Lone Moments…

The acquiescent delight in the heart meekly exhaled,
Is seeking you, as the stream, for the ocean;
Like the brook hugging the sandbank, meander
By kissing the shores, then swells into a river
In its thrust to reach the Ocean, finally
Become roaring waves, accosting you.

My dearest, I tender my veneration as tears…
My homage, brimming from the heart as droplets
Of my blood, deliquescent with my love!
Tears, as flowers of spasm, of my pain.
From the forsaken life you have gifted me…
And sighs, of the bleeding heart, in anguish.

I remember the day, when you came to me
With your amiable smirk, and entered
The depth of my soul, with a big bang.
Reminiscing those moments, I lie down,
Whimpering in solitude, on my bed.
Words stutter in the breast, eyes wandering
In the horizon, illegible mutterings;
Quivering lips, groans soaked in tender love;
Fizzy desires, flash floods in the eyes shedding
Remorseful rhapsodies, moments closing the eyelids;
Wavering emotions, asinine thoughts;
Pearls of sweat, sprouting on the fainting frame,
Embracing grief; rare moments of sweet tears of the psyche;

Rapture filled showers of raindrops
Causing magnificent rainbows, in sentiments;
Passions immersing in wingless consciousness;
Radiant countenance filling with love, from
The shedded leaves of memory of life, are throbbing;
Out flowing strains of pleasure from the flourishing love
Of the mind, inside a world of dreams,
Are fading away, with the immobile ecstasy in my memory…..

Last rites!

Memories, amity, links through previous births,
Wealth, desires, charity, deliverance from worldly bonds,
And all, are illusory and desultory delights
Of the unknowing mind, lacking wisdom in its hold.
Only one thing remains as eternal and ingenuously true.
DEATH, and its reflections; the ensuing grief.
In the unexpected wounds inflicted in the soul,
Every step becomes warfare, like a ‘*Kurukshethra’
In the mind, and each moment, a Good Friday.

From a mysterious void, emanate the life
With different faces and shapes, most unusual,
And extra ordinary, very much divergent,
Strange and unique, unrivalled and idiosyncratic
Entity; vivid, vivacious, and radiant
Incomparable incarnations of intrinsic worth!
For this entity called “you” or “me”, death is
The end of our world; we become naught!

When the metamorphosis through death turns me into ashes
Do you know what makes me intrepid in that state?
Your look, your tinge, your voice, the fragrance
Embracing your body, ever blooming glow
Embellishing your loveliness, your weariness, your tear drops,
And the purity gleaming in your face, in prayer!


* Kurukshethra is the battle fought between the Pandavas and the Kouravas,in the epic
'Maha Bharatha'.

Tryst with grief…

My cherub, I know you as a sodden recollection
Writhing in pain, in the realm of my thoughts;
Seeking you as the sweet dripping nectar.
Cherished in the mind, through decades...
As melliferous memorabilia, treasured in the
Chest of my thoughts, like dew kissed blooms
Of the forsaken soul; as the river of my feelings,
Influxing in the tide with fizzy ripples,
Your remembrance is infusing an unsullied
Fragrance, in the air around me, fills my soul...
I know you, as a charisma of my gloomy days,
A stumbling rhythm lurking, in my chest,
A tremulous music, in my vagrant emotions.
Teardrops oozing, out of my wet eyelids,
Vibrant and vivid dreams of munificent compassion...

You came, opened the latched door, sat beside me.
A bewitching and alluring smile
Skulking on your angelic lips;
Carrying a translucent chill into my being,
Pouring, the nectar of allurement into my soul.
Let me inebriate and exhilarate in the sweetness
Of the dream, your thoughts have perpetuated in me….

Waiting for someone…

I am sure; there is no one,
Ever to come through this path;
I know. even so, I intensely hanker,
Someone,Dear to my heart,
Will come, one day near me,
Through this way.

Though I hope in vain,
Still hopes and dreams, may one day
Become a reality, and fulfilled...
The spring has, many a time wandered away
With its sweet blossoms, and could not bestow
The tree with its gifts, of floweres
And fruits, for many a year.
It may happen once, when the changing seasons,
In its aberration, may bring around the flowers,
Per chance.
These, are my aspirations,
And hope against all hopes!

I am sure; there won’t be a soul,
Who may chance to come,
Through this forlorn path, to my house.
Yet, I go up to the gate house, stand,
Fumble around, and stare in dismay,
All the distance through the winding road,
To make sure, my destiny is not changing!

I yearn to hear a rustle of a tread
On the cobble stones. familiar one;
Hearken it through the lowest
Decibels of sound, even a whisper, or a murmur.
The footsteps, of someone so close
To my heart, but in vain.

Though no one has promised to return,
While parting, and I reminisce it always;
Despite that, I keep my gate
Ajar, usually for him to enter,
Undemanding, if he chooses so.


Now when I hear an earshot of footsteps,
Near the gate I think for a moment,
My sweet spring has arrived at last,
Quite unexpected.
And hurries to accost him, with all the longing,
Conserved in the heart, for so long.
Standing at the gate, setting my eyes
Across the path and at last find a stranger
Turning back, half way, realizing
He has lost his way;
Even without looking back.

Poor humans!

The bearish trend has vanquished the stock market,
Where value of man has declined, and decrescent to naught.
The MAN. Capable of subduing the heavens,
Super efficient, than the super computers…
Marauders and plunderers sit at the helm
And the devaluation still continues.

This man only, established religions in this earth;
And religions, created gods in their fashion.
Lastly, the man, the gods, and religions together
Split and shared the earth; and conscience of mankind.

They became Jews, Christians, Islam, and Hindus;
Detested to recognize and revere each other.
Millions of human hearts, turned to become arsenals.
God is dying in the street corner; and Satan is guffawing.
Whither goes the truth, whither goes the charm,
Whither the liberty, whither our consanguinity?
Where is the reincarnation of god, who used
To be here, every millennium?
Man is perishing out in the street,
And religions are grinning! POOR MAN….

Love Exchange

The love, exchange tales between eyes, through eyes.
Do you know that the sacred water, springing in you
As desire, is the sweet nectar of passion?
You feel inebriated by drinking that potion.
It turns out melodies and ditties in your heart,
Chilling your soul; like tender spring
Making blooms, and the pearls of dew, forms over the petals.
The pristine fragrance, kissing you to frenzy,
Sweetening the nerves with its grace.
Every moment is blessed with rare repose
Diffusing and dissolving inside that delight...

You, like a picture drawn with poetry,
Like the timid diffidence, in the eyes of the lotus flower,
Like a psychedelic dusk over the sky;
Like a bouquet of rose flowers;
And me drowning in the depth of your tiny dimples,
Swimming among the waves of golden hue of your charms,
Beckoning me to a shore hitherto unseen.
A destination in another re-birth
Through the music, of your eternal love!

Forlorn memoirs…

Your mind learned lessons of Love;
Does that love, induce an ecstasy in you?
Your mind yearned for the desires to come true.
Are you content now, having attained your dreams?
Your laughter contended with flowers;
You filled me with nectar, from your lips
A thousand rebirths fled away from my soul.
Beads of perspiration on your breast,
Changed into a pearl necklace, for me.
Your love was never blemished with lust;
It was a transcendental euphoria
In the inner temple of the soul;
An evolution of cherished dreams,
Which flowered in our past re-births.

Dreams, still unwilling to fade away are
Broken platters, of the unforgetting mind...
You have become a woeful reminiscence
Bawling in desolation, inside me…

Light in search of a lamp…

The light is rummaging for a lantern,
And the lamp is seeking the light.
Both are groping in the darkness,
A search, for one another.

The imbecile, lights a torch at mid-day
To observe his surroundings,
As the desires, are craving for fulfillment.
The river and water separate when it reaches the sea;
Grief and agony sever away from the soul
When the last breath of life, is exhaled.
In the empty desert of great expectations,
The lonely horn-bill of the mind, yearns
For the rain cloud, of happiness.
Spring bids farewell to the blossoms in the garden
And fragrance, deserts the flowers.
A cage is lamenting for the nightingale
Who fluttered away into the deep blue sky,
Liberating, from imprisonment.

Life is flowing like a stream; in it
The ripples assume the shape of our imagination.
Like the ocean of our hopes and desires,
The sea beckons, the stream, from afar.
Enter the mansion of tiny little dreams
Adorn a little smile on the lips;
Bury yourself in the warmth of oblivion.
Aspire for those dreams to come true...

Meanderings…

Until when, the woes?
Till our dreams in this world dries up?
I am cognizant of gloom and radiance, yet
Who can decide on shadows, which intervene?
It changes its shape and character, incessantly.
Why does the mind keep an umbrella above its thoughts,
When storms of dejection agitate the mind?
Let me bear the black coffin of frozen secrets
Of my mind, till I leave this mortal abode of my soul.

How many times God has incarnated here,
To correct the trajectory, of mankind?
In return we gave Him only, a wooden cross
And thorns for His pate, and stealthy arrows.
We split, share and segregate
The earth, and religion, coveting gold
And wealth, and treasures; and even
Our conscience, with that avarice.

We keep a wall amidst us, isolate even our
Affections of the heart, and congenial exuberances.
We may throw away the epics and scriptures
And even dare to try sharing the Creator, also..

VOGUE

…
This aeon is treacherous;
An age of strife, evil and wickedness
We see only masked faces
Turning our life into masquerades;
Feigned smiles, convincing flatteries,
Fetish beliefs, false promises;
All carrying a shackle attached to their ankles.
High- octane thoughts, high pitched laughter,
{“Like the crackling of thorns, under a pot”},
High-speed affability, pretending hypocrites;
Hyperbolic utterances, simulated snobbishness.

When man loves another man
God is taking birth in their minds.
When he starts hating another,
HE dies in the mind, and HE is buried!

On the sacrificial stone at the alter
Of unseen fate, the Time has placed man
As a sacrifice; his limbs tied up and
The guillotine may come down, any moment..
Truth has been chasing the dumb shadows
Of falsity, and myth always, in vain.

Time is a torrent and in the deluge, the desires
Plunge and surmount, rambling and drifting
In a quandary, as in a Jacuzzi.
We may believe that the quaint horizon is at hand
Yet, when we near it, it becomes distant.
That is the horizon of our desires!

Conquest…

“Dearest! What makes you to conceive
That grief is alluring, and sweet to taste?”

“I feel I am more beautiful when I immerse
In grief and douse my face in tears.”

“Why don’t you hate or despise those,
Who believe, they are your foes
And disparage you with indignation?”

“In life, I have been wrestling with my enemies,
Invoking their prowess, into my psyche’s brawn.
And have made myself into a chivalrous warrior.
They do not deserve to be abhorred, and detested,
But adhered and adored as treasures, because
They always give their strength to me”

“What makes you prefer darkness over radiance?”

“Because, what I envisage in the light
Is the disgusting effrontery of truth.
In darkness, I see the enchanting dreams,
Incited by immortal and pleasant emotions.

“Why you keep solitude as your soul-mate?”

“I realize how charming I am, in my loneliness and seclusion.
And perceive the heart-touch of the Creator, on my indelible wounds.”

Tranquility…

“Rise and shine” she said.
The smell of fresh coffee conquered the nostrils.
She stood there simpering.
A silhouette against the window.
The scent of aromatic hair oil diffusing;
Fragrance of imprisoned jasmines,
Emanated from her braids.
A dulcet ditty! A ripple of prettiness!
She opened the window panes and cast
The curtains to one side, allowing the morning
Breeze, to caress our body, with a sweet chill.
Morning mist swallowed the perfume of the soil,
Lurked over the vista, like smoke, as the
Green meadows exhaled vapor.
Sodden earth, trying to grin, in the early light.
A forlorn tree cast its long shadow,
Over the placid waters of the pond.
Silvery clouds rubbed shoulders amid the blue sky,
While wandering over the hills and dales.


Somewhere, in the ground floor, a baby
Was crying, for the mother’s breast.
A lonely row-boat slithered over the calm
Water of the lake, dodging the water hyacinths
Floating, in full glory with its purple flowers;
Some one trying to catch a stray fish with a rod.
Birds chirping in the air; in the distance, echo
The melodious whistle, of a stranded train.
The nature in philharmony!

I am in euphoria, a trance, a stupor…
I am a part of this wonderful universe!

“Drink that coffee, before it gets cold”.
I thought I heard a far away voice,
Rippling in the air, telling me...
It broke my reverie; she was there near me.
I pulled her hand and drew her to my side.
A prologue, to the sweetest moments of matrimony!
A lullaby for the soul….

Resurrection…..

This earth is a dark dungeon;
Walls of black horizon, surround it.
Imprisoned inside these ramparts,
We are condemned to live our life.
Panting and suffering;
Loving and reproducing;
Hating and terminating;
Negate, perish and become a naught!

Above our head, the empty sky sweltering us,
Underneath, the shadows crawling through its hell.
Why the spring evenings arrive here to paint
The panorama with its brilliance,
Try to make us ugly and swarthy in this dust,
Coating us with a bizarre shade?

Fetters in the hands, obscurity in the soul,
I am sitting in this penitentiary of time.
Who will open this trellis door, to let me out?
The mute firmament, in front of me, and
Behind me, utter gloom and dense murk.
Does the flame in this cage of five elements
Lighted by obsessive desires,
Ignite in the wind of passion, or fade out through time?

Can’t you just resurrect me from this agony,
My beloved, by your immortal love

Our Shangri-La…

Whom are you worshipping always in your soul;
Dreaming when languor closes your eyelids;
Enveloping with your luscious kisses from your sensual lips?
Why immersing the flowers in shyness, with your smile?

Who is putting the make-up, of the autumn’s
Evening sky, in your countenance?
Who is writing love poems, in the corners of your doe eyes?
What all melodies are stockpiled in the rivulets
Of your ringlets, like the flock of goats
Going down, from the Mount of Gilead.

If I could become the gold braided wrap in your
Desolate bed of that chamber, where you sleep,
Your sandal fragrant soma could always
Entwine my bosom, with all the love you possess.
If I could become a butterfly, fluttering around
In your garden, I can always imbibe the nectar of your passion
From the chalice, of your intense desires.
In your dimples, I read the thumbnails of a love embedded saga.
Your surreptitious glances, shoot Cupid’s erotic arrows.

I keep open a thousand doors,
A thousand doors of my soul,
For you to enter in grandiose and together we
Make our haven in Shangri-La - YOU AND ME!.

My golden dawn…

No need for another sunrise;
You are my golden dawn.
Another sweet spring returning to the garden
Is in vain, since you are beside me.

I came here just to listen to the rustling of
Your anklet and the symphony it instill.
My life turned in harmony with the music
Emanating from the lute, of your consolations.
You have become the melody of my soul,
And its infinite, eternal flame.

We sat on the shores of our desires;
You stood in your waywardness,
Where the waves swirled and caressed you,
Writing and wiping out, our dreams on the sand
We spent nights with our aspirations
Sleeping on the stones, holding its own dreams,
And they turned our dreams, exciting our longing
Into lascivious yearnings, in the mornings.

The pearls in your anklets are the stars in the heaven;
The Golden Fleece in the sky is the silken cover of your breast.
Your words reflect the smell of the musk,
Your eyes radiates the lustre of a thousand lamps in the dusk
The ineffable delight searching a sculptor, you are
Ethereal and a paradigm of Venus.

Again spring…

The tear drops trickled in the oyster of the mind
Enlivened into radiant pearl.
Incandescent sighs kept hidden in the heart
Emerged, as nascent sweet melodies.
The jingles from the temple of pulsating hopes
Awoke, the insipid, dormant senses.
The buds remaining in the dark stupor in penance,
Began, to smile in the golden dawn.
The ornate spring has arrived in our souls,
Our zealous desires have blossomed.

It was not me who kissed you in your slumber;
But the rays of the emerging moon.
Not my nail which scratched your cheeks;
It was only the cupid’s arrows.
Not me, who hugged you, titillating your soul.
Could have been the scented breeze, from the garden.
Or the pleasant wintry gloom which
Enthralled, enveloping you in its mantle.
I will just hide in the slough of your breast
As a reverie, my charming cherub,
Making my heart throbs as the sweet tinkle of bells,
In a manner of worshipping your loveliness.

Silence…entangled.

Tell me my angel, (It’s futile! I assure.)
Why do you keep away from me?
These days when the shores of my mind
Is inundated by incessant rain of despair,
The bowl of my heart is brimming with grief;
You are still quiet!

Erstwhile days were celestial, with bouquets of smile
In me and you, when each of your words were
Musical, resonant with amiable candour.
Whichever shores of dreams in you
Scotch the waves of agony, dreadfully?

Is there any heart in here, not hankering for,
The fusion, of dreams and slumber?
And moments, of aesthetic sentiments of love?
Any world of imagination awakening
Without the embrace, of kisses and desires?
Any surreal beauty or love, or passion,
Or fulfillment of life?

The craving in my bosom is always
To disintegrate as an emotion in your heart,
To awaken as a strain of melody in the slumber
From your lap, yet I tell you
It’s futile to remain away from me……

Transcending lives…

I got dressed up and sat near
The window of my chamber,
Looking out for something
I was not sure about!

A thousand recollections crowded
In the mind, smoothening with the balm
Of a golden feather touch, from heaven
Consoling the desirous psyche.

Unquenched desires, sobbed inside,
Hearkening each flutter, in the silent air
And the sound of each dry leaves, falling down.
Eagerness up-surging; emotions riding the tide
Darkening the mind;…rain splashing down.
The ice cube in the mind, melting, and
Tears running down the cheeks.

In imbroglio, extinguishing myself
As a golden flame, panting before
The sigh of a tiny breeze.
Yet, I smell the scent of a bloom
Flowing in from the unknown distant future
Transcending our present lives,
Hovering over my sorrowful heart….

For your eyes only…

I never tried to weave a garland of jasmine,
To adorn your deep blue tress
Yet, how could you discern, that my arbour of jasmine
Was diffusing the perfume for you only?

The nectar of my love, though brimming in my soul,
I have not touched it, by a word and given it to you.
I never tried to dab the tears on your cheeks with my lips
In the loneliness of, some dark blue nights.
Still you knew, I embrace in my soul the thoughts
About you, all through out my present life.

Again and, again you inveigle my dreams
Awaken them with kisses after kisses incessantly.
Will the nomadic clouds ever give me a quill of its rain
To write a siesta of love on my aching eyelids,
Searching, the shores of tears in every dawn.
I am groping for the coloured dots of the rainbow
Of my amour, in the bundle of my reminiscence.

I will steal a drop of light from the candle of love
Shining in the alter of my soul
And spread its radiance before you.
You always give a trillion memories in my mind.
It wears the anklet of your love
And its tinkle resonates in my life..

I will awaken you…

I will awaken you, singing a soft
Sweet melody in your ears,
Without blowing off the ravishing
Dream from your mind.

I will not try to wipe away the smile
On those delicious lips,
Without chasing the cloud,in the horizon,
Attempting to shower the rain, willy-nilly.

Even the flowers adorning
Your plaited hair, wherein lurks the radiance
Of the blue black heavens.
Will not be aware of it.

Without making even a ripple in the deep blue
Ocean of your star studded eyes;
The black mole on your breast will never
Know the tender touch of my fingers.
The nightingale in your mind will not spy on
My presence, in your chamber.

What made you to come near me and bestow
The gift of your lives here after, with me?
You came stealthy and settled in my lap
Whispering, inaudibly in my ears
Your distaste of life, with heartache.
The leaning shadows will not notice;
The rain soaked clouds are busy kissing the earth;
And now I will awaken you…

Panacea…

I always sing the melodies you write;
Reminiscence, a tintinnabulation
Scherzos, a panacea for my soul,
Your tantrums, tantalizing the core of my being.

Covertly you stole my heart, in the first glance
Second time, I felt something else
Choking my breath with sweet honey
Of your mesmerizing glimpse,
Later I coveted to see you again
That urge, budding into a magnificent obsession,
A craving, to be near you, eternally.

A harem of admiring nymphs, surrounding you
Offering encomiums on the success of your
Splendor tapestry, in artful creations.
I could niether discern you through lives,
Nor cover my silence in quietness,
Nor glitter, as a golden flame in you,
Nor melt as, a molecule of dust under your feet.
But remained, as a relentless ache, of the sun
In the twilight of the dusk, in a far away corner.
And piercing loneliness all around me.
I sat and my soul hummed those melodies.

Aren’t you the lullaby of my life, my world?
Take me as a teeny drop of rain, hanging
Over the edge of a leaf in your garden.
Accept me as the tranquil breeze, dampened
In the mist of my forlorn tears;
Let me be with you, yet for a brief moment.

Game of the heart…

Playing a game in the squash court,
With rebounding emotions of the heart
As the soft ball, till it bleeds and withers
And the opponent decorating his lips with
A deceptive smile and the gait of a winner,
Walks away and you’re left alone!

The rules were fair, the play a barbarity
Savage words and bitter strokes…
Yet I yielded the whims and fancies of
Outrages vociferations which led to crucification
And vituperations of schizophrenia,
Which I meekly admitted, as if I played a foul game;
As he was my best and unique pal and
I never wanted to lose him forever…

The mind always search in unknown shores and
Far away regions to discern a lost companion,
Missed en-route through your past rebirths..
Every moment the wind writes memoirs on the sand
And wander away, the waves blot it out
The next instant, ruthlessly with a cruel mind.
Calm sometimes, rebellious another time,
Turbulent at times, agitated, and weeping in grief
With suppressed mysteries of desires.
Yet, the fisherman adores its nature
And cling to her bosom, as of his mother.

Every man is an ocean, ever on the lookout in debris
For lost treasures and possessions withered from his heart

Life is a struggle…fight it.

The struggle for existence has long history as of mankind itself. Life is always a struggle. Struggle for food, shelter, clothing, and above all peace of mind .Life is a dead end street. ’Life is but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage. And, then heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing” [Shakespeare]

When we observe the nature, is that possible to find that, there exists such a struggle there? Everything is calm, and serene, controlled, in order, and that is the reason we term it as ‘natural’. The fundamentals of struggle are rooted down in our minds, feelings, and desires. Our needs, our greed.. That is why we struggle in life. These factors are corroding the peace in our life. We have to come out of that cocoon and live in joy and sunshine. Our success and happiness lie with us. External conditions are the accidents of life. .’Hard words, passionate attitudes, destructive thoughts,. Uncontrolled impulses, and desires, free floating fears, and anxieties cripple our ability to live a life of contentment, and meaning’. 'The aim of life is self development. To realize one’s nature perfectly- that is what each of us is here for” (Oscar Wilde) Struggle actually happens in the mind only. If we understand that truth, there is no need to fight. ’The treacherous, unexplained areas of the world are not continents, or the seas; they are in the mind and hearts of men’. .Our way of thinking has to be changed into a positive path. Accept the things that we cannot change. In making a living today, leave room for life, for reminiscence, for love, for laugh, and for imagination.

‘Life is a series of transformations. Death only one more change of address’

“Happy is the man and happy he alone
He who can call today his own.
He who secure within can say
To morrow, Do thy worst, I have lived today.”