Month: May 2013

There are times
When I don’t hear,
Shouts of whether I am deaf
Don’t bother me,
Because I m deaf a bit
But only when I am lost in my thoughts
Like my father
My listening is selective
On at times and off many times
How else do I maintain my sanity
Do I listen to every small
Detail
As to how the
Wrinkles on a collar of a shirt
We’re pressed right
Or a mark on the sleeve
Was not removed
I can ignore this
But I can’t forget to listen the way
Your earrings have to be buttoned
So that holes remain in place.
Not too elongated
Like a hook
A bit loose

Tired by the incessant questions
About the reason
Why envelop was folded leftward
And not right
Completely took my
Peace away for a while
How to Make the content appear
More relevant
When all that matters is one’s sense of
What is most relevant at a moment
Can trivia be really celebrated
I m going to learn that
Else there is no way
I can walk ten steps more
But should we walk ten steps more
Will it not help
If I run
And reach there first
Wait fr you to arrive
Argue
And then
Stay put for next hour
Exploring
Whether taking left foot forward
Is better than the right foot

AH!
I wish
I didn’t know

The rapid talk failed
Slow serene smiles didnot fill
The vacuum
Created by an obsession with
Detailed sketch
With all the n formation
Except the arrow showing the north
Now how does one navigate
The boat in a moonlit night
The way is clear
But direction is not
Mapmaker is lost in trivial details
Of what to buy at every stop
On the way
But which stop will come
Is not known
Now travelling without compass
Is like cooking without fire,
You can only do as much
Under the sun
Without fire and the pans

I need freedom
From wants of vain desires
From pain of forest fires
Lit by careless walkers
Who had promised not to play
With the destiny of dried leaves
But could not overcome the temptation
Of warming their bodies
On a cold night
By the bonfire of those leaves
Which have consumed
The forest
In which we had planned to build a campus
Of creative pursuits
By the forlorn souls
Vanquished by their ambitions to be
Whatever it meant to see
The morning lights of a faraway sea

The distances that were shrinking
Have suddenly become longer
I can’t bear the sight of a child working day and night
Only to be reminded
That her future is to breed more children
To do the same
This world
Will swallow the million dreams
Of eyes that have not rest
Souls that have not slept
But are not souls sleeping too long
How else so many children
Will remain awake
Without any one losing sleep over
Them

How will a new future
Be built
You can not light an
Incense stick
Of a vain anger
You can not
Offer even the ash
To a a wilting sapling of silence
You must get all the answers
Now and here
How does it matter
If some questions are best left
Unanswered
Only to remind us that
Answers don’t give peace
It is through pious pursuit
Of silence
That we find
A hope
A devoted way to cope

Desguised vanity
Unspoken words
Resilient recess
Wanted mesh
Why would one seek
Equivalence in sights
Across the glass wall
No matter, how tall,
Will you now just
Leave the shore untouched
May be the turtle
Has not yet nursed
Bruises it got
Fighting with the
Demons with in

sparkles in the eye
when there is nothing else to vie
you suggest, we breathe deep
lest palpitations creep
and the moments evaporate
into nothingness, or a sweet smile,
so desperate
to try,
may the patience prevail
may the hesitations die
may the sacrifice only stay
for thats what makes
the life worth living or even die

devotions in a sultry weather, go astray
the silence in a stormy wind
may be sapped
by the black-hole of expectations
only way
one keeps poise, lets the river flow and
be ready for a surprise
is to pray
may the cloudburst wash the stains
or the hot summer winds dry the roots
of the ‘weeds’
which grew in my garden
to argue, assimilate, and accommodate
if they wished,
the flowers i had grown,
medicinal plants i needed
to heal some one
the mushrooms to shelter
a few ants
wilting in a drought, else

on the threshold
i waited with berated breath
will the wave swallow the pride
of the sand
on the
shore
but then
it just collected a little bit of sand,
and went back in the arms of the sea
always in wait
always
in haste