Month: September 2014

dont entangle me in your arms
said the creeper
bent branches
and turned paths
but moss was indifferent
wind was itinerant
and i could not stay still either
now, the home is empty
and i am looking at the stars
and a moon
which made a baby cry
last night
she wasnt able to reach there
i cant either

like a benign tumour
i will not remove you completely
from my body
listen
walk
see
observe
laugh
but cleverness will not last very long
some day some body will
tell you that
calculus of this kind does not last
very long
so dance till weather is good
and friends take you out
in a world of mimicry all over
loud sounds
bright lights
and no whispers can be heard any more
but then she always tell her wishes in whispers
Ma kali is listening to our conversation
she knows who has been betrayed by whom

far above the clouds, amidst some trees
there was a small hut
on the top of the hills
where i was waiting for you
to come
and hold my hand
and take me to that blissful valley
where apple trees dont need to be protected any more
where springs flow without caring
about the stubborn rocks
coming in the way

but that did not happen
isnt that good, else
we will be still recovering form the marks
of hard grip on my wrist

a ray of hope
is all that it takes
to sustain
the wish
to remain humane
even when not
every one can reciprocate
not every one can comprehend
not every one can even be responsible

little that one needs
rock offers
and all the greenness
emanates unhinged
from lack of sufficiency
may this be your Grace
Maa Kaali
we all build upon a little
that we have still with us
from all that you gave us
and let others’ dreams flourish
may we
become manure of their dream
your blessings

why would someone throw away
the beautiful flowers
because these are tied with a string
which was used for tying a corpse
of memories
that could not be buried
and hence was found floating on a river
like a discarded garland of marigold flowers

why should each ballon burst
just when
i think
it will fly so high
that
i will be able to listen to
the whispers of clouds
dark, unsure, but willing
to embrace the rays of
a tired sun

why do these sprouts fall short
of my expectations
is it that i ask for too much
or is it otherwise
i give in too much, too soon

we brush,take bath and dust our shelves often
why should we let dust outside
be so visible
and keep inner dust obscure
why not meditate
spend just a few moments with our inner self
may be it will clean up
and empty the vessel
to receive the new Grace

else anguish
and pettiness
will fill the bin
and spill over
like dirty spectacles
every thing will look blurred
take a moment to reflect
o traveller
dont deny inner beauty
a chance it deserves

broken vase
wasn’t an issue any more
it can be built again
but what about the flowers you collected
can we grow their seeds again
can we make the bed again
without caring about accounts
of who loses
and who will gain

when the boundaries of a beautiful
garden are broken
because flowers envy the weeds
one doesn’t know whose place is taken
by whom
let us celebrate the new definitions