torn, debarked

when the storm swept me
of all the pretenses
leaving nothing to chance
torn, debarked
stem of the tree was not sure
if to live and still sprout
or die
a natural death to
feed the millions of lives around

the squirrel is waiting

when the birds chirped
a squirrel was waiting
to be treated
with respect
and given attention
she would find worthy
but the birds are no less demanding
and so is cat, waiting in the wings
amidst all the sounds
i find oen specially haunting
the one which does not ask for any thing
but dissolved in the cacophony of the rest, slowly
slowly
silently

purpose can fuel passion

can purpose fuel passion
to embrace all the hurdle
bake brick one by one,
hard
and yet leaving a hole in the middle
who knows
resonance of some sound
some time,
may insulate the building
housing the archive of missed meanings
lost deadlines
and vain hopes
some how

in rain and not get drenched, not easy

in rain and not getting drenched,
not easy
and yet, that is what true devotion
demands
but devotion to the moment is
not always so generous
it takes away covers
leaves flanks unguarded
it makes us vulnerable
when proximity travels long distances
and intimacy evaporates
let me soak rain
without getting drenched

let me know if the fences will grow this way

let me know
if the fences will grow this way
i bend
i kneel
i worship the Kaali ma
and yet when she is about
to shower her grace
i retreat
fearing her anger
revenge
and boundless love
which is no less dangerous
then her hate

the nest has fallen down

why do i keep collecting straws and sticks
when the nest has fallen down
strong winds
high tide
wavering boat
uncertain darkness
and yet
i row
as if i dont know
where will the boat go

nest of waves

every time, i falter
i lose my compass
i promise to myself to be more careful
but future is not what it used to be,
it seems more like past, same mistake repeated same way

but then some mistakes are ok, if they are honest
but what is sacred in escaping responsibility
get out of this subterfuge
dont count the waves,
nest of waves will not
trap too many fishes of hope
but if it did,
will we let the river flow

to retrieve the lost ground

For Distracting the waves,
I have been jailed by the lord of sea,
not content,
he has asked me to feed fishes,
but also warned fishes,
not to take waves for granted,

i am still struck
by a thunderbolt
frozen, like a fossil
i stand on the shore
neither able to tame the waves
nor make a dyke
to retrieve the lost ground

i crossed over the fence

once again,
i crossed over the fence
but do i regret the crossover
not this time,
but still crossing leaves footprints
and then water gets filled in those prints
because it is raining
have to try to let the fence grow a bit more
crossing over may become a bit more difficult
will the gardner on the other side
let fence grow tall
or will he prune it
like ever before?
dont know,
but do i want to know

death to deadlines

i sentence death to all deadlines
hang till they die
why do you let them live
and make the world spin
in reckless drive
why cant we patiently weave
a silken shawl
on a hand loom
with weft of joy and warp of gloom