Month: September 2013

why dont we forget the wrinkles
in the drapes
made by the knots
tied for long,
very long time
lest the light does not feel
unwelcome
or obstructed
but then light hasnt waited for its passage to be cleared
it emanates from within, when there is darkness outside
is there a darkness outside

while stoking the fire
in the wintry night
why take out the unburnt coal pieces out
is it that they make generate a lot of of smoke
or you are saving these for another
lonely night
when snow would not make fire
too easy to burn
or is it that you dont feel cold any more

when the sun bid adieu,
to the boats in the harbour,
the call of waves
did not deter
reflections to illuminate the way
of the boats which
had, it seemed
lost their way

if only rain will spare
my drapes
and not moisten these
making breeze cool
in a humd, dry, hot night
cool breeze will revive
all the old pains
and then no reminder will be needed
for memories
to intrude
unannounced
again

why did tears moisten the sky
why do we have to
borrow the rays reflected from the hung drops
on the leaf tip
will the drop fall
reflections call
the clouds to relay
the message
of a fallen star
will they,
will they

While Warding off
A storm
Pushing into my room
I heard a loud scream
The wind was complaining
To the window pan
Why was it coming in the way
Hinges were about to
collude
With the wind
When wisdom prevailed
I left the room
Much against the wishes of the storm
But the storm now stays
Inside

a lagoon
full of lustrous pearls
was about to receive a ship load of logs
to build tree houses
for vistors
who were tired of staying on ground
and then came a storm followed
by heavy downpour
the logs are still lying around,
waiting to be dried
the pearls are all scattered
the promises of pensive reflections of moon rays in the shallow waters
are soothing the fishes
now in station
to spawn the eggs
will you let the eggs hatch
will you let the fish grow
undisturbed
even if there is nothing else to devour,

Dialogue with myself

A stream flowing relentlessly towards another bigger stream knew that it would not be known distinctly once it meets its end. It will be assimilated, dissolved and be quiet. But then it still flowed as if there was no end. It detoured, it collided with rocks, rounding their edges, eroding their ego.

The haughty rocks didn’t mind it. But some did, they let the stream push them towards the bank. Standing on the side, they witnessed time passing by but didn’t have the courage to become sand.

Why do we fear becoming sand?
Is sand too small?
Is rock too big?

Why do yearnings of sand, the stream and the still rock not merge ?

Why do we fall on the way side just to be able to stay still?
what is the chance of stream stopping suddenly?

Let me try

Defeated
I stood
Trying to blame the winds
And the waves
Leading my sails to take the boat
In the waters, so troubled
Let me not
Defy
The dictate of my conscience
Any more
Let me close all
The holes in the sails of my boat
Navigation will not work
Rowing will nt take me closer to the shore
Let me quietly
Withdraw into cocoon
Of clear calls
From within