A sort of a dream...

Is Truth, a thing which has to be sought?
Trailing through lengthy, complicated
And mysterious paths, and thus discovered?

The truth is, it is found by treading through
True straight paths and the paths are of Truth.
No need to waste time and energy to find the
Turnings, the pitfalls, the hillocks and hollows
In the road, leading to the Truth.
Travel the straight, broad road and
It will lead to truth and Truth alone;
Because that road, terminates there only

Why the populace of the earth can’t conceive
And adopt it, in their quest for Truth?
Get rid of your doubts; let your mind
Become clear as a crystal, as the placid water.
No mud or moss should obliterate it.
Undulated, purified eyes, looking straight.
Walking straight and steadily, both hands extended.
After a while, Truth will takeover and reach you
In a state of eternal bliss; a state of resilience!
You will find your hands filled with flowers of
Love, permeating heavenly fragrance;
And when you move with that love,
It will transform you as Truth.
TRUTH incarnated!

Your attire should be of humility.
You will see that all creations
Dance before you in intense pleasure!
Fragrance of love emanate from you;
Greed will fall and die before you;
Wings of egotism will wither down;
Jealousy will flee away and then you realize
You have reached the Kingdom of Truth.

.

Unknown lover…

Time is an unknown lover, and
Life, his sweet beloved.
Yielding dreams and tears,
Embrace and kiss, adore and hug,
And then discard like an unwanted treasure...
Will make beautiful gardens among the sky
Build a mansion inside that garden,
Will cherish and foster children of love,
And at last drown us in the pyre of grief.
Alas! Such is the amazing kinds of dreams!

It will display unseen heavens and then
Take us for a delightful joy ride
In a chariot of gold through the sky;
With a lullaby will soothe you and lead
You to a slumber quietly with
The most excellent music on earth.
Then land in a forlorn desert and
Abandon you there to die and become rancid.
Alas! Relationships entangles in such a way!

DO I KNOW YOU?

The light has disappeared from my world;
I have become the wearied shadow of a man,
Fell down like a shadow without limbs,
Melting into the darkness of the dingy night.

Does a shadow pulsate in rhythm, any time?
Does the shadow have a heart which throbs?
If not, which artery is holding the flame of
The grief in my heart, and its recollections?
Or is that possible for memories to die;
Or ripples in a lake to cease to a standstill?

Do we have a life after death?
A rebirth for a soul; again in this earth?
If there is, would that resurgent light recognize,
Each other and the relation of its last birth?
So, who is the youngest and who is
The eldest person, in this world?
Time has no relevance in ascertaining it!

Accomplishment!

You came to me and I found the pining of
Unrequited love in your eyes..
My sweet heart! When did we initially meet in our life?
In which birth, in which dusk of the aeons;
Where did we see each other first time, in life?

Generations walked through these streets,
Laughing and crying, kicking these earth,
Making it muddy and turbid, for a long time.
Our treads which were imprinted there, were
Covered with dust and mud, and our memories also
Submersed in it, for long, quite invisible to us.
If we forget each other for ever and our paths
Have never crossed again to meet,
What could have been our unimaginable destiny?

Our love began to bud, in our childhood days.
We kept nourishing the flame, until those ill-fated hours,
When, like a typhoon, the fate swept away
The ravishing flowers of that adoration,
Into different distant lands, and we lost touch.

Once again, if we have not met in our life,
If we have not recognized each other,
After all these years, in our transformed looks,
We should have been carrying in our hearts,
The remorseful regrets, of our unfulfilled dreams, eternally.

Fragrance…

How great will be the dreams
Of these jasmine flowers?
Which carry so much of
Munificent fragrance in it.
How charming will they be
In the glow of the evening sun,
When the sky unfurls its
Seductive smiles at them?
The dreams of those flowers
Will be smooth and softer
Than the smoothness of
The flower itself.
It will be glossy than the silky
Threads of the moonlight
Dripping from up above .

I share all the secrets in my soul,
With my ever delicate dreams.
That is the perfume of love
Spreading inside my mind,
Without, my awareness.
Does the flower ever
Know of its fragrance!

MAN! What a beautiful…

“’MAN’! What a beautiful word” sang someone;
Like the knell of a bell, wafting through the air,
Sounding, like a death knoll, in its vibration…

Here that man is scattered in the air, like a
Sun-depleted dry leaf wandering everywhere.
Just a dry leaf in the air!.
He turns to break and churn the earth for his bread;
Become a firewood and burn at the end.
Burn like a sandal wood piece on the pyre!
He writes a tragic tale, sitting in the dark corners,
As a dark shadow, in the summer heat
Which spreads, through his sinews,
And exhaust him to weariness.
As a bird shuddering and writhing in pain;
Like a tidal wave carrying grief and sweep him away.

The tear dried eyes search around,
Looking out for a saviour, to rescue him
From this chasm, and put him back on his feet again.
Toiling , starving, foiling, with lost hopes,
Hoping against hopes, waiting for a resurrection
And rescue; to live without miseries.

Hyenas of organized religion set bait for him.
They coax him sweetly, with promises of a heaven,
Free of dismay and despondency, but of happiness.
Now he finds his redeemer- the religion.
Now he finds his saviour- the god man.
Hypocrite, wolf in the attire of sheep.
What more is required for self fulfillment?
Happy he is, now!

So long…

The crescent moon has disappeared into
The pale light, of the Milky Way.
It loomed as an indistinct shadow around.
A tragic lassitude in tears remained in the distance
With a sword, and the tumult of thunder nearby.
The nightingale sang a tune in melancholy.
Like a rose, the memories of past life
Was lying in the lap of the mind.
In a night when the stars were in slumber,
When the midnight koel was humming,
I was standing outside your window
In the hope of seeing, your charming image.
Alone I waited and waited till the early dawn
And in despair, for not even hearing your treads,
I retreated with dismay in the heart.
You have drifted away from me into
A strange and motley domain;
Leaving me in the murk, to grope,
Where no stars shine; no beacon to direct.
I did spread my dreams under your feet,
And you tread on my dreams so harshly.
How many desires we wanted to hatch out?
How many dreams, we aspire will bloom?
Not even one desire could bloom;
Not a spike of grain could we harvest;
When can I hope to see you again
In this world of gloom, you have made for me?

So long…

The crescent moon has disappeared into
The pale light, of the Milky Way.
It loomed as an indistinct shadow around.
A tragic lassitude in tears remained in the distance
With a sword, and the tumult of thunder nearby.
The nightingale sang a tune in melancholy.
Like a rose, the memories of past life
Was lying in the lap of the mind.
In a night when the stars were in slumber,
When the midnight koel was humming,
I was standing outside your window
In the hope of seeing, your charming image.
Alone I waited and waited till the early dawn
And in despair,of not even hearing your treads,
I retreated with dismay in the heart.
You have drifted away from me into
A strange and motley domain;
Leaving me in the murk, to grope,
Where no stars shine; no beacon to direct.
I did spread my dreams under your feet,
And you tread on them so harshly.
How many desires we wanted to hatch out?
How many dreams, we aspire will bloom?
Not even one desire could bloom;
Not a spike of grain could we harvest;
When can I hope to see you again
In this world of gloom, you have made for me?

Love…Erotica.

The quill that wrote the treatise of Erotic Love (Kama sutra)
Of the great sage, has become, the letters of a mystic spell,
In the quiver of the human heart;
And the arrows of Cupid!

Was it perpetrated, to awaken the human soul,
From its blessed meditation and penance practiced?
Or to rectify, his innate instincts, and to spoil its rhythm?
Or to hunt for the beauty of the age, enveloped in illusion?
Or to change the sweet and divine love
In the heart of the human beings, into
Lasciviousness and libido, to make it
Abhorrent, and repulsive?

The sage only meant of honoured
Practices among spouses
At propitious times, days, and seasons.
But as ages progressed, it became
A method for experiments and researches
To test, if those written words are pragmatic.
And Eros vanished long back!

The Way…

In the land where the doctrine of Non- Duality
Of God, originated, and its profounder was born,
There are now, a thousand gods, thousand castes,
And a thousand religions, headed by god men;
Sprouting like mushrooms, in the rainy season.

Some religions are established, and then expire also;
Soon after, their founder passes away, and into oblivion.
And established religions plunder and pilfer
The conscience and the wealth, of the loyal simpletons,
Through coercion and fraud, promising heaven to them.

Man has only, one path to follow, any time;
The way to eternal love, and quest for truth.
The day has only one lamp, that gives light for all,
Yet, the night can enjoy a dream of light, only
By kindling, the lamps of myriad stars.
Who can see the light of those stars
When the sun shines and spreads its radiance?

Stone Age!

Every piece of stone had wings,
Long, long ago, in the Stone Age.
Dreams clad in anklets also
Were having their own tiny wings.
Leaves used to fly, like dreams
And the earth was in the prime of youth.

Flowers became fairies in splendour,
And rivers became beloveds;
Butterflies used to love the blossoms
And waves loved the streams.
The paramour worshipped the beloved earth
Who was the flower of the flowers
And the river of the rivers.

There came a day, when the wings of the stones
Were hacked away, by the jealous Creator.
Thus the flowers were forsaken
And the streams grief stricken...
They are, the dreary tears of the stones
In desolation, that flows out through streams,
Striving, to reach the river, at last.
The flowers still keep vigil from dawn to dusk;
For the butterflies to come and embrace them,
And take away the nectar, through the kiss of a lover.

Prisoner…

What is that which makes you a prisoner?
Not the iron shackles on your hands,
Not the ropes which binds you tight,
Not the wooden cage you live in;
But the comforts you discover through gold and wealth,
And with the women and children you possess.
That makes you a prisoner and convict!

They are very smooth chains, yet they bind you
Like the Lilliputian’s on Gulliver.
Is it possible to break these chains?
And escape from the alluring charms of life?
Comforts, repose, desires, lust, greed, avarice,
Jealousy, selfishness, ego, violence and malice.
We play with them in life, in our imagination.
They will sweep us away, in the torrent,
Spreading, in all directions of our life.
We float above the flood, through lives
And generations, through ages.
A prisoner sentenced to life!
We live under the spell of these images.
We hate to accept them as dreams;
But continue sleeping in its comforts.

Prayer…

PRAYER! A practice of addressing God
In words or through meditation, as in praise
Of gratitude, sorrow, or intercession.
A god is required for this purpose.
When God is a creation of ignorant people
What is the relevance of a god, for such a motive?

As an individual, He does not exist.
No creator, as creation is eternal.
Godliness only, but no god.
That godliness permeates and brims over
All visible and invisible things,
That exists in the universe.
Open your eyes widely.
Find it around you, and inside you.
In the grass, in a worm, in a flower,
In the nature, sky, ocean, universe…
That is the substance of all scriptures.
“I am the creator and the creation”.
*('Aham Brahmasmi'...'Anal Huq')
[Aham Brahmasmi|अहम् ब्रह्मास्मि
"I am the Brahman"]

Prayer is impossible, as there is no one
At the receiving end;
No individual we can call God,
With the qualities we attribute
In our ignorance, to make an
unwarranted exercise...A prayer!

A god who get pleased and happy
When you praise him,
And a god who lose his temper
And is displeased, trying to annihilate you,
While you censure him!
It's an unintelligible phenomenon

LIFE… An Epic.

Life is a book of epic!
Where are the pages to write the accounts?
Who gave this precious book,
And kept it open in front of the humans?
And kindled a lamp called life
For him to read at his will,
And forget himself and live?

Enjoy each sentence in this epic.
It is embedded with exultation
And delight; vibrant with passion.
And love and lust, ravished by charms.
The lamp may extinguish to day or
Tomorrow, then there will be utter darkness,
The book will be illegible and fade away.

Idiots try to write accounts in its pages.
They add and subtract continuously.
But finally, all additions and subtractions
Turns to be erroneous, and faulty….

My angel…

Tell me your tales, my sweetest bloom of love
Afloat in the lagoon of my lone heart.
Drops of sadness lurks in your lashes
Of half closed eyes as in an oyster...
Aren’t you the droplet of my dreams,
The gorgeous heroine of my still unpainted saga?
You came yesterday, as a devotee
To the hermitage of my love.

How many evening have liquefied
To brush your cheeks so pink.
Making it to blush and flush?
How much depth of bluishness from its heart,
The ocean has embellished in your eyes?
You have never known the passage of time
Of rains, of summer, of springs, and sunshine.
A fairy in sleep, underneath the canopy of Deodars
Of heaven, where the gods relax.
Whose golden chariot you are
Mounting in your thoughts?
Whose love you are seeking now, in your mind?
Your fragrance pervade around here
As the scent, of the flower in the breeze….

Heavens

We grieve for riches, our hearts break for beloveds;
Desolate on account of blindness;
Distressed in having, sight and vision.
Life as a whole is always wrenched in agony...

Those who envision a heaven, in a place beyond
This earth, and aspiring to reach there,
Fleeing from all earthbound woes,
Are fondling, a will of the wisp – alluring and delusive.
Realize now, that in here is the heaven and the hell.
Experience both in this world, in a life time,.

New York or Paris; Jesus or Krishna.
The prophet or Jehovah is all equal to a blind.
Those who believe that God is overseeing everything,
Are holding such a faith, in their stupidity.
Behold both God and Satan, in here itself.
Both are thriving on the faith of followers.
They have domiciled in this earth now and
Abound by believers and worshippers;
Proving that earth is a better place, than Heaven!

A fairy!

She casts a spell while walking around.
The earth vibrates with pleasure when she
Puts her treads on the velvety grass and
That thrill causes the flowers to bloom...
When that happens, the soul of the thorns
Rejoices, and change into blossoms.
The nature strings them together
To make a garland and adorn them,
And a marvelous garden is created…

The sky and earth pay tribute to her seductiveness,
As she affix the seven colours of her charm,
Pouring over the rainbow, to make it alluring.
When she smiles, pearls scatter all around.
And those precious pearls transforms into
Resplendent stars, spangling the firmament.
When that happens and hits the core of
The heart, each day become a charming night,
With dazzling stars studded on the bluish veil.
She is my beloved, waiting for me
Far away in my land of sweet dreams...
.

Death…

Death is not an event, which waits for
Anyone, to attain seventy, or eighty.
Along with the moment of the first cry
Announcing your arrival into this world
We kick start the indicator of time, to get moving.

We are an isle surrounded by death.
We can complete or fulfill naught.
Even our love life will not be complete.
The sword of Damocles is hanging above our head.
In death, do we enter a timeless, space less tunnel?

When thoughts, desires, consciousness freeze,
When thoughts become stills on the screen of the mind,
Time also vanish along with it,
The screen becomes a blank,
The projector of the mind stands still.
A spark emerges like a drop, into our being
Into our silence, into that eternity,
And we taste the sweetness of the spirit!
That is attainment, freedom from all bondage,
Liberty and divine love!

Wedlock…

A solitary door of the mind,
The charming door of memories
Of the erstwhile life, obsessed
Always with grief, if closed;
Always with woes, even if opened.

It’s a poem, written by the heart;
Love’s nectar is its language.
If its meaning is misconceived
If no spelling mistakes, creep up
If omissions and errors, are avoided
It becomes an epic; Matrimony is a mega epic!

Is there a song sung without discord?
Any dances without a faulty step?
Inaccuracy, miscalculation, blunder.
Slip, oversight, delusion, all may occur.
Rhythm may falter, steps may alter,
But the swirl will continue, till the end
When the course is corrected at times,
In the current of the song of life!

Paint the faded pictures of wedlock, with
Ever fresh sparkling colours of endurance;
Like rains and spring seasons wash away
The sins of summer and its debris
As omnipresent Time by its omnipotence.!

Lead kindly light!

Discard your yesterdays
It is gone everlastingly.
If we need to be lead to eternity,
Beyond death, beyond time,
Do not look into the past or future.
It will never come near us.
Do not think, about your tomorrows.

But we always think about our tomorrows
And also life beyond our demise;
About the heavenly bliss, hoping to
Enjoy the abandoned comforts of this world
Forever and ever, interminably.
‘Do not use alcoholic drinks’.
‘Woman is the gateway to hell.’
The religion teaches us so many ’Don’ts’.
Heaven forbids all such pleasures in life,
And guarantees them, when you reach there
To enjoy, boundlessly, and without restriction.
A licentious life in all its meaning!
But all happiness, and enjoyment is
Out of bounds in this life.
What an irony! Idiosyncrasy!

And here we abdicate, and forsake
All the natural desires of spirit,
Fasting, penance, worship, self immolation,
Struggling and striving to attain salvation,
In the hope of enjoying them, in a thousand fold
When we reach the sanctified abode they call ‘HEAVEN’….

Cowards…

Welfare State, Republic, Parliamentary Democracy,
Equality, Liberty, Human Rights, Judiciary
Without blemish, Fourth Estate,
And, Freedom of Expression…
All are high sounding ideas and mottos.
Yet, human beings are sold as slaves,
Exported from country to countries,
Submitted for menial jobs and bonded labour.
The stench of white slavery permeates all over.

Juvenile girls, sold as slaves through
Established offices of religion, compelled
To undertakes religious oaths, in the guise
They are needed for the service of God.
To become concubines of the rich, and the clergy,
Prostitutes to work in parlours, homes for the sick,
And aged, as nursing maids, and women of pleasures.
Coffers of the ‘Charitable Trusts’, and missions;
The Purveyors of such human commodities
Are filling up with wealth, through such criminal deeds.

Such rackets exists, always in motion and alert;
Ransack, exploit and extort.
We remain as passive observers, and
Mute spectators, afraid to react or respond.
Unable to deprecate, or exhort.
Are we cowards? Frightened to lift a finger
Against the hierarchy, and its manipulations?

A dog will keep on barking, even when frightened;
Are we worse than these canines?

Twinkle little stars…

‘Twinkle, twinkle, little stars,
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high
Like a diamond in the sky’
So is the rhyme, we heard from Grandma.
Through generations, again
And again it is remembered.

A few decades, and too much waters flowed
Under the bridge, and we are so changed.
These lines are still glued to our lips
Then the scenario has changed drastically.
No stars glitter in the sky!
No milky way flows in the heaven!
No moonlight caresses the nature!
No lovers meet under the starry sky
Or under the serene moonlight!
No romantic feelings aroused by nature
With its magnificent charms, and tantalizing blues!

Artificial lights and sodium vapour lamps
Illumines the sky; devouring the natural lights.
Blue sky has changed to smog, and utter darkness
Prevails from dusk to dawn; twilight to twilight.
In the midst, populace crawls
Like worms, to earn their livelihood.

Skyscrapers hamper the sunlight reaching the streets;
Traffic jams, crowded pavements....
No one desires to have a glimpse of natural light.
The Pole star, the Scorpio, Betelgeuse
The waning moon, the luster of the rainbow,
Floating white fleeces of clouds, flocks of migratory birds,
An occasional lightning, a thundershower.
All are becoming alien scenes in urban life,
While people compete in the rat race
And watch shadows of these, in their idiot box..

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!

Vainglory!

Movement…Progress…Motion!
They are the dictums of evolution
For human life! A maxim.
The sages who wrote scriptures and epics,
Envisaged life, as vanity, and illusion.
Man who created this era says life is truth.
What we see and comprehend is truth and reality...
Dreams have a path, of its own
Truth has its different path.
And Time blindfolds both and flow in its own way.
Where do they confluence?
Any place they commence flowing together as one?
May be in heaven, where everything is real!
Is life a myth or reality?
A reality existing for a short moment,
On the scale, of the boundless time.

Once it is over what is left out?
Wealth?
Memory?
Prestige?
Reputation?
Glory?

None of these has eternal values!
Hence sages of old times recited about
The emptiness, unintelligibility,
Futility and hollowness of life
In their writings, for the posterity.
Yet, man is still running after vainglory!

Honeymooning!

“Why are you teasing me before
I finish narrating to you, my maidens?”

“When it was dusk, didn’t you takeover
The splendour of the sky into your countenance,
Thinking of a sensual, sleepless night?”

“Didn’t the bangles, dingle like bells peeling,
At midnight, when you blew off the small lamp,
In the flower bedecked chamber, before sleeping?”

“Didn’t a rainbow glisten on your timid cheeks,
When the door of the bedchamber was closed?”

“Didn’t you reprimand and censure the rooster,
When it crowed early in the morning?”

“Come on my friends, this time is precious.
We can not afford to waste it, with our empty words.
This is a delightful time, fragrant with sweet passions,
Of an ever remembered, night of honeymoon.
The spring has arrived, can’t you just hear
The impassioned moments, calling you?”

“I know, if I keep tight lipped, you will make me,
Tell you everything that happened, with me;
And once I tell you, you will start taunting me!
Impossible to spend my hours with you like this,
I am baffled and fed up, my dearest friends.”…

Yester night…

In the middle of a sullen night
The memory of yester night
Vanquished, the avid soul.
And the singing heart is asking me
The scenario and the screen play!
You came as a shimmering glimmer
Of a resplendent cloud, in my dream...
Some reveries, to pour nectar into my spirit.
When you roam, in my reveries, heaven arise
And stoop down to earth, with presents
Of bouquets of blossoms, brought from
A vanished spring, seasons behind.
Like the virtue of my sacred deeds in life;
Intimate moments, churns out ripples in the thoughts,
Chalice of the heart brims with sweetness.
Cloying spring was visible in the dreamy eyelids,
Where, swooned fantasies dangled, quivering.

Those days when love sprouted in our hearts
We forgot ourselves in the frenzy,
We could not contain inside us,
The unreconciled, youngish vigour.
There was only one horizon for us; our desires!
If once you smile, it becomes showers of kisses
In my reminiscence, and in my dreams.
And we share together one passion,
One desire, one aspiration,
And only one ambition…

Time

Life is a flaming ocean, and desires are
Floating in there, at times delving into
Depths and again, surfacing with the froths.

Grief is a point in life.
Happiness another one
Life swings as a pendulum between
Theses two points, in despair and joy
That is Life…A pendulum.

Inception, in cries and tears
Then grows and develops, a big smile
Enveloped in happiness and mirth;
Beguiled by the crafty world;
Returns to tears and grief, at last.
This is the throbbing music of the clock,
The song of the life forces of the universe,
Measuring time and the hands mortify.
Yet time will flow on…

It unfurls ingenuity in the soul.
Radiates, a thousand magnificent hues, in mind.
Passions transform to bright stars in the hearts,
Turns later, to become ‘Black Holes’ in the Milky Way
The dawn greets you, with smiles
The dusk flushes you with splendor
Yet earth will still rotate, on its axis…

Eternal…

Your memory still haunts, and smiles in my mind,
As a garland, of rainbow on the neck of
Sodden clouds, impatient to shed its attire.

You the me, and me the you
We were born in places far apart.
Like the driftwood close in, on the shores,
We floated in the ocean, of populace.
And one day drifted close, as strangers…

Autumn:
Formal nodding, perfunctory greetings,
Shallow smiles, casual accosting;
Sharing a joke, mutual treats
Like a thirsty fish, in the ocean…

Season changes;
Summer.
A little walk, a little talk,
A magnificent obsession.
A willing miss, a stolen kiss.
Exchange of gifts, words of appreciation;
A phone call, just before going to sleep.
Bid good night and sweet dreams...

Spring. With all its blessings.

Close encounters of the third kind.
We understood, we are made for each other.
We dream together, we imagine alike.
Our desires are similar, like our aspirations.
We resolve to become one.
We dissolve and become one.
Our target attained;here,
Our search for each other ended.

What is this miracle, of destiny?
Souls wandering through eternity;
Seeking always, for its lost mate.
Once found they unite in life
In passion, and love and bliss.
And boundless immortality...

A Porter’s Rest…

A Porter's Rest...

You will find a porter’s rest, still in remote villages;
Reminding you, of the Stonehenge of Britain.
A thing of the past on which you put down the load
On your head, take rest, reload and proceed.
Among humans also, you will find porter’s rest.
You download your grief for a while
Take relief, console, and carry again on your lonely paths.
The moments you took rest are so precious;
It lingers in your memory, for a long time.
The fragrance accompanies you, in your long journey
To the market place, the grave,
Where you barter your burden, you carried till there,
For an after life... you imagine will be eternal rest.

Though lifeless, the image assume life and shape
Of humans, you conspire, you love, you believe,
Take them as your companion in your sojourn,
Adore, embrace, become one, and share
The burden between the two.
The yoke becomes light; the burden turns to flowers,
Its fragrance emanates throughout your life,
And becomes, a boundless bliss.
A friend, a beloved; the porter’s rest!

Enlightenment…

History was written topsy- turvy.
Myths adapted as corner stones
On the edifice of faith.
Religion fostered myths as scriptures.
Rationale is hired by religions and churches.
God is created in their fancy, and fantasies.
Intellect of humans, are governed by legislation.
Imagination imprisoned by imbeciles.
Power politics sway at the controls.
Human rights are stampeded by cattle,
In the guise, of jurists.
Freedom of thinking is in shackles.
God men/women are amassing and hoarding
Wealth, directing and producing blue films;
Dealing in arms and narcotics,
Exploiting the faithful, through magic,
Miracle healing touch and prayers.

Multitudes are under sedation of scriptures,
Translated, according to their whims.
Religion has truly become, the ‘opium of the people’.
And turned them into puppets; strings in the hands
Of marauders, behind the curtain.

The world is under siege by demons,
At the helm of all affairs; good and bad.
This is the Golden Era of Enlightenment!
Similar to French Revolution, Renaissance
And Second World War!
We talk of global warming, common market,
Ozone layer, nuclear power, and landing on Mars,
When people are leading strife strewn days,
Vitiated morals, and spewing violence;
And people are dying without food and shelter,
Of tsunamis, earth quakes, floods, and hurricanes.
We are progressing! But whither?

Again…

I never knew, you will awake as a new interlude
Again, in my symphony.
You will blossom, as a strain
Of melody, in my heart.
You will fill my mind as
A cloying residue of my memory...
You will flutter and flurry,
As my precious possession in life…

I never knew, the glowing embers
Of my soul will ever extinguish
One day, with your presence;
You will fondle me with your
Chilling feather touch;
You will, with your assuages
Lull me into a slumber.
And become, my priceless treasure.

I never knew, you will emit your
Glow as the glimmer of the full moon,
And my passion will flower.
I and you will deliquesce as one...
You will become mine and mine alone!

Escapade?

Memories throng, like the incessant patter,
Of a rainy night.
Like showers of nectar on to the hull of the soul.
The fading mist; diluted evening glow
Entering, into the gloom of a dreary night.
The dismal wailing of a forlorn bird, in the distance.
All sneaking at the door of my earthen hut,
And getting away, never even uttering
A word of consolation, to me...

Why did you re-emerge, in my dear flute
As a sonata of an amiable daze,
Resonating in my forlorn psyche?
Like the crescent moon, having lost its way
Among the darkened clouds,
You came to me, in compliant diffidence
Shrouded in a veil, in accord, with my
Mute and imposing imagination.

We built our castles with glass and cardboards,
On a shore of the sea, of idle tears.
We coveted to live eternally, beyond time and tides.
Through millenniums; you and me, alone.

My existent being is worthless, except that
I can merely felicitate you, for an enjoyable life;
Sans reminiscence, sans lost aspirations, and yearnings,
Sans rancour, and frustrations.

Enveloped in rapture, I will put a lid,
On top, of all my longings, hitherto cherished.
How many more births and seasons
I will have to greet, in my life?
How far my birth will extend to own you?
I don’t know…

Uncertainty…

This night, these melodies, these festivities,
My angel!, will vanish into thin air..
The dreams we fondle today, will yield to harsh realities.
The mirth we hold on our lips, will fade to whimpers.

It is perfect while it lasts, ecstatic, sweet, and passionate.
Every moment a celebration!
Every night an odyssey, through the shores of
Lascivious pleasures and passions.
Every morning, filled with remembrances
Of plays, enacted in our bedchamber;
Of romantic ardours, sending shock waves
All through the senses, springing sensations;
Soul stirring, bewitching…

Here, in this night, when waves of every vital tissues
Are seeking its mate, for its unison,
This lake immersed in modesty, writes it stories
In poems, in the moonlight, with its toe nails.
Do we have any more secrets between us,
Left out to be narrated, of our amatory tales?

In here the fascinating flowers are blooming,
To weave a veil of moonlight to cover the nakedness
Of the virgin earth, in embrace with the nature,
Do we have any more emotions left out in us
To exchange, at this hour, before I leave you?

THANK YOU!

A big thank you, for
Whatever you have given me…..

The broken piece of pottery you have very
Graciously presented me,
From your unbreakable, sturdy mind,
You keep unblemished.
A tiny fragment of a peacock’s feather, you gave,
Preserved all the while, in your arithmetic book;
For having showed me, a blind alley with crooked
Bends, from the manifold paths of your emotions;
For a prickle, you severed from among the midst
Of lush foliage, flowers and ripened fruits;
Of your thoughts, and handed over to me...

And for a shard of black cloud from
The dreams, blossomed by rainbows,
In your implacable heart….

I am thankful and my mind,
Overwhelms with gratitude.

Longings….

If I could become a dream of golden feathers;
A dream, embraced and kissed by the heaven above,
I would have come with a divine bliss in my spirit
To the hermitage, where you lie, spread eagle.
Every night into your boudoir, on the coach of eiderdown,
Ornate with the choicest flowers of the earth,
And anoint you with celestial fragrance,
Borrowed from the angels of the yonder,
And assuage the coveted longings in you heart….

If I could become the eternal thirst of your soul;
The passions in your reticent imaginations,
I would have poured, the amorous aphrodisiac
Of my soul, in its delirium, on your tenderness,
Capering and prancing before you, every night.

My bard, if I could be a melody, a strain in your lute,
A rhythm, elicited while fondled by your tender fingers,
I would have asked you, flower bedecked nights for me,
When our imaginations and passions might mingle
And merge in unison, become fruitful, and fulfilled
Through the songs, I will ever sing for you…

AEONS

Time and eons in slumber,
Under the ocean of deluge,
Emerged in jubilation,
Awakening from a lengthy sleep.
Its reflections transformed into nature,
Creator and me.
On its rampart above, the aeons are born
And hidden away in oblivion,
Through innumerable millenniums.
Where seasons, are adopted as
Progeny, in the Universe.

And you come, escorted by them, in foursome flanks
Of spring, summer, winter and autumn,
In a chariot, brought from heaven, and bestow
Upon us, with all its magnificence and terrors.
In the confluence of the seasons,
The lamp you light in the firmament on
The Milky Way, diffuse its charms
Into the horizon; fabulous, amazing, and dandy!
Persevering, through boundless equinoxes…
Our existence is nothing but a sound
In an immense ocean of silence, and of time.
Where life and memory are meaningless,
Struggles and happiness are empty bubbles…

Damn...

The divine words of god, was heard
Like the chirping of a bird,
“Here is Man”; “He is my beloved son”….
Man sitting in the Garden of Eden
In paradise, said:” Amen! So be it;
Peace unto you, my God.”

But when he plucked the fruit of
That tree of dreams, the voice
Changed and became harsh,
That of God with discord;
The horrid voice uttered,
“Here is man; I have rehabilitated him,
Into the hell; let him be there.”

In there, the man said:
“Amen; Hallowed be Thy name, Thank you, Creator,
So be it; thank you again.”

And, he started carrying the burden
Of his Eternal despair, and despondency
From that moment.
God shuddered and His eyes
Were inundated by tears;
Man is still trying to wipe away
The tears from His cheeks.
To see a happy smile, on His visage…

Dreams. My fairies!

Dreams, my dreams, you are fairies of paradise.
The world will be an empty void, if you were not here.
Without God, without humans, without angels,
Bereft of the sense of purpose, devoid of life force;
Deficient in imagination, of beauty and creative arts
And permeating fragrance, of flowers.

You are the butterflies, bred and brought up by
Nymphs of the yonder, in the palace, of the blue skies,
Built in sapphire stones, and coming as guests;
As honoured guests, into this barren earth
To shower rapture in our hearts, with nectar.

You are opening the doors of my soul, with out
Me knowing it, and painting your pictures
In empty spaces in there, and creating magnificent
Rainbows, of multitudinous colors;
Dissolving them, in the drops of my tears,
And wiping it away, frequently, intermittently...
.

In wait…

I waited alone in the storm of yester night, and in the rain,
Sitting in the isle, melting every moment,
With all my resources, I kept for you.

I will still wait, in this boiling heat, of the sun
In this evaporating isle of my life,
With my doleful sentiments,
Until you come and rescue me
From drowning in this quandary.

I perceive the countenance of passion.
It is smudged!
I hear the voice of the thirst for love.
It is grueling!
I see the corpse of dreams,
I visualize the hue of grief;
It is all swarthy, and hideous!

Who is standing there in that gloomy loneliness?
Holding a lamp, flickering in the wind,
Cautiously covering the flame without extinction,
Staring beyond the eyeshot into the muddy blue?


Your longings have become wingless butterflies;
A soggy cloud wiping away the rainbow
That you weaved and created in your mind….

Sweet promises!

Life is a cart loaded with burdens;
A cart pushed by God and humans together,
With coughs and puffs and great efforts,
Through the rugged streets, of births and deaths.

How many gods, have dilapidated and broken down?
How many prophesies, withered and fallen down?
Heaven was always an old promise, for the afflicted.
From time immemorial, of Krishna and *Pandavas,
Of Christ and Mohammad, the Prophet,
Forbidden fruit is being prolifically sown,
And reaped in multifolds, over centuries
By religions and god men, through their hype.

We are still carrying the burden through the paths,
Paved in advance, by the cruel destiny,
How many of the humans have fallen down dead?
How many hopes, have wilted and shattered?
How many boulevards, we erected of broken dreams?

Socialism and equality are sweet and ploy
Guarantees for us, even now; a cap worn out of shape...


* The battle of Maha Bharatha (Wikipedia)

Complacency…

Can you hear the whimpering spasm of a flower,
While you pluck and detach it from its stalk?

Or is it a gladdening chuckle, emanating from its throat,
For having attained its goal, in its life?
To adorn, the braids of an alluring maid?
Or the interiors of a chamber in a mansion,
Amid the chillness of its luxury; in an ornate vase.

Unless there is someone to love her
How can a maiden become a goddess?
How can the silence become music,
Unless a maestro, seeks and finds it?
How lamps can spread its radiance,
Without the silver wicks, to wipe away the darkness?
The fresco needs an unwrinkled wall
Smoothened by a craftsman, for the painter
To create his fantasy, into a picture.

Unless you sleep, embracing your sweetheart
How can you achieve a complacent fulfillment?

For laughs only.!..Scripts and scriptures on T-Shirts

SOME PEOPLE ARE ALIVE BECAUSE IT'S ILLEGAL TO KILL THEM.

NO JOB, NO GIRLFRIEND,NO PROBLEM...

NOT ALL MEN ARE FOOLS, SOME STAY BACHELORS.




99 PERCENT OF ALL GIRLS ARE BEAUTIFUL; THE REST ARE IN MY COLLEGE...

I AM NOT 50; IAM 18 WITH 32 YEARS EXPERIENCE...

THIS IS NOT THE LIFE I ORDERED..

WHERE THERE IS A WILL, I WANT TO BE IN IT...

MY JOB IS SECURE..NOBODY WANTS IT...

GROWING OLD IS MANDATORY, GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL...



A JOURNEY OF A 1000 MILES BEGINS WITH CASH ADVANCE...

I CAN GO ALONG WITH ANYTHING AS LONG AS IT GOES MY WAY.

I RESPECT OLD AGE ESPECIALLY IF IT IS BOTTLED.

MILLIONS SAW THAT APPLE FALL, BUT NEWTON WAS THE ONE WHO ASKED WHY????

I DON'T DISCRIMINATE, I HATE EVERYONE.

I WAS BORN INTELLIGENT, EDUCATION RUINED ME.

ALCHOHOL DOES'NT SOLVE ANY PROBLEMS, BUT THEN AGAIN NEITHER DOES MILK.



IN A COUNTRY OF FREE SPEECH, WHY ARE THERE, PHONE BILLS.

I AM BETTER THAN NORMAL, I AM ABNORMAL.

CONSERVE WATER, DRINK BEER.

FASTEST THREE WAYS OF COMMUNICATION
TELEPHONE, TELEVISION. TELL- A WOMAN.

WOMAN ARE THE BEST GIFT TO MAN..... AND I AM THE GREATEST LIAR ON THE EARTH.

I WANTED TO KILL THE HOTTEST PERSON ON EARTH, TILL I REALIZED SUICIDE IS A CRIME.

DON'T FOLLOW ME , I AM ENGAGED.

I AM NOT SELFISH, I JUST WANT EVERYTHING.

BORN 2 PARTY, FORCED 2 STUDY.

I READ THAT SMOKING AND DRINKING DO HARM TO MY HEALTH, SO I QUIT READING.

A peddler…

Some one is trying to play, the mandolin of the mind;
When the deft fingers touch the strings of the heart,
A tone suppressed in tears, emanate from its haggard look.
And the staggering mind is retreating…Forsaken dusk!

Even the waxy moonlight appears to you as the burning summer.
And, spectacular vistas of spring, as sad rainy days.
The woeful heart, in an impeded wobble, tick feebly.
You became a singing bird, with wounded wings,
Flying queasy, through the gloom.

The bangles of the wind ceased to tinkle, and
Spring diverted its path, evading to brush
Mascara on her delightful eyelashes.
Unattained aspirations, wept in the chariot of rainbows.
Through millions of rebirths, we have been seeking
Frantically, for each other, and still our desires are unquenched.
Are you now a peddler, selling dreams and tears to me?

Melody!

Why did you call me again, fragrance of my dreams?
Roving through the seven seas and the seven mountains,
Without knowing your destination.
In the middle of impenetrable darkness,
In my half slumber, I heard the music
Of your love, calling me…
Why did you call me?

In the hub of the spring, while I was sleeping
Drained and sapped, and my flute also, having
Lost its entire cadence,
While the life force in me, was juddering
I heard your music of love calling me
From afar; why did you call me?

The tender soft melody clothed me in exultation,
And its incandescence, dancing in my spirit in glee;
I forgot myself, when the sweet melody, awakened me
And I fell into a languid knock-out, inside my soul?

GOD is LOVE…

Who is God? Is he a Hindu, Christian, or an Islam?
Is he Jehovah, Jupiter, or an E.T.? None of them!

You who preach the almighty God!
Are not you the white washed sepulchers?
The wolves in the attire of lambs, in your crimson robes;
Ready to devour the innocent populace
Hearkening to your Babel of scriptures,
And grappling them into your lairs?

You build churches and mosques,
Temples and hermitages, and monasteries,
For morons to learn, who God is .
Pilgrim spots in mountain heights and forests,
To guide the simpletons, through those paths of,
Inaccessible and impenetrable terrains,
For awarding them, ‘salvation’ or ‘moksha’ of the Soul.

You make a thousand disparate masks for God;
Images in wood and granite,
Moon stones and marbles,
Ivory and gold, and ornate them
With plundered gold, and gems.

You deceived Krishna, Christ and Buddha;
You deluded Mohammad, and Marx;
You charade as Godmen and preach
Incomprehensible words and scriptures,
To make them more complicated, with your interpretations.
You are the darkest nights, after the vermillion evenings.
Camouflaging the true God, in your glum,
With your scriptures, all the time.
And never realizing that He is inside
Your heart, in the form of LOVE!

Farewell…Sweetheart!

Kindling a sparkler, always in my inventiveness,
Transforming, into the heart throb of my existence.
My beautiful! I bless you in my sighs,
With every meek breath, from a woeful heart.
Your sweet memory caressing my gruesome
Spirit, keep the flame of life from extinction.
And aid me at my side, enabling me
To enjoy the fabulous, intrinsic bliss.

My dreams of all times, my desires of every moment,
The lyrics of love, always surging in my mind;
The blossom of sizzling grief, engulfing the mind,
I am paving in your path, as a gift of my soul.

If we do not meet any more in this life,
Or you are unable to come to my side,
And, we vanish behind the dark curtain of this birth,
I tell you, not to grieve about an unfulfilled aspiration
Of our soul, we have been holding close, in our bosom.

The life force of this universe will always clinch
Many more births, and deaths, in its wake.
And innumerable rebirths will bloom
In this earth; we will one day, happen on each other
In that event, we will never part but live eternally.

On that day…

Whilst touching the door of my soul…
Filling ecstatic nectar in my life,
And never telling ‘no’, in resentment;
Cheeks moistened with tears or perspirations,
Overwhelming with compassion,
Smelling of poignant anxiety in the eyes,
Smiling with the inner sense of a flower,
Spurting ambrosia in the psyche…

Uninformed, stunned, and unwavered I was,
As I saw you standing on the threshold,
With honey, in the blossom of your heart
Unflinching, with an unfading gleam;
A radiance of the sunshine in the look,
A winsome endearing beam on the lips,
A bashful mien in the demenour…
I was carried over to Elysium,
The haven of my dreams,
From this terra-firma…

I see that in my languor,
Through all the rest of distance,
Seeking the solemn softness of
Your innocuous innocence,
In the charming grace of your image,
Engraved in my heart;
And make them the delight of
My days and nights
I am in wait for you to come,
And soothe my fretful moments…

In the bosom, of a dream…

While my whole life,
Wearily sleep incongruously.
Vision of a sweet compassion,
Make a stage show in the mind,
Like a fairy walking, and coming
Out ofthe moonlight,
Vanishing into thin air,
Deep inside the infinite blue yonder.

The gorgeous moon sleeping in
The ether, became her companion,
She disappeared like a star,
from my eyes.
Entrancing reveries of hopes,
Withered and fell dead,
Into the empty wilderness,
Of disappointments,
On the vistas of the isolated paths,
of gruesome life.
Those dots of stains of strains are
Still stirring up untold grief.

As inspiring festivities of the spring,
Commence with its flowers,
Desires enter the mind as an uninvited caller.
Do you overhear the tales of my
Thousand and One nights,
Immersed in the chaos of stricken heart;
While sitting in your abode, in the sky
With it’s, scores of stores of stories.

Unable to define…

What can we call the chants of invocation
Springing out, between two souls….LOVE?

What is the name of that tragic insipid emotion
Evolving inside the heart, at the time when unable
To hear a coveted voice,
You were endeavoring to hear…LOVE?

Can you call it, an undulating adoration?
When the heart is chilled, with thrills and pleasures,
By the sprinkling of a meek bliss,
Through the words you hear at a time,
While you were craving to hear it?

Give an endearing tag, for the infinite sweetness
For the exultation you enjoy,
When you blot the honey, lurking in the tear drops,
From her eyes, with your lips,
Through, the compassion and love from your mind.

Do not try to define the sublime and winsome emotion,
That makes your reminiscence affable,
With the alluring charisma of a rainbow,
Radiating its luster, in your heart.

Let it dulcify the last moments of your life
With its nectar, held in its embryo, for our after life…


>

Heart aches...

That evening, when I bid farewell to you,
I could discern the love ablaze in your eyes;
Crying with its mute twinge of the soul, flowing out
As tear drops, through the corners of your eyes.
However you tried in vain, to contain those tears,
The stream of intense passion came out;
As a cascade of nectar, breaking its waves
Flailing in my heart, with its torrent of despair.
My pulsating lips, stole the honey drops from
The trembling eyelids, while the moans
Of sobbing grief, you rubbed into my chest,
As blossoms, of kisses, incessantly...

In that gloaming, while remaining in the cloister of your
Unfulfilled aspirations, erupted rue sodden sighs…
Playfully we laughed, amused in mirth, wrangled in love,
Teased each other, hugged later, and embraced to become
One, in the emerging dreams of our excitement.
In the moonlight of our tingle, we smothered
And savored, the cloying lasciviousness, of our heart.

In the furnace, of this mid-summer night, solitude
Brings the vacillating memories, of that night, into me.
Like a green canopy over my head, chilling, and filling sweetness.
I melt in that rapture, and then again search your moistened eyes.
Do not cry my love! Never fill those eyes with your sniveling.
The aches in your heart by the absence
Will soon end; I am on my way to your presence….
.