Author: anilg

 

765

 

 

I have painted the black horizon

With a tinge of red sky

I saw today

Over the clouds

Tired and turbulent

As if u were reminded of  a deep sigh

That summed the situation

As if  I had located the wrong star

To navigate my ship

In a deep far sea,

away from the islands

That comfort the sailer

When storms arrive

But I am not fallible,

I am incorrigible

I have loved

With purest of might

That propels the whole

Atmosphere

Towards the edge

Where deep valleys

Shine

With all the lights

That will glow

In the backdrop of sullen nights

Do not stop me now, let me say

Why did I not pause

 

 

764

You had offered to drink

The cup of tea I made

Without a spoon this time

In it, to let vapours escape

But then I did not make it

You did not ask,

The cup has now reminded me

Of the tea you made,

Turning your back, in blues and with jade

I still smell

The sparkles of smiles

That I saw on your face

When you had embedded stones I brought

In new earrings, with designs full of grace

How do I erase,

How do I paste

New postures

In empty coasters 

Just listen, pause for a while

Let me collect all the things

Before u put them on fire

For you, new dawn will herald

New memories of meanderings

I will stay here, with abandoned banks

Of a dried river, broken necklaces

 

 

 

 

Why did you heal,

Even a single wound

I had collected so many

Only to remain in pain,

Lest some body suspects

Smiles on my face to be hollow

I had covered with them

Like a lid of love  on cans of sorrow

Do not blame me for swinging

Like a pendulum of endless hope

And a desperation to die

After all, do not the sand dunes bear

The silence of cold nights

And summer of promises that wear

With time, like the vain tides of time

I will not complain, if you remain there, just quiet

 

 

 

 The river had dried

I asked the mason to collect the stones

And start the construction still,

He was not convinced, did not stir at all

His wisdom had never been before, defied

I still hope that river will flow again

And I will need to cross over once in a while

But was there  some thing, I don’t know

i did not have to say

what you meant

when u just waved hand

and went away

i remember the whiff of fresh air

that passed me by

and evaporated the fatigue in my eye

and ruffled my white hair

now, that you are gone, i am waiting still

will the nectare of time

be there to fill

my cup is broken

my thirst is forgotten

but i long still

for some  one to take care

when all the chaos  i create

and donot have a moment to spare

my life, my friends

and partners in crimes

of neglecting my duties many many times

why will you

forgive

why will you let go

i had breached the dam

why would not now

the free river flow

when light refuses to reflect

and the mirror of soul cracks

what do i do,

sit aside and observe

why the sounds did not any more echo

why on my breaths, amar bels grow

harvester of waves

extractor of  caves

from within the no man’s land

pulverizing  memories

of roads abandoned

so that you can go on

even when no one mentions

why we do not  have time to build pavements

when the road of life gets too crowded

 

 

 

sanctuary of sighs, are u

why would one become a deity

or an apostle

when indulgence is so easy

and the aftermath bothers

only those who have carved

obelisks of  every thought

that has failed to permeate their conscience

when wait turns into devotion,
the patience into perseverence
the tears dry leaving no trace
the memories take over every station
life then assumes a purpose
the flowers become fragrance
and the eyes a gateway to passion
for meanings, that  are obscure today
but will change some thing on the way
when i will not be there any more
footprints will find difficult to endure
you will have to carry the missions forward
so what, if i wouldnot be able to call it absurd

when patches in quilt give way, what do you do

do you collect new patches, or

weave old one afresh

or just find a pretext for leaving them untended

eitherway, you are exposed

and if there is nothing to hide, does it matter