Joy of being free

Let joy of being free
Of bondages of expectations,
responsibility and restraints
Be yours now
And don’t complain that
Constraints exist no more
Find the shores
Which nurture your desire
To be free
Of dreams
That had become burden
So what if they brought you here
In the first place

Destroying the nests

O bird
I made so many nests for you
You broke all of them
I wouldn’t have minded
If you had found a better one
But you didn’t
Destroying what you had
Leaves you
And you still believe
It is the wind
To blame
For not letting you settle
In what you
You thought was your enclave

Empty cup

My cup was empty
And you filled it
A few Times
But sometimes
You poured your tears
Which were
Not genuine
Sometimes nectar
Of soul
Which was pure
But the cup was empty still
May it learn
To remain so

Crafting new Cups

Betrayed again
The brim by the storm
In the tea cup
Or the cracks in the china
By which the potter had made the cup

Time and again
Potter has tried
To build
Cups that will
Stand the heat and the cold
But then
May be
After a while
Each of his creation gets
In the trivial pursuit of
And immediate

May be
The potter should stop
Crafting cups
And use curved leAves
May be
May be not

May be he should try afresh
With new clay
And new moulds
May be

I fail again

I have often wondered
Why do I fail in sculpting
A form
That defies
Easy definition
Trapped in mediocrity
Will I give up
No, how could
A boatm man leave
The search for wood which
Will make a boat that
Can survive storms
And many storms

broken mirrors

truth wasn’t so difficult
but i was willing to live with less
but then
not everyone can lie
so more became imperative
limits were reached rather quickly
there are many ways in which one can go
you chose the way
by the pieces of broken mirrors
mounted on the lamp posts all along the way


Frowns were visible
But where was the faith
it is obvious now
what was apparent months ago
has surfaced like a
sunk boat
immersed in water for a while
once waves eroded the planks,
it started floating


Wind is still

Wind is still
But clouds are unsettled
You can say
What you wish
I will listen
And bear
With your

munificence of meanings

the meanings went astray
as i sat
over the stone
a big dark one
near the placid lake
having a few trees
heavily laden with creepers
some having nest of weaver birds hanging on many branches
soaking moist breeze under the shade

your munificence has surpassed my ability to hold
why are you then so cold