response to tagore

what a yearning, what a way
what a bridge
what a bond
no body will understand
it will end, moment you do
so let it remain like an unasked question
in the milky way, hazy, far, very far, but still with in a trail
path is known,
destination is not
time is not

—————–tagore on spring

One Day in Spring…

One day in spring, a woman came  In my lonely woods,
In the lovely form of the Beloved.
Came, to give to my songs, melodies,  To give to my dreams,
sweetness.  Suddenly a wild wave  Broke over my heart's
shores  And drowned all language.
To my lips no name came,
She stood beneath the tree, turned,
Glanced at my face, made sad with pain,
And with quick steps, came and sat by me.
Taking my hands in hers, she said:
'You do not know me, nor I you--
I wonder how this could be?'  I said:
'We two shall build, a bridge for ever  Between two beings,
each to the other unknown,  This eager wonder is at the
heart of things.'    The cry that is in my heart is
also the cry of her heart;  The thread with which she
binds me binds her too.  Her have I sought everywhere,
Her have I worshipped within me,  Hidden in that worship
she has sought me too.  Crossing the wide oceans,
she came to steal my heart.  She forgot to return,

having lost her own.
Her own charms play traitor to her,
She spreads her net, knowing not
Whether she will catch or be caught.
~Rabindranath Tagore

summer has swallowed the spring this year

summer has swallowed the spring this year

every body shouted about the ice that melted much earlier

the fishes that went away from my shore

poems that remained uncomposed

paintings that are incomplete

hooks that have given way

all the photos of the past have fallen down

will you also stay still

or speak up

why have flowers in the desert

remained quiet

when bees have desrted them for moistened gardens

far away

sleepless nights, why

why do i have so many sleepless nights

i love to get lost in the dreamland

some say it is my incapacity to delegate

some say, it is all in my fate

some sense a desire to court fame

some suspect a hidden urge to remain same

a perfectionist

who may be accused of all ills,

all that is wrong

in the lives of many

yet, i love to sleep

may be i should get lost

a plane should  take off never to descend

from the high clouds who

must take me in their arms

as if they were misisng me as much

as i missed them

did i

what is guilt, asked the queen of memory land

what is guilt, asked the queen of memory land

when u rememeber the things children asked

and you forgot to bring

or letters that you should  have written

and you did not

or you loved the leaves

that fell of their own accord

of the creepers on the broken walls

or you stared at the dark big eyes

which meant restraint in the valley

of a voluble stream

i am at peace


i am finding every memory

in my almirah like

neatly pressed clothes

that you always arranged

despite my attempt to disorganise them

time and again

the sprouts of questions

the sprouts of questions
have taken over
all the minds, hands and the paths
all over, they have found willingness
of the hosts to let them be
why then have we become so sensitive
we do not even let our questions
on the soul
that survives
all the cyclones, eruptions of volcano
and also smiles

when i irrigated the roots of a tree

when i irrigated the roots of a tree
that was about to dry
a bird asked, why was i so concerned
how do i answer a question
of which the answer is known to her
i kept quiet
she repeated the question,
every time there is rain,
bird asks the same question
and i just keep quiet

when the steps are not straight

when the steps are not straight

and the path is

you just hope that the

time will heal

the pain of gaps

in what we see

and experience every day

and what we hope, often do not see

but pray

for no other reason

then to mask our frustration

when waves can not carry the load, u just let it be

when waves can not carry the load, u just let it be

said a leaf floating ion the sea, bit sullen and sad

but not still yet

movement along the way

wind blew

was not to her liking

she alwasy resisted the trend

unreavelled the mystery of meanings

hidden in silences

like the foams settling on the sea shore