When you fell a few times
You got up and walked afresh
Not bothering too much about the
Precariousness of the balance
With which
The time was hinged on the pivot
You will still walk,
Run and go alone one day
Under the sun
Beyond the clouds
Hand in hand, we will walk
And then forgive the moments
When I wasn’t fully with you
But is not that a small
Price to pay for all the hopes
I bring and all the faith I still have
That one day
The seeds we sowed will blossom
silent, sad, surrealitic sights
I have not known how long we have
Seen the shadows of
Silent, sad, and surrealistic sights
Of time and tide
Wait for the waves to settle
the debts of sand on the shore
For having absorbed all the pain
All these years
Without complaining,
When will there be a monument built
In honour of all the moments
That are precious because of their uncertainty
And tentativeness
And indecisiveness and
The desire to see beyond the screens and
The key boards
some day, some how, some where, no matter you say
20 march 2010
When the curtains can’t hold the truth
From peering through the windows
What do you really do, close the window,
draw the curtain
or just tear these apart
let the rays of naked sun come through
because moon is too shy to admit
the transgressions of life are not
like a progress of an eclipse
which will pass eventually
and then rays will have a right of way
some day, some how, some where,
no matter you say
detours of desires
detours of desires
are not the pathways
on which one ever finds
peace that beguiles
and lulls one to assume
that the end is near,
the fire is now determined
to consume all the leftover memories
that were the seeds
of my poems
delete them,
lest they envelop the air
which we breathe
and so may emerge
a being that is absorbed
completely by the passion
pf perseverance in vain
2006
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
let me tell you, if you will care to hear
pain in the body, pain in the heart
when did we sell any pain in the mart
yet when we go to the far off market
we see vectors of all the choices,
we dont know if that is the way
one got the thought of peace in a packet
let me tell you, if you will care to hear
the vibrations in the cup of tea,
with a spoon left in it to stir, or just to lose heat
i dont know, but i do care, if the spoons disappear
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
He can not be told, He can be wrong
respect boundaries
dont try to force open the doors closed
wait outside the temple and hope to be given some alms
but dont shout that god has been unkind to you,
He does not like to be told
that He can be wrong
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
--------------------------------