Author: anilg

is not it true that
we are often too sure
of what we think, do, know and feel
but then have not we often faltered in doing so,
why are then we so sure

dont through so many stones in this lake,
it has a tenuous contract
with its banks
who knows who gives way

may be smiles have littered your path

all the way
from where you started
but you know
it is not easy
how to sweep the floor of shadows
of smiles that you borrowed
from the womb of volatile volcano
of wishes unfulfilled

may you get your share of smiles
always.
else
volcano will erupt and its ash will scatter
over your garden

from which will sprout

so many memories
soem full of smiles
and some
let me leave that

why did you tear that page
just because you did not like
what i wrote on it
you tore it
will you tear all pages
from your life
on which i had written with my breaths
the lines which you can not recite even now
you could never recall them

dont play that music any more, it cuts through
all the curtains i hung
all the walls i erected around my fortress
dont let night creep into this fire room,
always lit so intensely
lest no shadow shows up on these walls
dont sing so intensely, o river, flow away
just flow away
why tell me the toll of rocks you broke on the way
the culverts of love you swallowed

banks of patience you overcame with your persistence
dont tell me, river flow away, flow away
just flow away

dont chase me, o shadows
you know
that whenever
you are behind me, i have to have light in fornt of me
but now, come in front of me,
so that i can leave
lights behind me

will you grow without knowing
what it means to be together
with those who
bless without any price
of the smiles they shower
why have you been trapped in the nest
that is perched on such a far branch

will you slowly sit and listen
the song of silence
which i have been singing for years
but some how has not been heard enough
i dont even know if i sang it loud enough

did you hear those beautiful verses
sung by the birds outside my window
when i got late in offering bread to them
they remind me that i have to meet them on sunday,
more often than other days,
they sense my presence in kitchen
and call me out
with so much insistence
why do they miss me
it could not be greed,
it could not be generosity either
is it that i pamper them
ensure that each one gets served the way they wish,
some on pathways, some only in front of them
some in small pieces and some near
the ground
where i stand

dont whitewash this wall again
the cracks on the wall have heard it all

who knows some times
seeds of those lost thoughts may sprout
there
and then grow along the cracks
i will rather see those creeping thoughts
than a white wall, reminding me of those cracks