Creations…

Here the breeze carries a divine fragrance.
The spring has come this way already,
In a chariot of tender sprouts and leaves
And the maidens in-waiting were those
Of dainty dreams and sublime memories.

Why the flowery season could not linger here,
And halt the chariot here for a while?
It could not give me even a tiny blossom
As a gift, to recollect its radiance again.
And now you have become another
Blooming season, like spring in my life.

The ocean is roaring with its waves.
Who sowed the stones of beryl in its froth?
May be, the heavenly musicians have done that.
Never throw your pearls of laughter in the
Stream of tears, of your lonely nights.
Those musicians also got away, after
Closing the eyes of the mind.
Now, you have become an exquisite beryl
In my mind, dazzling in your love.

Those bluish eyes are the blossoms of the heart,
And I have become the apple of those eyes.
How charming is the splendour of youth!
And your emotions are a hundred times
Prettier than any petite things on this earth.
The creator ought to have given eyes of the soul,
To the smiling lilac, and the winged pangs of the mind.
But then, you have become the creator of love in me…

Wistful memoirs...

Like an enchanting gift,
The changing season has endowed;
Like the blossoming of a thrill,
Enriched by a sweet embrace;
You unfolded as a poem on the alluring
Tender branches of my first love, when we both
Started, dreaming of the mysteries of love..

I sought you, my first love, forgetting everything
Around me, fluttering like a wild butterfly,
All over places and time, in and out;
I liquefy myself into you, through the spell
Of your honeyed seductive smiles,
And turned into a swan wading in the pools of heaven,
To become a flamingo with resplendent plumes;
Like the full moon traversing, among the silvery clouds.

The day when you tried to bid farewell to me,
Wilted by the stinging distress in your mind;
Our dreams shattered, its wings clipped off
Into smithereens, scattering into silence,
All the emotions rancid, and mortified..
And my mind whispers mutely;
“All good wishes for a happy married life.

SOULS…

Why are you queuing up and rushing to come down?
Rushing up to get impregnated
You, unfortunate souls?
Can’t you just reckon with the fearsome explosion of
Population in this earth and
Those starving, uncouth skeletons
Striving to snatch a piece of bread
From somewhere.
What makes you to rush to this dreary place?
No matter what type of pregnancy:in vitro,or clone,
Which vagina,or test tube, you just crave to be born here.
Are you not happy there or just suffocating?
Millions and millions are born here each minute.
We are starving here and trying to end our life,
Everyday, in a noose made from a sari,
In an isolated well, or a pond, or on a rail track
To escape from here, to reach your place.
And also trying to prevent your coming here,
Closing your path to earth through use of
Pills, condoms, sheaths, diaphragms, and many
Contraceptives; we carefully plans safe periods;
Try to become misogynist, sages, chronic bachelors.
Yet you break all barriers, and crash those dams in a fury,
Frighteningly swallowing all our efforts.
What is wrong with you, when you are there?
You will find only hell waiting for you here.
Why are you queuing up there to come down in a hurry?
You unfortunate souls!