when life was a comma,
you put a full stop,
to the smiles that could have fertlised
garden all around
the aroma of incense i burnt
to welcome you
has extingusihed
but i will roll
more sticks and light them again
will you come
curiosity, concern, compassion and collaboration
when life was a comma,
you put a full stop,
to the smiles that could have fertlised
garden all around
the aroma of incense i burnt
to welcome you
has extingusihed
but i will roll
more sticks and light them again
will you come
why should you shout when
i am deaf any way,
i wil not hear even if you blow bombs
or just politely knock at my door
i know
what i think you want to say
since i know
why do i mke effort to hear you
when the fires engulf all the trees on road
and water in the steams flowing
alongside dries up
how will i insulate
you from the splashes of blood
when there is violence all around
ho will i was your stains
you may try to catch the streams
but then will you be able to hold them
i only hope
when you can turn the tides
and change the direction in which streams can flow
you will
keep the most thirsty in your heart
the ones whose wounds need to be washed first
will be allowed to take a sip
first
may your desire to be at hand
for those who are innocent and and are still hurt
tie a band
around the wrists of all those
whose fingers may tremble
when you love them
ceaselessly
because they may have hurt you
regardless
how can there be peace
when so many remain
outside the fold
of all the favours we show
all the considerations in a row
will we stop and pause
will we ask and then look for cause
of this violence all around
the loud signals of hurt unbound
will you catch the stream,
will you stop the breeze
will you block the sun
will you shake the trees
why will you ask me this
why will you explore all that
which does not have all the colours
which does not spread shadow under the sun
smile, and chat, who knows
when you will need us
when will you need to abandon
the legacy of prejudices
the game of snubs
no life is wasted here,
no flowers will decay
no sound will be muted here
every body will get his say
will you stop this mayhem
will you listen for a while
will you walk along a few steps
will allow bad memories only to pile
will you laugh the same way again, o little boy
will you listen to the provocative advice
to turn your face away
when we are not so loud
and thus may not hear the feeble voices
or will you rebel and assert
the right you have to partake
in the bubbles of joy that emerge in the drying pond
in the back of our house
will you sow the seeds of fruits
eaten by you on the road side
who knows, travellers who are hungry
years after we are gone
may eat them
remeber blessings count for more
always
even now and so in future
i must start talking to you every day
my dear little one
you might complain, some day, afterall
how could a day turn into night
without metmophosis of our fondness
into some flowers
whose fragrance reached the shores of the island
on which you had been allowed to play
and walk
but i will not build a bridge across,
lest your garden loses its sanctity
swim this side some day
when you wish to partake
the manure which made these flowers bloom
whose fragrance you like so much
i hope
A river has no choice
If she has to flow,
She must accept two banks
How else can she flow,
Even the time needs the banks of past and the future
To flow in present
But there is one difference
You will not
Ask me again and again
If I need to flow still
I am the glow
Of a firefly, now on and now off
But then when it is dawn
I am not there,
Will you take care
Not to let silt settle too much
Like meaningless memories,
Drain them away,
Flow and go
To the shore yet unexplored,
Without a history to show
When you grow up
You will ask some time,
Why did I take so long
To come and dine
With you and watch your tantrums
And some unanswered jabs
At me, for not remembering
So many of your stories
At the moment you demanded
But no, I will not do that,
I will not come
My little boy
Lest the garden planted by your elders
Gets spoiled
I am standing here, on the other
Bank of time
Cross over whenever you want to partake
Some joys of nothingness, some
Fun out of the cup of irreverence