Attires...

Births…Attires….
It takes only few moments
To change the attires, we are adorning.
We are playing a game of attires,
Disguises, without any premonitions,
Without any screen play.
A dress for mourning; a dress for joy;
We are enacting a shadow play
All the time of our life, inadvertently.

When the sky weeps, and the spring disappear,
The winter laughs, without telling anyone,
Without knowing anything, innocently
It crosses the sands of time;
And the full moon is yet to come,
To show its elegance and verve.

Where is the refuge in this dense jungle?
In the night of torrential rain, and darkness.
Are we not wandering aimlessly
Having lost our way, in these mythical hours?
When we change this attire and adorn another one
Does our insight and inner eye overwhelm with tears?
When one dream fade out and another unfold
Do we laugh or weep at that time?
Where is virtue; where is truth?
What is the next attire? Which is the act and stage?
Where is a shelter in this highway?
Is the curtain being raised for the shadow play
To commence again in the life?

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!