treason of tremors

The traces of tremors still reverberate
But the tectonic plates are not giving way
Not completely
Not enough
Treason of tremors
Has weakened the faith of feeble
Fumes emanating from
The burning fires
Inside your barn,
Will the drought this year
Force you to migrate,
To the not so green pastures
Or will you wait for
It to rain again?
At long last
May be a drizzle!
Just to soak my soul
In dried wishes
Of withered,

denial of dew drops

Denial of dew drops
May justify the
Draining of the
Of lurking fears
May be some lotus
Flowers will bloom
Not needing
Permission any more
May be

May be the daffodils
On the Way
Will still cheer you up
And take away
All the strain
All the dilemma
Whether to partake the aroma

the late night vigil, is no more needed

the late night vigil
is no more needed
i have begun to sleep
what if it is only
for a small spell
only way unwanted dreams
can be kept at bay
is by keeping vigil and not let
simmering of sighs sway
the thoughts, concerns and crippled
of lone wolf in the jungle
decrying the waking up
of all the hares and squirrels

stresses of seasons

river has claimed
huge territories of melancholy
silently but assertively
it resists responsibility
yet craves for constraints
you now can decide
whether to abandon the boat
or let it swim through
with no license to provide
relief, from stresses of seasons
take leave from as many reasons
dont tie me with twine of expectations
i have abandoned, many islands
to seek freedom from reciprocities

Live breathe serve

when the detours of diehard river didn’t reconcile
The banks had to break the promise
Every time river violated their limits
They rebuilt themselves
River began to respect them
Banks became benign
Flow was smoother
But the pebbles still got ground
Will the silences still hound
Don’t be billigerant
Don’t wait
Don’t imprison the hopes
In the web of expectations
Moment at a time

in the corridor of silence

when the subtle stirrings
from corridor of silence inspire,
why do we feel desolate,
why should empty arms,
not embrace all the sunshine,
all the colour on the horizon,
go out and reach for that elusive smile,
which sustains the hopes,
of a shooting star

no lamp post needed

finding a way is not easy
i have always faltered
but there are ways which
took me to places unknown
moments not experienced
breaths not heard
and i liked it there
it was all in mind
there were no lampost needed

a bowl of promises, vain ones

will u accept sacrifice
o Mother Kaali,
of a defeated soul?

will you let me offer
my drained dreams
or a bowl of promises
brimming over with froth of unkept words
why do you
not accept
just myself
as i am
or as i was or
as i want to be

worm eaten memories

slowly, seemingly silent, the stirrings
in the deep well of soul
are traumatising
but the resolution is well timed
if the silverfish had eaten
all the pages of the old diary
nothing would have remained as witness
of the worm eaten memories
but their grace has left enough signs
of what happens
when i betray the confidence of those i love
and not enough
as if that is all i can confess,
i do