To the stars with love…

I asked the stars and the planets in the firmament;
The Pleiades, Orion, Betelgeuse, Arcturus, Jupiter’
And the countless galaxies, in the universe.
I asked them your name, which I did not know.
None of them knew your name!
But they together asked me one question.
“Do you love her so much?”

I told them that she is someone precious
To me, more than the value of all the diamonds
In this universe, that could be mined.
That I cannot be replete, with all the love
That I could muster through the innumerable
Days and nights, equaling your numbers.
I will not be gratified with the quantum of
Moments equal to the number of sand
Particles, this earth is having.
I can wait for her, through ages
Equivalent to the distance, from here to your place.

If she ever imbibes a drop of the nectar
Brewed with my love, and its passion,
That I am keeping for her, as pure as a drop of dew,
It will expand and swell into an ocean inside her.
That will never dry up, but enliven
Her through births and rebirths through eons.

Unheard melodies…

You brought a tambourine of a rainbow,
To accompany my songs, while I sing;
And stood by my side like a blossom of sweetness.
With same dreams, and same splendour and opulence.
Same longing and yearning;
The mind becomes a tidal wave of insatiate
Passion lying dormant, hitherto.

My beloved! I am seeking the nectar amidst
The petals of the blue lotus
Where your countenance blooms;
Let your sweetness sprinkle on my life,
And souse me, to adorn over my thoughts.
I diffuse in the caresses you anoint in me.
I glimpse the gold fish swimming in your eyes,
The pale moonlight in your smoothening words;
Your mind is the confluence of all rhythms, and
As I taste the heavenly nectar of the gods in the notes
Of your tambourine, when you play on it,
I turn to become a tender sprout of the spring.

Magic potion!

Love is a munificent emotional state
Of the soul, in unison with another.
Love between a man and woman
Is a tender emotion flowing through the mind
And will persist so long as this world exists.

Its musical resonance in the heart
Turns anyone to worship that sentiment.
It enslaves the minds, with the radiance
Of the sweet smile, lurking on the lips.
I saw that fond smile once
Turning everyone into a somnambulist,
With its spell and sorcery;
Create a thousand heavens and gift them
With the goblet in its hand, sparkling with love potion.
I heard that invocation of spell.
I saw that ensnaring chalice.
Come, it is for you to imbibe!

Reveries!

Reveries, memories, recollections,
Reminiscences, of the bygone days;
Shivering, cracking, and shattering
On the shores, of the solitary mind.
Impossible and infeasible is the attempt,
To forget a face, once seen and clasped
With the tender fingers in affection.
It keeps on appearing on the screen,
Projected in high resolution and sharp.

Misery is a lonely wanderer, and I am
Invited with the blaring of its trumpet.
Golden dreams took leave of me and left,
Yielding place to turbulent despondency.
Passions aspiring to disseminate,
Are like evergreen climbers,
Endeavoring to reach heaven,
Gradually through seasons, and
Dry up wilted in the summer heat!

PEN PUSHERS…

Illiterate quill and soul, without insight
Once wrote a book, lacking in its conscience.
Tears and smiles, love and frustrations,
Melodrama and myths were packed inside.
A flamboyant cover, depicting the body language
Of voluptuous beauties adorned the front.
Sex and violence, sex orgies and sex abuses,
Gays and lesbians were the heroes and heroines.
Ample writes up, in vintage magazines
Carried curtain raisers for the launching
Of the book, by the renowned publisher.
First edition sold like hot cakes and
Print orders for two more editions
Were at hand; all went well…



Later I met ‘him’ at a wayside book shop
Prowling among the book racks.
A corpse, devoid of the glamour, once he had;
Time changed and new beauties outwitted him.
Tastes of the populace changed and he could not
Write what is demanded, and lost in the battle.
The publisher made a fortune, splitting awards
And prize money with the author.
Now he is discarded! No fanfare!
No more impressive reviews!
It died a natural death, with the author.

Wayfarers…

Who owns the wayside inn, where we find our refuge?
What do we lose when we leave, to cry over a loss?
We meet to share the path for sometime
And then walk away into two directions!

Is birth the preface of grief?
Is death a curtain for dreams?
Birth and death joined together
As life, is just an infatuation, a fallacy!

A rainbow as flowers of smile, blooms
Always, among the clouds, of distress and despair.
A wayfarer will say that he is unable to forget anything,
Just as the path will say that he dare not die;
And it gives its chest for the footfalls to
Traverse on it, throughout day and night.
Died yesterday; born today and the path
Keeps and protects always the wayfarers.
Unobtrusive, unknowing we walk on…

End of an epoch…

Here in this path, in this shade of the tree
We will bid farewell, not to meet again.
We will part here the same way
We first met together at this spot.
The ever cherished sweet dreams
Even if, upon the funeral pyre
May soar up, as unsated passions.
The magnificent images etched in the mind
Would appear again, even if they are wiped away
With the tears, emanating from the soul.

Do you remember the sweet
Promises we exchanged,
Under the shade of this old rain tree?
May be the branches of that tree, while smiling
Again under the embrace of the dew drops of the autumn,
Could remember, those ravishing enticements, now.
May be the laughing and playing ripples of that river
Could envisage the past scenarios, we enacted
On its banks, and remember how your veil was
Torn, while kissing you for the first time
Watching the sunset, sitting in the golden sand…

Of human affinities!

Affinity! Affinity of love
Undulating mental bonds!
Always on the trail, following our life…
Infinite, boundless and endless
Magnetic waves, surpassing birth and deaths;
Encompassing all sentiments and emotions,
Sometimes trespassing on the values of life;
Meeting, and then separating with a yearning
And longing in the soul, to meet again.

We are lone travelers, born as orphans at our birth,
Seeking a wayside inn to rest, in this travail.
Even our meaningless dreams we shared
Are so sacred, hallowed, and devoted;
We identify that and recognize each other by the
Fragrance of our soul, through every re-births.
We are so pure and innocent in our souls,
And that bestow the dexterity to acknowledge them.

Love stories…

All love stories are similar to each other;
The eternal triangle; divine; celestial, tragic,
Sometimes, comical and frustrating too.
Same characteristics, same culmination,
Right from the inception of this universe!
In this terrain when the chariots of heaven
Dislodge the light and darkness
On the rugged landscape of the earth,
There flow the tears of the heroines of
These stories as streams, resembling each other.
In this dismal gloominess of desolation,
There arise and bloom flowers of poetry
Of the same caliber, and tinge;
With the same pathos and disdain,
Of dreadful afflictions and anguish;
Of the disastrous culmination of a tender emotion!
Universal, yet very personal and adhering to the soul!
Trampling over the hearts of humans, lhe road roller of time
Moves on, stamping and pulverizing to naught..

Futile birth…

Could it be possible for the vanished dusk to
Appear again in a rebirth into this earth,
Where the flamboyance danced earlier?
The wick in the lamp looks as a flame
Of a flower, so bright and splendid
That has bloomed in the anguish of parting.

I am waiting for your return, with sadness
Filling the heart, like the monsoon flood;
Fondling the soft feather of vivid
Memories, in the realm of my reveries.
I hear the footfalls of the seasons
Passing one after another, reaching
My ears, faintly in my delirium.,
Pots of moments shatter and crackle down,
Melt and disappear into the earth like rain water.

Why am I sitting atop the coral island, on an iceberg?
That dissolves into the ocean, senseless,
And ignorant of my futile birth.

Forsaken…Forlorn…

An ocean in the eyes
Sweet solace in the words,
Sad disposition in the mind,
Like a wandering nightingale in the dark.
Did the smoldering heart
Emanate a melancholic dirge from the lips?

You were a delectation that was never allowed
To be enfolded in my heart, hitherto.
And now you have become an ember ablaze
Of a dream I have been weaving all my years,
Inside me, imprecating my very existence.
My love has turned to be a tune jotted on the soul,
At an inopportune moment of desolation.
You are a sad melody flowing in the mind
As a dissonance, and my heart is made
To be as an earthen lute left out and unclaimed
In the wilderness, by someone.

Foiled dreams…

Once you came into my life as a florid dream;
One day you left, bidding goodnight from me,
Like the notes of a melody fading gradually,
As the reverberation of a tuning fork;
Tell me whither you went!

You came as a song and vanished like silence,
Albeit, you cannot disappear from my reminiscence.
Are you departing my prima Dona,
When the spring sky has blossomed in its bluish tinge?

Who is crying in this dreary night
Breaking the lassitude, faintly in obscurity?
You came as a fragrance engrossed
In love, into my life’s unfrequented path,
To accompany me, rubbing shoulders all the way;
And became my alter ego and heart throb.
Who is wailing in the wake of this midnight,
While the milky moonlight is languishing,
Like the cry of a wild cockatoo?
As the sky calls out its beloved earth,
Like the starlets invite the clouds,
With their winking and shimmering eyes.
‘Come my beloved’…

Vanishing fairy…

Could it be the heaven descending to this terra firma?
Could it be a dream, spreading
Its flamboyant plumes, in reality?
Or all gorgeous creations of God
Have diffused together to form
The image of a woman, in real life,
And appearing as one entity incarnated?

The blooms dance in mirth when the honey
Beetle hovers over them, with lust in their hearts.
And miles of smiles rollick in their lips.
I am gliding in the frenzy of an inebriety
Aimlessly, without the knowledge of my body and mind.
Clouds that tranquil the lofty hills in their laps,
Embrace and hug the clouds for their fragrance.
Come my beloved, floating over the chilly ripples,
To my side and enfold me in your love!

Adieu…

There is no dispensation for love,
To a maiden who is entitled only
For a mound of earth in the end as her grave
For her eternal rest, and no rights allowed
To have even dreams, while alone.
My heart has turned into a book
Already eaten by white ants,
And could become dust any time.

When I say farewell, I have only
One memento left in me.
To give you, when I bid farewell at last;
A mind dried up of dreams, and,
A soul made destitute.
There are thousands of meaningful meanings
In the words, we have kept unsaid.
I am carrying the stinking rags of dreams
Which we shared unknowingly through withered
Lonely desolate nights and silent moments;
Carrying it like grey and pale dreams.

What is left undone is the slaughter of those
Dreams and I have to undertake that
And lay a wreath on it.
And we both part our ways in two directions
Without saying any more words!
Adieu…

Forsaken!

While I was watching you going away

I felt my world becoming futile,

And empty, and I am made an orphan.

I felt my love is embedded in those flowers

You have discarded after sniffing them;

And there is no one beside me to serve

A little love on a platter, for me to imbibe.

And my conjecture has become true as I imagined!