Wednesday, February 25, 2009


I have to make a true confession!
Please do not throw any stones at me!
I will tell you the truth of my love life!

My first love: I could not even utter a word to
The heroine of my love story, as I was afraid too much!
Second one: The one I wanted to love, never
Knew I ever existed even, and was
Ignorant of my vigorous passion for her.
It was in the third episode, I thought of
Writing a love letter, but it never reached her,
Because her mother took delivery of it, from the postman.
In my fourth affair, I appointed a messenger
And the girl started loving him instead!
She never knew about his employer.
The next two attempts-fifth and sixth
Did not succeed, as it was in the middle
Of annualexaminations,in the school,
And they both were very studious.
Seven is always an auspicious number in numerology.
That was how I could understand the real meaning
Of silence; my inexperience in matters of love!
When I failed in my eighth attempt, I switched
Onto a beard and smoking ‘ hash’ and grass, carrying
A small cotton bag, hanging on my shoulder.
And they tagged me as an ‘intellect’.

But when the earth moved away from under my feet,
In the ninth episode, I realized that despair
Will flare up anguish in the soul, torturing it.

Now tell me one thing! Can we call these
“Experiments with love {Truth}”, or pure ignorance or insolence?
Let those who have not done any of these in life,
Let them cast the first stone at me; others please drop their stones!

Monday, February 23, 2009


I am grateful!
Because you have never asked me to forget you!
Just because you never said you hated me!
There is no more elegance in my words,
That was flaring once, and now
Insipid and without vigour;
Spewing out of the pen having lost its tip.
In the penitentiary of thoughts
There is no more agitated throngs of images;

Now it is time to tell,
Without any sentiments,
The strings that forgot to sing the tunes;
“I am grateful for the recitals that you
Have very graciously emitted from those strings.
Thank you abundantly.”

Sunday, February 22, 2009

These are a few of my favourite things...

25 Random Things About Me


I hate highbrows and hypocrites.
But love white cladded maidens
On their way to church, on a Sunday.

I like fast Cars and fast drivers;
But hate to travel in a public transport bus;
And travel to the end of the world with a companion
Who shares the same interest with me.

I like to eat the lunch from a pack
Bound in banana leaf, with curd and lime pickle
On top of cooked rice and French fried potato in coconut oil
Walk through lush green paddy fields
In the morning sun and a chilling breeze.

Listen to love songs of yester years,
Brimming with innocent and vibrant love.
Read space and science fictions
And spy thrillers and crime stories.

I like those who dislike me,
Like Bindia, who nailed me on this cross,
And pray “Father, she knows not what
She is doing; forgive her trespass.”

Saturday, February 21, 2009

The eternal angle…

When you plant your flag of triumph
On the pinnacle of hate, I will call you out,
And ask you one question.
“Tell me now, do you love me truly.”

If the reply is an emphatic “No”,
You have lost from loving me, as
It was a challenge, all through your life.
If your answer is “Yes”, again you
Lose in hating me, which I really
Wanted you to believe, was my desire.

Even before any such answers, I have
Failed already, in my relation with you.
When I lied, ”I don't love you.”
Because it was more than love, that I felt inside.

When you parted and ditched me
I never wanted to abandon you.
And hence I failed miserably…
The eternal desire!

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Hermit crabs!

Two isles set apart at the greatest of distances;
Like hermit crabs crawling into its own shells,
And hiding, frightened by the amorous itch in the heart;
Those who dare not look into each other,
Being afraid of even kissing sometimes;
Those who have played complicated scenes
Deftly and very spontaneously;
Naturally, and convincingly before others in life.
Who have been the main characters of untold stories,
And unsung lyrics of songs, unheard by anyone;
Who were baffled, by keeping the entrance
To their hearts, perpetually closed throughout,
All stages of life- childhood to death bed.

Who walked away, not turning and looking back
To have a final glance once again, at last,
While parting into two paths, at the crossroads;
Taming the sea of tears, extinguishing
The embers of dreams and dreariness,
Trouncing it furtively in the soul.
Who are they?
Don’t wait for an answer!
Just close your eyes, and open now!

Monday, February 16, 2009

Your caress...

It could be just an agitation in the mind
That devoured the words unknowingly;
Words that smouldered in the stumbling heart.
Or it could be the wailing of the shivering soul
In the wind of a winter sowing silence around.

Our lingua franca is so rich with the many beautiful
Words, if they are unsaid or unuttered.
What will be the colour of the feather, falling down
In the recess of a dream and reality?
At the inception, it will be flamboyant with
All the seven colours of the spectrum;
Then fading and blanching into
Disgusting grey, and finally
Into the copper colour of age old brass vessels’
Patina, where most of the time, love takes
Its toll of death finally, and walk away.

So, my dear, swallow your words you desire to utter,
Let the wine of tender love give crimson
Hue to the starving innards of my body,
And intensive sweetness to my scorching lips
Together with a benevolent touch on
My pale emaciated arms.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

And perchance to sleep…

Once again we are looking out
Through the windows of the pale moonlight,
Into the darkness beyond, silently.
Candles of my grief stricken desires will
Never burn out or melt away.
The edifice of passions built in the subconscious;
The brandishing waves of the blackened sea
In the mind, is swirling and swelling up...
Like a hornbill’s thirst for a sip of water,
With scorched tongue and sable bill.

Let me jot down behind this bit of paper,
My woes, finally to console myself.
About how we met, then became so close,
And then parted, turning away our faces.
How the smiling buds withered dying,
Without keeping any more unsaid words;
Hiding away behind the mask of silence
And shattered all aspirations in life;
Overtly forgetting to look at each other,
Declining the touch of a finger even.
Suffice this much; let me sleep now in
The depth of this cavern with the heart
Writhing in anguish, of unparallel dimension,
Wearied nonetheless, till I am content.
Do not wake me up till my last breath.

Friday, February 13, 2009

In penance…

Swallowing the untold words of love in my heart,
Without the blanket of imagination in the mind,
Falling asleep in the rumpus of a weary night;
Lighting the funeral pyre to my wingless dreams,
Clanking the bell on the anklet of death,
I am now bidding farewell to my world.

Suppressing the roaring waves of an ocean of wrath
And melting the wild embers into the eyes,
Entangled among the cobwebs of darkness,
Stifling the sound of a weak snivel,
I am not crying in front of others.

Writing the crimson glory of the coral sky
Of the evening, in strange words,
Stretching out in the twilight and
Craving to resurrect and wakeup, seeking out
A word, to portray my woes.
I am cloistered.
I am the silence!

Sustaining and coveting to emerge from
The ant hill, to be a tiny wick of a lamp,
Daring to challenge the onslaught of the wind;
As a thread of rain, falling incessantly into the earth,
Through the tip of the thatched palm leaves;
Let me be silent for a while!

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

An anathema…

Lost love is an anathema in this birth!
Loving and then losing it,
With undisclosed reasons!
It could happen with anyone in this life;
Like an ember lightening up suddenly
And extinguish, leaving behind fumes of
Frustration, weakening the mind.
In every turn of time and seasons, it reveals
Opening its shuttered windows to show us
Strange sights unwarranted and unexpected;
Commanding us to see what are destined.
And our eyes avert vistas already familiar...
Does this eye decide what should be seen or not?
Does an arrow decide its trajectory and target?

The sights we see directly with our eyes
Could be pictures drawn by someone in the snow.
And will vanish when the summer heat of time
Touch its ruthless fingers on its canvas.
Though the flaming visions in the chest will
Never fade away into oblivion.
Despite the cruel heat or rain or mist
Or grueling circumstances benumbing us,
Will always stand like sculptures in hard stones.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Fluttering wings...

This is a woman…. And her life!
Like a migratory bird devoid of
The nest of its own, to roost every night
In the company of its mate, in bliss.
Wandering through far distant and strange lands;
Searching for food and a shore for shelter
Across the sea, in the trail of those
Who flew that way before her…

Leaving behind the nest that heard her first cry
For the nectar of life, from mother’s breast;
Renouncing the comforting consolations of loved ones
And their affectionate caresses and safety,
Flying away into the boundless horizon.
A migratory bird!

Strange faces, when spotting an unseen land all around,
Bizarre habits of the people and the curious life styles;
Life forgetting the dreams
Forgotten to see, and at last,
Like the wilting flowers of the evening
Ending like the shadows that fade away;
Again revamping a lust for flying again,
Into the plethoric magnitude of the sky,
Leaving behind, a faint flutter of the striving wings.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Solicited trespasses...

You were made for me in heaven;
I belong to you only, ordained for ever.
Keep these words chanting in your heart,
All the time you are awake;
And your subconscious will follow
When you are asleep;
When you walk alone;
When you smile in your mind;
Preserve these words in your memory.

I longed to sing a song about you,
And then you came as its voice,
Rippling and filling the air sweetly;
And when I kept open the door of my heart,
You kept hiding like the fragrance of the spring,
Wafting in the air, the scent of the Mogra flowers.
You became the pearl of my cheerful vibes.
Give me the thirst of your passions!

I yearned to have a glimpse of you;
Then you were hiding from me, mutely.
I could not tell you all that I needed.
Why did you vanish instantly, touching my soul?
What made you prompt the sprouts of my tender emotions?
Why did you unfurl your love in my dreams?
Why did you open the door in the chamber of
My nuptial bower, sneakingly without my knowledge?
You took my silence as my accent to everything!
Was it not a trespass- solicited of course?

Monday, February 2, 2009


If there is a fragrance lurking in the air,
While I awaken you, in this moment,
It is none other than the retrospect on
The lute of my forsaken soul, about the time,
Which sweetened my life, in the days of yore.
You will reenter to touch me with your reviving
Breathe on my soul, as a dream from beyond the senses;
Turning aeons into nanoseconds, bringing
Moonlight and tranquility into my life.

You will be flaking a smile around you,
Analogous to a garden of flowers in the spring;
The alphabets I jot down entirely for you,
As my poems will assume music, and reverberate
In the firmament encircling you like a rainbow.
You will not be able to remain as a recluse
And hide away from me, at that moment
But emerge out into the limelight.

You only have given me thoughts and imagination!
You only taught me to write the alphabet into
Meaningful words, entwining your heart.
I have a vision to melt into the infinity of
Moonlight and build a world of my own
For our being together, and all alone.
I have wings to fly around, and find
The unboundedness of those dreams;
And I have feathers withering and enlightening
The gloomy paths of life’s ubiquitous regions.

Sunday, February 1, 2009


The city is an ocean!
An ocean in the true sense!
Calm and serene; wild and furious;
Smiling, playing and teasing;
Muddy and with eddies down below;
Seductive, charming, and adoring;
Disgusting, abhorring, and despicable.

Loving, admonishing, rebelling, and quarreling;
Liquefying in passion and settling in compassion;
Like waves filled with froth and driftwood.
Human Sirens are roaming all over tempting us.
Beckoning us to sin, always tantalizing;
Alluringly lusty, and appealing to carnal desires.
A tarantula with spooky claws, and beady eyes.

But there is no space to lay down your head;
No hearts to share your grief;
No consoling hands to soothe your sorrow;
No souls to surrender your yearning love;
No ledge to keep your burdens for a moment;
Here you have to run to go forward as
The throng pushes you from behind.
Then you stumble, stagger, falter and drop dead.
The crowd treads over your lifeless body
And march away to an unknown destination!