,
once the way is cleared
the soaking begins
but then if boundaries dissolve
one does not know
what was soaked by whom
it is all fluid
no medium
no river
no rain
no bridge of breaths
to be crossed to swim
no raincoat of illusions and beliefs
to prevent soaking
nothing

The Hermit has declared a vow of silence
Every time there is a storm
And leaves fall from the tree
Along with some dry branches
There will a campfire
To roast the tubers
Dugout from under the trees
That have not bloomed for years
The birds are waiting
For fire to be ignited
And hermit to get busy
With his meditation
Thy know hat he will forget
To turn the tubers
Some will be cooked more and some less
These will be then left for birds to eat
And he will laugh and talk to himself
Telling himself how consistent he is in forgetting
things
Some more, some less

There was a little doll
Who will play and throw tantrums
Whenever she could
But there were days
When she just minded her games
And didnot bother about any thing
A small frog asked her
O little doll
Why do you become so demanding sometimes
She said, ” you know, when I submit,
You complain
When I argue
You complain
When I cry
You complain
You ate incorrigible”
Frog smiled and said
Look when you play
And keep to yourself
New smiles are born
New ideas turn their sides
But when you cry
ANd wet your pillows
The clouds refuse to rain
Lest he flood dissolves your tears
And turn the lake of smiles
Brackish
So keep smiling
Don’t bother
Leave me to my fate,
Ignore my complaints
Just be yourself,
Grace be your gift
Growth be your goal
Leave the shrunken leaves
On the pavement
Wind has to prove
It gathered some mass
Let the manure of meaningless dreams
Be thrown
In the dried bed
Which hasnot been planted till date
Let us leave the tending to Gardner
You just grow and grow
Frog jumped into the lake
Ripples took over the shadows of trees
And I kept staring
Quietly
Will the boats capsize
And make me sink
In the lake today