Month: December 2014

these flowers dont wilt
whether you irrigate them
or nourish them
put these under shade
let them bathe in sunlight
but these breathe still
not in anticipation
but in absolute surrender
if these were to expect solace,
they will not be so silent
they are going to bloom
every time,
you are sad or lost
do you want these flowers
have them
they are yours

pink it was
was it

Tried to train
A creeper over a trunk
But no, it wanted to spread
Over thick bushes
Thorny some
Dark leaved others with no spines
It spread itself
Far and wide
And one day it realised
The trunk of tree still
Could accommodate
The blooming shower
of petals
When the creeper would flower
Without a question, however
The burden of embrace
Was too much
For tree
And the creeper no less

Why should a leaf not matter
Even if dried
Folded and pressed
From a tree
Under which I had meditated
For your peace and progress
Having short changed the
Time
And obligations of reciprocity
Why bemoan
That a leaf is not enough
Flowers are beautiful
But without the aroma
Of warm
Assured
Truthfulness
Their beauty is short lived
Why not confess
For once
That when seasons changed
You forgot to adjust your watch
Now that you are late
You regret
That a blooming garden
Has become indifferent
To the fury of a storm
That once embraced
The tree so tight
That its sap spilled over
And the whole forest
Was soaked in its fragrance

Sent from my iPad

I was looking for just one flower
Then I found so many
Raising their head
Cracking layers of snow
Melted by the warmth
Of yesteryears
When flowers didn’t need permission to
Blossom
Wind blew unhindered
Clouds covered the path
You walked on in hot summer
Amidst quiet trees
And talkative birds
May be
The seasons will change
May be conscience will squeak
The pains will persist
And truth will germinate
Diversions will be admitted
Pursuits will become more honest
May be
Don’t know
But till then let
The flowers bloom

a single flower
can fill the whole landscape
if only we measure aroma
and blur the colours
but then green lawn
pink flower
did not find comfort
in being observed so keenly
now where are the other flowers
where are the smiles scattered
by the wind
so soft
that even
whispers echo for centuries

no matter how many times
i replaced the mirror
or repaired it
you will crack it again
healed field
or fragmented images
soiled soul
or precipitated pleasure
or unwillingness to absorb
dont know what it is
which comes in your way
to absorb even the most graceful rays
of a fading sun

once upon a time
there was an old fort
and there were many shadows in front of it
but one stood out
in pink
blue or was it brown

then a star fell
from somewhere
and got stuck
to my
keyboard
now there are many keys
but where is the lock
which i had opened that day

may be that has got rusted
may be it lost its purpose after being opened
may be i need to learn to open the lock again

why did i seek
in the suspended
vine from a branch of a window
with a broken pane
a possibility of aroma
entering my mind
to make me hope,
have faith
and build anew the bridge between what was
and what could be
was it love for randomness
or a desire to court uncertainty