when you spoke

when you spokeand i listened,
there were long moments of silence,
when we heard each others' breaths
whisper of breaths have long ceased to say
what we both wanted to hear
let us take a deep breath,
slow down,
stop
and ask ourselves
why do we need to talk at all
---- cant we just be there, like that only

catching balloons of happy memories

why was not erasing option  designed
in the memory bank
was it a lapse on His part of
its is just that he gave us a huge account
unlimited in its scope and scale
reinterpreting every memory in the light of new memories
some carry grudges
some hurts
some balloons of happiness
which escape into the sky
every now and then
to land into some strangers garden
did you not hold any such balloon lately
may be you did not walk int the garden
go out, look at the sky
behave a like kid
always willing to run a bit
if only to capture some fallen balloons

———————————————–
dont make pains  as a pArt of life
THESE are are like thorns
which make rose protect it from some pests
may be you are blessed with pains
to protect from some poachers

with indifference writ all over so eloquently


when leaves fell down

some body announced

river teista had stopped flowing

how will these leaves be drained into the river now

and fertilize the fields 

in which those flowers bloom

of which the garland i had planned to offer

to you Ma kaali

on this shivratri

may be now you have to live with 

stale flowers

that bloomed days ago

or the ones grow on raod side 

like the drona pushp

which reduce pain of many

after years of toil

with indifference writ all over so eloquently

why does one need to know

why does one need to know
how do we draw the water from a well
which is deep and often gets dried
but some times, overflows
when rains have not drained away
is it that water is precious
only when it is difficult to drain

respecting silence

why does  a person choose to be silent,
should not i then respect that silence,
if every such quiet valley is forced to be filled with sound of rivers or winds,
where will those birds  go
which need to hear only the flutter of wings or
where will those souls go,
which hear or
wish to hear just the flutter of eyelids

--------------------------------

mountains will not melt

mountains will not melt
but then galciers never had compassion,
nor did sun show any passion,
it is the fire flies of creativity
which can not live without innovation
that keep on flying
getting too close to sun,
getting burnt but without bequeathing any lesson
to next generation,
sowing a storm of fireflies, unstoppable and uncaringly

when the dry leaves fly away

when the dry leaves fly way
and i just stare at them
slowly getting scattered with the wind,
some particles will get stuck in your hairs
some will pierce the thin partition
that separates the courtyard
from my inner room
having a loud speaker
on which music of yester years plays loudly



	

did i hurt you ever

did i hurt you ever

even when you had sliced the time your own way

 i followed  all your commands till you decided

that i needed to swallow all the pride i had

but then i had nothing left,

what was i good for then