Author: anilg

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

without face, without form,
vapours of vanity
have all gone
dont serach
dont yearn
the silence of yesterday
will not reveal
why my path is lost today

you are sleeping in the valley of visions
clam and quiet
but there are birds chirping all around
dont mind their sounds, they are there to assure you
that they care for you, they are worried
are you going to sleep till late today, pl get up, and wash your face,
may be you will see new light today,
i have hung some flowers outside the window
so that the aroma will come through the breeze that
engulfs you, today, for ever

why do you erase memories so lightly from the slate
i have washed it so often
but every time i think, i had cleaned it
soem lines, curved as these are, some sketches,
some drawings appear
which i have not managed to deal with so far
so, now
what shoudl i do ,
shoudl this slate be broken
and should i bury all the pieces of the slate
under the tree near the grave
of a sufi saint
where we had prayed once, for whom, what i dont know know,
but do prayers have to be for a purpose always?

when the knock on your door was not responded
you did not ask
nor did i care
why are we chasing the mirages
which we know lead us to pain
but then is there a way
by which
we can reach
those who
are destined
to bring us closer to us
through intense pain, always, ever

i lent you my hand
so that you walk on line
but i di dnot say
straight line
you draw the line
the way you want, you walk
and take me along, though i have lent my hand
it is your journey and you will decide where do we go, so long as we have hand in hand