may the sculpture be serene

the wait did not yield
once again to the order,
you were as usual busy
with one thing after another
late and unable to keep the time
you decided to seek the liberty
to live certain moments again
you asked the god to unwind the clock

now that he has done it
you are complaining
may the sculpture be serene
may you sleep
may in wait
the time keeps patience
may it

Unable to submerge and unwilling to let them be,

Spawning the seeds
In the shallow waters
Did she ask
Whether the weather will
Be benign
Whether The fingerlings will find their way
In these uncertain times
Troubled waters
And lost directions
Will river care
Will the banks hold
Like the sculpture’s scalpel
Shape her contours
Or just swallow
All the passion
That waves bring to bear
On the floating see weeds
Unable to submerge
And unwilling to let them be
It is this struggle
That dictates
The design of a dilemma
I have been living
Over and over again
Without a helping hand
From the winds
And waves
Shores and the shales

Searching for a sanctuary, where tigers love fishes

Movies and moments jostle
What shall I go for
Asks the angel
And of course moments win
And every time
When I decided to surprise me
I switched on the Skype
And connected to a forlorn soul
Searching for a sanctuary
Where tigers love fishes
And convert them into falcons
Where the springs are streaming their music
All the night
Till the dew starts to dance
On the tip of a thorn of a cactus
That has never succeeded in piercing
The balloon of beautiful wishes
So light that it flies away
In to the far blue sky
Away, far away

Where there is no end
There is no way
Just a jungle
Just a tiger
Few falcons
Waiting for someone to die
And be devoured
By the eagles and the other birds
On the roof of
Sun temple

Oh! You will live in te veins of those birds
Flights of fancy
Far away in to the blue sky

On the banks of a dried river

Gracefully I age
On the banks of a dried river
When forgotten promises don’t come to haunt,
Transgressed fences don’t
They merely
The responsibility follows
But never enough
The creeper can not replace the trunk of a tree
The branches can perhaps bear
The load of my dream tree house
But when I descend from there
On the ground
Will I be able to persuade
The worker ants to make a nice strong mound
For me
Cool inside
No matter even if the fire rages

When waves have a license

Threats of a storm can immobilise
The kindest boats
On the full moon night
When waves have a license
To take liberties with a shore
Raising its arms, like branches
Of a newly washed tree
In the season’s first rain
It might just yawn
But then
Fatigue does not prevent
It to seek freedom from
The throngs of a crocodile
But who knows
Which is better
Freedom and fatigue
Or freshness of a game of intrigue

In the whirlpool of silences

In a whirlpool of silences
All the words you spoke
Got sucked into a paste
That plastered the cracks
In my soul
Layered the legs
With a waxy coat
Lest some bugs should bite
On a fool moon night
Letting you complain
About their taste
And my indifference

Of wounded soul

How many times
Did one have to fail
Before redemption
How many times
Should one listen to the woes
Of wounded souls
Flying in the moonlit night sky
A fatigued pry
Can fear of death be so huge
To make meaningful life
A distasteful bargain

Can good acts be forgotten

Long struggle
Of creating a new human being
Seems jettisoned now
Not easy to accept defeat
Yet vanity of my imagination
Must give way
No more are asymmetrical promises kept
In this world
No more are non reciprocal acts
Of kindness left unresponded
Brutality of exchange economy
Has become pervasive
Almost every street
Is named after one or the other form of vengeance here
I don’t live here anymore
I Dont belong here
How did I come here
How did i get trapped in these
Corridors of contrite
Desires to be even
No matter how odd that looks

Silence seduces

Where will you rest
A lawn with a lot of mosquito bites
Or a room with dark black kites
Some fly to frighten you
And some just are there to
Keep the juices of mellow
Mind flowing

What shall be the point
When silence seduces
The eloquent expanse
Of a garden
The meditative meanings
Will not Be obscure
And the pain will find a cure
Even if the source will also endure

An ageing tree

There are many turns
That a road has
Some are blind
And some are very pointed
Some take us to nowhere
Some to the places where shadows
Jostle with the rays of light
Piercing through the
Branches of an ageing tree