your pain is but a reflection of my diluted devotion

your pain is but a reflection of my diluted devotion

do not ask me the same questions

i have no new answers

you have seen all the layers

which have covered the unfolding streams

why then declare a drought

by withdrawing the drops of dew from the sky

under which i had lived for so long

bahut door janey ka sarokar hai

ek kaali ghata ka intzaar hai,
garm hawaon ka thoda thanda bazaaar hai
tum na bolo kuchh aur bhi, itni darkar hai
sabhi kuchh kaho mat, bahut door janey ka sarokar hai

empty of the echoes

why do we ask ourselves,

the reasons for retiring the resolutions

we make every morning, and some times in the night

and then find our inner corridor

empty of the echoes

of a  yearning for a deeper meaning and

and the sahaj jeevaniya( spontaneous living)

will this lake ever dry

when lotus will bloom in a lake of love
the ripples of reflection will go far and wide
no body will ask which peaks were assailed
nor would one bother, how deeper one had to dive
the storms would come and pass
the dust would rise and settle
the sound of subtle signs
would permeate the noise of stinging nettle
you will then quietly dissolve
somebody will mightily submit
will this lake ever dry
if my tears will keep their resolve

let me not stir the pool any more

let me not stir the pool any more
lest a ripple escapes the brim and evaporates
who knows whose nest will it wet
which bird will then search
fibers and the sticks afresh to weave a nest
who knows who will lay the eggs in the new nest
after all not all birds get to hatch their eggs
will whirlpool be hatched in the nest of ripples

i am the explanation

 i am the explanation
said the sparrow
and went on with her search
for a nest full of comfort
that can not be guaranteed
but prayed for,
that can be designed but not delivered
after all
rim of  an old cart
are rusted
when the cart stays still
make it run
so what if you forget when to stop
where to stop

dec 06

when you could not hold the balance

when you could not hold the balance

and the twist in the gate

took its toll

you fell


get up again,

litle hurt

that i was not around

to take care

of you

but hurt is not your alone, it hurts me no less

the difference is

you can say it and i can not

we can not rely on those who

we took to be our part

and we can not be together all the times

what do we do then

stay close in spirit

and pray

like little toddlers

we laugh about such falls

and reprimand the ground

as we did when we

were kids

and when our children were little ones,

more innocent

less responsible and


your silence is your tool

your silence is your tool

you complain when things happen

but do not warn in time always

when you do, you see results

the roads are diverted

rivers are tamed and

the winds change their direction,

why do you not then complain more,

it is true that not every complaint may lead to exact

and equivalent action

but you too will not wish that

after all, where from would you get the  energy to fight

and declare new boundaries,

new rules and new language