Your smiles…

If once you smile, the lustre of the full moon
Will brim, and overflow in my reminiscence.
If once you smile looking at me, kisses
Will cascade into my golden dreams, and my memories.
We have only one desire among us!.

The rapturous shuddering you created,
Inside of my inside, by your heart touch,
Is being recited, in my soul, persistently.
Even when you are far away from me.

Even if I reach the paradise,
The spring season, in my surrounds,
Always go with me, in my dreams.
And your countenance will always bloom there.
We have only one ardent aspiration!

You have become a serene happiness in my life
My love! My passion! My sensuality!
The morning song I chant in the dawn,
And the strain I hum in the dusk.
A shower of nectar from heaven on this earth!

Beyond…

Far beyond the swelling ocean,
And all the oceans of this earth;
Far beyond this earth and the sky,
Those who venture for such a mission
Seeking all other systems of the universe!
May I ask you one earnest question?
Could you find a Man there or
Anywhere among those, unknown places?
Is there any religion there? And if
Any supreme Gods, being worshipped?

The epics and scriptures taught us lies, that
Man used to live here, once upon a time!
There are gods; there are demons also here.
Not a Man, as they say, could be found yet.
Religions lied to us that, there prevailed once,
An age of equality, in this good earth.

There are Hindus, Muslims, and Christians here,
But still a Man could not be found yet.
Have they changed their labels from Man?
Have they all made an exodus to other worlds?

Stage show.

God has incarnated as man in this world.
And volunteered to take over the grief of mankind,
In the arena of life, comprising
Days and nights, sea and shores
Of happiness and woe; tears and smiles.

Life follows the fate, the aftermath of
Previous births; transmits bitterness and
Sweetness in its wake, clad in sadness
At times, and resplendent with joy.
Drama of incarnation continues interminably.
Only the stages change, and the scenario too.

We are just onlookers, not understanding
The play, and how it evolves, or it ends.
Our tears conceal our vision, watching it.
He sleeps in the midst of the roaring ocean,
In the frightful forest, or in an atom

Man has commenced to worship religion;
And not the God, the fundamental Truth.
Now religion is God and supreme power;
Also wealth, another religion and god.
God is retreating from the stage, and
Has no part to play, anymore!

Lunatic Asylum!

We are a kind of lunatics; and the world is
Changing, into an asylum, for us.
Moral values are degraded.
When we worship and meditate
Over a supreme power, we call God.
Those who consider Him, as a feudal lord.
And an autocrat, desire to remain
Pleasing Him, be loyal to Him,
And in compliance, to His wishes.

Those who see Him as the embodiment of Love,
Only can think about co-operation,
And for caring others, shouldering responsibilities,
And other values of life, we hold sacred.
Which are fast diminishing.


Man is now atomized, and aspires to fulfill
Only his wants alone; not keen for
Social relations, and collaborations,
Having lost his subjectivity, and duties.
They find consolation in miracles, faith healing,
Sorcery, necromancy, exorcism
And exhibition of power, by prayers,
As a make belief and rush to that crowd.
Magician claim supernatural powers,
And become god men with innumerable followers.


This has become a fad in cotemporary life,
And society approves them as true worshippers.
What kind of treatment is possible
If the shackles which is meant to keep
The lunatics under control, become mad?

Lonely Traveller.

I am a lonely traveller…
Journeying through some dreamy spring forest,
I have no idea, how I reached here
Nor do I know where I have started.
I don’t know my destination;
This much I know, I have entered this forest,
And lost my way, and do not know whither I am bound to!

I am a traveller searching the face of human beings;
An illusion, nonplused; and still travailing.
Still walking, seeking, but of no avail.
When the day enters, behind the curtain of
Darkness, with wearied treads, I try
To sleep under the shade of the big tent,
The sky has spread above me.

Reminiscence, like a rose flower
In a bravura vase of the mind;
Like the incessant rain splattering
In the night, on the tin roof, of the soul;
The vanishing mist, and the night who
Vanquished a beautiful opulent evening;
The air wafting in a soft melody in the distance,
In negligence, passing above me.

It dawns on me, that everyone is wearing a mask,
Smiling and charming, radiating kindness
From the eyes, and with soft voices.
A façade to dupe his neighbor,
A make-belief, to appear as saints.
I discern, the painted veil peeling off
From their masks, and see demons there.
Vixens with avarice and lust, preying!

Rudderless…

Like some paper boats wafting and billowing
In the lake, of tears and the shores far away;
No one for help, or to walk along together
To share the grief, in the lonesome heart.

In a far corner of the sky, there glimmer
A handful of stars, in the darkness of the night,
As pilot lamps, guiding me to unknown shores.
Occasional lightning, digging trenches
In the drenched cold clouds, convey
The wrath, of the forsaken night.
Still listening the soft melody of
The rippling sea, and
The song of the sea birds
Preying for the small fish.

The flame of desire for the life is
Swirling, as in a Jacuzzi; lonely hours
Is when the wind claps its hands.
The earthen vessels of anguish
Seeking a drop of water to quench its thirst.
And far away, the morning sky appear,
Showing, a silhouette of the land line.
I am nearing the shore, not much distance now!

Passions!

Passion in the mind felt for one’s mate
Abruptly changes to hatred, in the mind,
With disastrous consequences!
It is like the sudden seizure of oxygen in
The air we breathe, convert the world
In the chasm, of a stand still, eternally.
Not wishing for flowers to bloom to morrow
Is factually committing suicide or homicide;
Closing the house of maternal labor,
Inducting, the finale of the human race.

They are not inclined to bear each other
Through the matrimonial link, which now
Bind them, and declare husband and wife,
Till the gates, of the cemetery.
Their wombs refuse to bear a child;
Disinterested and immune to love,
Passion, or lust, not even goodwill.

Such feelings perpetrate, to create a pyre,
To burn and annihilate the mankind;
They are not prepared to make a fire by attrition
In a sacrificial ritual and kindle it,
And sustain it without extinction,
To give out the warmth, for nurturing the posterity.

Those who safeguard that fire and flame
Turns passion, into honoured love.
They are the ones, who build the house
Of humans; for generations, yet to originate,
To live in comfort, in years to come...
How amazing is that, the last hook
In the link of passions, is bonded to love,
In the human mind, and soul;
And in its wake, a bi-product emerges - LUST!

Lost Boundaries…

Life is no more complicated.
Love has become a means to an end,
In adopting a mate for satiating,
The sexual urge, haunting the body cells.
Even if the woman is prepared to yield,
It stems from a temptation, battling in the mind.
The call of the flesh or of passion, dormant inside.
She evades from being owned,
Even when accepted, as one’s Adam’s rib.
Now, no one can posses her exclusively.

Nevertheless, both try for unison as one,
They divide, as twins repeatedly.
Even if assuming, they are two halves
Of one entity, they remain separate,
And are in pursuit of finding its other half
Again, among the vast multitudes.

Sexuality is now the forward thrust of
Society, in its procreating activity.
It is never an amoral game or play;
Not a senseless bout between two.
It is a war against death,
For the survival, of mankind.
Sterilized love, is suicidal and retaliatory.
A retribution done to avenge the hatred
Inundating the mind, in frustration.
It is sterilizing the future of the affected as well.
Life is at a standstill, when there is no procreation.
And a countdown on doomsday, commence!

Beyond Crossroads…

Petals of the heart hold in its hues,
The pigment of sexuality.
Scriptures, Vedas, myths, and epics, in
Every culture depicts these stories.
And history never fails to reiterate them.
Imprinted in human mind, these stories
Reappear and the heroes and heroines are the same.
Except the differences through cultures,
Names differs, attire differs and scenario too.
Also songs; we call them: love songs, duets,
Melodies, pops, or even soft blues.

Man cannot exist on his own; neither woman.
He is, and she also lives in the shadows of a thought
Enveloped in sexuality, through fascination,
Adoration, passion, lasciviousness, co-habitation,
Or even matrimony; then procreation, to fill the vacuum
In his or her existence, to make it perfect.
This want is towering in the mind as
A craving of the soul, to find its own mate;
A thirst for finding the better half or the other half
A longing, to discover the missing hemisphere.

Ruminating over one’s self, the presence
Of a woman, invade the subconscious.
As,in the mind of a woman too.
It develops into a hypothesis.
Deep inside, someone calls or cries,
From the cave’s mouth of the body.
Who calls?
The call of the other half, reverberates in the marrows,
In the mind, in the sinews, in the desires,
And makes a duality; a unison, in one’s being.
And pine for a support from the other half
To continue the existence…

Lost Horizons…

Born somewhere, die somewhere, live somewhere…
Days and nights pass by carrying heavy
Loads of life’s miseries, on the shoulders,
Limping, and staggering, like a lame duck,
We are scapegoats of our destiny.

Where did this journey commence?
From a point in eternity, or endless time?
Where do we get a rest in this illimitable journey?
Our desires cease to exist with the last breath.
All human relations terminate at the grave yard.
Who placed a counterfeit coin in the purse of the heart?
Called dreams, besmirched with distress.

Friends who shun you; or the society
Longing to cast stones at you?
Those flowers, withered and diffused in the earth,
As dead ones, whose treads they have imprinted
In this soil, will certainly return one day,
After having changed their soiled attire,
From their chambers, in Hades.
Like the sun returns to the sky, after the eclipse.

Conservation

…


Does anything in this earth, ever perish?
And disappear into nothingness and void?
A leaf, a life, a flower, a song, a rainbow!

A tree, a leaf, or a flower, when it withers
The good earth receives it with pleasure.
It dissolves with the mud, in its source.
The roots take away the substances,
And bring them back to life.
The remnants of a human being disintegrate and
Unite with the five elements which composed it.

The whole earth is a grand grave yard,
For withered, battered, and dead lives;
Buried and hidden in its cavernous womb;
Over millenniums, ever procreating
From the debris of accumulated fragments,
In another shape; tubers, cereals, fruits, crops,
And food for whatever we eat as flesh,
To complete the cycle of life, in the universe.
Even the scattered ash over water
Comes back as salt from the sea in our food.

Nothing can be severed from anything eternally.
That proclivity exists in everything, animate or
Inanimate, similar to proton-neutron relation.
That is human bondage, nature’s bondage!

History…

History is a big lie, concocted by victors
Written after the struggle, to justify
The acquisition of power in war,
Or revolution, in the country.

The vanquished becomes the oppressed.
The lies continue to defraud the souls,
Of a nation and its populace, for
A long period of time, till another one,
Writes a revised note, as appendage
To the established order, of lies.
Here the rusted customs become laws
And new generations believe,
They are the truths, as a scripture.

All truths, are hidden camouflaged
By false propagandas, and biased news.
Man is living under constant deluge,
Of the deceit, perpetrated by those in power.
God and truth, faith and virtues,
Stand away, in constant concern and fright;
Unable to intervene, and set it right!