Month: August 2014

haven’t anything to forget
but a lot to forgive
the fields left behind
untilled
will not be cultivated in near future
but you can till them
grow
whatever you want
freedom, yes, freedom is what you wanted

enjoy
freedom from my prayers
freedom from my expectations
freedom
from the responsibilities
i thought belonged to you
scars are deep
and have started to heal
let us not scratch them
i can only pray
and will always pray
i prayed in the past too
the glow
around the lakes of love
is nothing but reflections of my prayers
like floating lamps in that lake
one, which had dried then
when you had taken your herd of sheep
to graze on a green deep pasture
now sheep have returned,
pasture has dried
lake is indifferent
and i am painting
writing
walking and smiling
with new hopes
from new soldiers in the war
against my inner doubts

the grasslands inside the heart
how come, overgrazed so much
in some part
have you let someone swallow
all the dew
or is it just a clever but lovely slew

come clean, o dear red horse, leave your pelf
don’t run so fast, don’t hurt yourself

i will always wish
that you grow
so what, if it does not show
we don’t trust only what we see
we just try, try hard to be

so soon
an eclipse of moon
just yesterday
there was so much light
why has the night become
so white
is it that stars have lost all their colour
or is it that fighters have lost, all their valour
what is the reason
why so much treason
why are you quiet
why is the night so white

why should we expect more
from us and from others
will that not frustrate
make us tired
and some time
lower down our own self respect, said she,
to argue
and clarify her thoughts
no, mine

will that not cause agitation
all the time inside
oneself
i could only say
be a river
to remain agitated
or become a placid lake
still, quiet, with no agitation
i am not sure
what should i be doing
i love river
and like lake

delayed deadlines
not one
two or
many
but all

how can i give you a promise
of keeping my time
live with the uncertainty
enjoy your chocolates
be healthy
smile and be sincere in everything you do,
i know you will
at one time, that was the only way
you wanted to live
but then such times will recur
go
flow

red scarf
pnk eyes
no blisters
no wry smile

dig deep
may be you will find
key to the treasure
hidden inside your own
castle
built by us on the beach
by sand a bit moist
now that sun has dried the sand,
wind is taking its toll, no matter
what do i say
be in love with your
determination
to achieve what you want
be happy and healthy
to survive all slants
on a slippery slope
moistened by intermittent rain

grow, flow
i like the rhythm and a willingness to move on
with pride, and brightness in the eyes
refusing to stay
put for a while
to watch the old covers of torn book smile
you go, flow

closure

keep the space which you occupied
so stubbornly for so long
with you,
a small gift
of memoryscape

i will cherish
your genius
and your potential
let every whiff of air
full of such intoxicating aroma
flow your way
lat the temple of your prayers
be full of beautiful handcrafted incense sticks
made by a innovative machine
it is ok,
forget the failure of someone
who could not let
a lake by handed over to a caretaker
used to cast the nets of incidental curiosity

trivial
attentions
dont make for a serious deep sojourn
hope in future

you will forgive your tresspasses
more generously
and respect new turns in life
with greater
devotion

lessons learned by all
will help future journey
meaningful, joyful and purposeful

i am so happy
that the sprouts have flown away from a garden
i had tended so carefully
affectionately and with deep
feelings of hope and faith
of making it a beautiful garden

how could have i lived with a garden
that did not respect
the sincerity of weakling, a feeble seed
sprouting still
surrounded by more attractive flowers
yet having the courage of rising up

sincerity and honesty
are actually just words
they dont guide the pursuit of sky
by these sprouts
isnt it good that sprouts
have flown away

how could a gardner live with the guilt of nurturing
seeds that he saw as very viable
still thinks so
but then who can assure that
mere good manure will make a seed
grow into a healthy plant

so much more is needed
but minimum it needs at this stage is
that gardner is buried in that garden

abandoned by sprouts
opportunistic
at heart
though some may may regret that
but it is too late

once basic trust is broken
it is best that gardener dies
sprouts must grow
the future belong to them
they may cherish memories of manure
or healing drops of dew
they may not
does it matter

there are many other nurseries gardener has planted
some of them are growing very well
some may not in future
but at least these nurseries have given to the world
some hopeful stock of
seeds, seedlings, aroma and agenda
of unfinished dream
those dreams matter
for seeds yet to sprout
so what
if some garden withered
painful it is
but not purposeless
failures are a proof
that gardener meant well
so what if he failed to convert every seed into a giant tree
under whose shadows
million birds will make nest and keep
sky full of wings
widely spread
happy wings of pride

like a guard
stand there
dont let any weird wave cross
the border
you have drawn
guard it well
dont complain of the birds still fly into a net
you had spread to ward them off