A time to love…

Tell me why you have failed to come here;
Like the froth of silence that could not
Embrace the shore, retreating with its
Lost liveliness, though yearning to meet.
The moon is shining till the early morn,
As the emission of the night, in despair.


I waited for you, in the tower
Haunted by the cooing doves.
The eternal clusters of stars were
Smouldering through midnight,
In tune with my frustrations.
The strings of my heart were straining
As the nightingale sang a strain.
Won’t you come near the window,
Drawing the curtains away
And sing to me secretly?
A song to revitalize;
A song to resurrect me
From the rancid grave of miseries.
Come gliding through the breeze;
Shower on me your love for ever,
As a dazzling rainbow of dreams…
My longings stand like trees on
The wayside, giving shelter and shade
To the passers by from the scorching heat.

Rains and rains…

In the eyes the splendour of the rainbow
On the lips the crimson glow of that hue;
You bloomed stealthily with the majesty
Of a rainbow, before me innocently.

The charm of a rainbow on a day
When the pearls of raindrops laughed
Peeling with its tinkle as the rain paved
Its gossamer threads in tides.
The raindrops lurking on your quivering
Breast and the bangles adorned on your
Pretty hands with the raindrops and those
Grazing over your body decieve me.
I no longer know, which is more gorgeous;
You, or the showering rain in all its splendour.
Your fingers playing on the strings of rain;
Your laughter emitted from those strings;
The chill you feel from the splatter and
The dreams hidden under the rain of passion…
I am sitting here in the midst of such rain clouds...

Mind is a peacock…

When the gate at the check- post of my mind
Is opening, I perceive in my reminiscences
Words whimpered in the silence of the night.,
By someone, nearest to my heart.
The one who has painted a thousand seas
In my eyes, so different from dreams
Softly, lightly, and densely as an etching;
Like a searing pinhole of light, in darkness.

For the warmth, as a penance
Everywhere is the season of dreams!
A season of frenzy, as a flame!
Like mating snakes in the rain shadow woods,
Waves of amour break at the conch of heart.
Everywhere the flowering season is seeking
The flaming blossoms, that gives solace
In tranquility, gliding like a bird
In the soft breeze, carrying the fragrance …

APRIL SHOWERS IN THE HEART

Blossoming at the touch of a finger,
Cooing like a frightened dove
In the chillness of the winter;
Allow me to touch you for once!
You are looking so gorgeous to-night!
You have the wings of the rainbow
In its perfect ostentation, after the rain.
You are the image affluent in my thoughts.
The voice of your dalliance lurks and
Resound in the ears as endless echoes.
When you sing an alluring song
The beats flash in my eyes as lightning strokes.
A flame which no others can see!
I am yearning in my wait for that great moment
When I can see you, talk and caress
Hold you in my arms, sing a song and
Suck the nectar, from your lips.

These passions enliven me, filling my desolate
Moments, giving a fillip to my life.
The passing breeze whisper some amorous
Tidbits in your ears and make your cheeks blush;
A thousand stars twinkling up, kissed on the
Corner of your eyes, made them shimmer.
What are you waiting for, standing there
As an idol, on the banks of that stream?
I am here only, with an April shower in my heart!.

Goodbyes are for ever…

Somewhere here lies the plumes
Of the peacock as my desires;
Somewhere there, are the broken
Pieces of those bangles..
Have lost everything;
Have forgotten the pathways also;
How long can this grief be sustained,
In this play house of life,
And how long can the tears be shed?
Heart throbs turned into voices
And diffused,In prayers;
And the spirit soared up.

Love blazed in the heart, like golden flames.
Love is like flaming wicks in a chandelier;
Like the weeping cries of small children.
It is now time to bid farewell and depart!

To day your hands will gild with Henna from
The crimson blood, oozing out of my heart.
I will say my last prayers to my endearing dreams,
And bury them in the coffin of my failures.
Why did you sing the lines of your love,
That does not allow me to sleep and keep me awake?
Why did you come to roost in this nest of mine,
If you ever intended to fly off and never return?.

EYES…

The human skin is the outer
Covering for the human body,
It is only the time, who stitches
That dress for him, to wrap around.
It gives glamour to the soul
Inside it, and will not wear off,
Or tear off or lose its shape.
Eyes are false witnesses
Always, not perceiving the facts
And telling lies, unable to
Comprehend the real meaning
Of what it see.
Only the inner eye can recognize
The truth behind things, and grasp
The true sense of the whole scene…

Connubial hopes...

The chillness of midnight has entered;
The mist has settled enveloping the nature
In its shroud of vague images, behind it.
Why can’t the nightingale stop singing and sleep?
Let me close the windows that let the gale inside;
And switch off the fan revolving overhead
Like the swirling passions inside me?
Is it possible to lie down and sleep even
After covering with a thousand blankets, or
Even with a million dreams beckoning me?
When the heart of a bride, envisage and yearn, for
Something beyond the humdrum chores of life.

Let me spread out the lotus petals on the bed;
And slacken off the light from the lantern.
How is that possible to fall asleep without
Scenting the fragrance of my beloved?
Without the enfolding hands embracing
My bosom, in that trance?
These are the livid dreams in the heart of
A maiden, living alone till now
With the cloying hopes of a conjugal life.

Unknown finale…

I tied up a swing, with the shattered threads
Of my dreams, high up on the branches
Of a tree, that I tended and watered,
With the tears flowing out of my dismal solitude;
Nourishing it to grow up and spread out,
In the far away shores of the sea of time,
In the silent valley of death, and oblivion.

I waited for my soul mate to join me,
Under the bluish light of the twinkling stars,
Keeping my heart in my eyelids for her.
I could not hear the flutter of time flying away
Over my vigil, unnoticed, in my consternation.

Cry now; cry till your heart bursts.
Hide in a place, where no one can notice you;
Lonely, and aloof from everyone.
Why did you attempt to awaken the
Strings of music, touching it with
Your delicate fingertips, without
The accent of the all powerful destiny?
Why did you try to kindle the desires, without
Knowing the finale of the story beforehand?

Delights…

Where are we now?
In heaven,
Or in the midst of a dainty dream?
Or in an imaginative world of
The celestial musicians?
Are those the lights of the earth?
Or the stars in the Milky Way?
Or music or musical notes that
Reverberates in the ramparts of heaven?
The milky clouds are making a canopy
Over the mansions, there.
In the wizardry of flamboyance
Perception becomes pulsating.
Let us float in these festivities
And fondle the embellishing loveliness.
The sky is looking down in
Bashful connivance to placate us,
And watching the revelry in the earth.
Jubilation blooming in the
Roistering, inebriate us now.
Let us forget everything, and
Plunge in these delights…

Gravitation…

In the bliss of that moment
I turned into a breeze in the autumn.
Fragrance of a thousand and one hysteric nights
Overwhelmed in the petals of the heart.
I was floating and drifting sleeplessly into the
Lonely coach where you were lying.
And wrote my adoration on the brim of that
Honey-comb, emanating the sweet scent of love;
Without your knowledge; without you knowing it.

In the euphoria of that blissful moment,
My mind became that pavane of a peacock
And its music flowed as a lullaby through
My sinews, that was thirsting for long.
I gave out the rhythms of my soul,
To the heartbeats that quivered in her…

Sorcery!

Tell me now from your innate wisdom,
Who is a friend and who is a foe.
You are familiar with the misery of
Incarceration and its ramifications.
The proverb says that the face is
The mirror of the mind and reflects truly,
Whatever is there as feelings and emotions.
The modern impression is that it defaces
The mind, and cache all the emotions,
Sinking it into the chasm of the soul.


In the exterior, it is all miles of smiles and
Detonating cheerful pleasantries.
Inside rages the flames of vendetta and rivalry.
Now who is the patriarch here and
Who are the submissive children?
Everything is a magic show performed
Or conducted and concocted by money only.

You see from a distance, a beautiful manor.
But those hearts living inside, are in prison.
It is futile and worthless to count
How many storey it possess.
Here love and affection means gold only.
Everything is sorcery and necromancy of wealth.
.

…a joy for ever.

The exquisiteness in the petals of blossoms
Overwritten with the blueness of heaven
In the eyes where dreams have swooned;
A nymph of the clouds, whose cheeks are
Painted a crimson hue of love and its bashfulness.

You were, so far standing on the other side of
My ocean of imagination, in my vivid memory.
The radiant prettiness of your face and its
Sweet inviting smiles of ravishing cheerfulness
Were remaining far out of my orbit.
Is this a present from charm and grace to me?
Is this a gift from the Goddess of love to me?
Today you will adorn the brilliance of a full moon
Of the spring season, in its full glory and approach
Me in the lonesome path of my dreams.
The silent elegance and consensus you diffuse,
Is the blessedness bestowed on me in this birth.
The indomitable never ending rapture,
Or a stunning flower that will never wither!

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…

Endless respites…

That song has become a bleak memory,
In the wearied heart in distress.
That voice has now become
A dismal pang in the mind.
The delicate soul is sobbing
As the sweet melody swooned.
We were yearning earnestly for so many
Things in our life, in years to come.

Sleep now, sleep for eternity, boundless,
And never wake up to reminisce again.
The dreams that bedecked the minds,
The blossoms of infatuations, in our thoughts.
Sleep now; the stars of blooming jasmines
Lest you lose your luster, and wilt, if awake,
When rhythms of seasons fade away.
Forget the tingling, titillating melodies in the heart;
The butterflies of sweet spring, that
Flutter in the desires and awaken multitudinous
Passions with their kisses, in the mind…Sleep now…

Dreams are for ever…

I just can’t assimilate the truth even now,
That you are not, (what I thought), near me.
To understand you are away
The fingers of the dawn should not
Enter into the kingdom of my sleep,
Softly touching the window panes,
And awaken me from my stupor!
The ripples in the river should cease
When the wind blows over the placid water,
And remain calm in silent acquiescence!

The fragrance of fresh rains should not
Emerge from the fertile soil while it embraces,
And conceive, receiving the semen into its womb!
The doves coming back to its nests for
Roosting, in the twilight of dusk should stop
Cooing,as making complaints of love to its mate!
The wind should stop its rustling with pranks,
Like uttering words through loud laughter!

The sparks dazzling from the pyre of my grave
Scatters over the stage where I was;
As I make my egress with my ruffled music
And crippled steps, of my dance.

Stray birds…

I sat there when the rain receded to
See that face so pretty as the rainbow.
Would you recognize me if I approached
In your sight as the ebullient chillness
Of the air around you enveloping in
The miasma of my endearment?
Would you not see the crimson red rose
You behold adoringly in your bosom?
The music that flows out of that lute
You play, melting in the ether
And through the ripples of that divine song,
I can reach the shores of eternal love.

I can adorn your chest with garland of
Snow white jasmine flowers, so pure and
Enfold you and shower a thousand kisses.
Why did you wait there without talking even
A word for a moment and leave silently?
What made you to vanish, without listening
To the incessant songs of my dissipated dreams?
The eloquent memories in the silence of my
Isolated hours turn out as songs and
Resonate in the wind, like stray birds now...

Parting is such sweet sorrow…

The gossamer tranquility of the mist
In the twilight over the pretty evening,
That bids farewell at parting, will never know
About the rain, as the tears of an innocent
Ember, of a cloud in its misery.

I wrote your lucky horoscope with a quill,
Depicting the sweetness of your soul.
Then you have forgotten to discern and
Make out the entirety of its vast holistic
Implication in your life, as well as mine.
I can only offer the rustling murmur of my heart,
Beguiling you to come back and fill this void.

We parted for no reasons, drifting away
Like dry leaves in a summer’s wind.
And when we finally met together, we are
In the freezing lake of a devastating fire..
Do we have any more rebirths destined to
Live a happier life of our own or
Are we left with only a fretful existence?
I am a rainbow, of love that drips from
The wounds of the afflicted mind in torture,
Unmolested by the vagaries of seasons…

You are my poem…

While corpses of my longings floats
Through my dreams, the silent anguish
Arising in the subconscious, insist me
To look back and chronicle those days.

Though I cannot blot out your tears
With words, I express my love as poem
Which I crimson with the blood of
My heart, I still can through a kiss
For a moment, blot out the moisture
Of the agony overwhelming your blue eyes,
That weaves exquisite poems, radiating
The loveliness of spring flowers.

I can as well stitch out a smooth silky scarf
With sweet rhapsody sodden with love.
The songs of love in my soul is kissing
The flute of my passions, to let you know
The unfathomable depth of my intimacy, and.
The entire earth and sky diffuse in your eyes now.

Passing away...…

Unable to take away anything
We earned or accumulated;
Unable to complete the tune
We started composing and hum,
We climb down the steps silently from
This stage, where we have been
Enacting a play, with scenario
And screen play created without our
Awareness, and directed by God knows who?

The sunshine that came in the morning
From one bearing, vanished and faded out
Through another direction in the evening.
Smiling through green leaves and settling
In the lap of fondling waves of the ocean.
Aching moist eyes close, even while
Bidding farewell for another night.


We come only once through this trail
To carry out and then exit from the play
Once our part is enacted completely;
Or sever off incomplete at an intermission.
By the time we make out the meaning of life
It will be too late to make a course correction.
Yet, the dainty reminiscence succeeding death
Spills its fragrance of heavenly nectar into the soul!

Ruminations…

Life makes me bereaved and in despair,
Though the heart long to laugh out.
This life is a tragic play where
There is no choice for the role
We desire to play along, till the end.
Passions in the mind wake up and arise
Even when I try to curb them and
Lull them to sleep, and soothe;
Like startling at hearing the voice
Of the paramour, in expectation.
I tried to soften the quivers on my heart’s lyre,
The love song that incessantly overwhelm
In my muddled mind as a torrential flood.
How can I compress and constrict the sweet
Fragrance of the endless spring into
A small bud of a jasmine?
Let the stars laugh and wink their eyelids
Teasing the lotus for its penance for the sun.
The heartache and agony of mankind
And their endearing dreams are of
No value in his terrain, throughout life.

ONCE!

Would you forget my silent strain of grief,
The song that is sung, endlessly in my heart?
The tear laden eyes that brims, when it’s
Unable to see each other, and the heart that
Forgets all rancour, that was beheld there.
Did you forget the untraceable thumbnail pictures,
You drew on the palm of my hand?
Do you remember the first kiss that I gave
You in the twilight, standing away from the light
That trickled from the house you lived.

Though you have drifted away from me,
Bidding farewell, a short while back,
A thousand rainbows in the mind are
Calling me again and again back to
Those days we spend together in glee.
I remember those evenings when you
Stood with half closed eyes in your ecstasy,
As my lips brushed your cheeks with passion.
And the consolation, with a thousand tongues
You gifted, when I was grieved in my heart.
Though I long to keep away all my memories
About the many days we had together,
The endearing aches overwhelming the eyelids
Awaken me with its outstretched flares…

Eternal groans…

Give a refuge for me among the waves of
Oblivion, you the ocean of ages!
You write everything and obliterate
All things that were ever written, in your march.
Passions and desires become spring seasons,
Then turns out as periods, and points of time.
Bowers garlanded with sweet flowers that was once,
Have turned into burrows where serpents hide out.
You are not overwriting, but erasing everything
And is rewriting afresh with new splendours,
Granting novel hues, and themes to it.

Ripples of love soar up there and fills
Heavenly raptures and rhapsodies in the mind.
Finally the cherubic nymphs and fairies transform
Into bizarre figures,that the eyes detest to watch..
You never attempt to topple down an edifice
But build them; yet you draw the dawn
As dusk that melts down in your folds.

Mansions in the air!

Oh! Sages, where is that glorious morning
That you promised to the mankind,
Deceiving them through ages by telling them
That Truth is God and the stories relating
To heaven about gods and goddesses,
And the life they lead in paradise.

Now gold coins and paper currencies
Rule this world in bursting laughter.
Mankind run after it, like bloodhounds
After their quarry, in the wild forests.
Justice and charity, morality and virtue,
Have been vanquished, in the battle fields.

You have shown and assured a dawn
Where the sun of love and peace will rise up;
The sun that was in deep sleep in mythology.
Where is that promised morning now?


*Dharmaputra who lost his kingdom
Is seeking a forest to dwell in peace;
Krishna is no longer there to carry
An errand for them to the Kouravas.
Or recite the Geetha to Arjun.
Those epic hymns have now become
Tragic poems and being ignored.
No mornings are there conveying the ripples
Of the songs of love in this earth now.
What happened to promised predictions?

* Ref: Maha Bharatha Stories

Pervading fragrance...

Harmony, reprieve and quarrel!
That is the history of mankind in succinct.
Preparedness, hindrance; they make the
The theme of a love story.
Seasons may come and then leave.
They will spread out pearls all around,
And gather them back before its return.
Blossoming flowers will wither away,
Nevertheless, will fill the air with its fragrance.
That scent will skulk and persist for ever.
A thousand eons will enjoy that perfume.

Destiny will always grin on the futile
Fate of humans, without discrimination;
And God will simulate sleeping all the time,

Anxiety!

The moon opened
Its nuptial bower,
Folding up its
Sapphire blue drapes.
The spring season
Possessed the night.
Is your paramour
Coming to night?
If not, what made you
To appear only half naked,
And wait in the harem
For his arrival, impatiently?
When a gust of wind
Suddenly opened the tiny window,
I saw you putting
Your palms to cover your bosom
Hiding your bashfulness.
I saw you dousing the golden shawl
In scented dewdrops and laying out
Over the mantelpiece.
And you were looking down
On the floor, in coy meekness
As you heard his treads approaching
Your chamber door, and your face
Beamed in exhilaration, excited
By the twitching euphoria.

A glow worm...

I will forget everything, my moonshine;
Will forget all in the dreams.
You are the teardrop of a blossom.
You are the pearl drop of the dainty dew.
Or the craving thirst of my stricken spirit.

Does a butterfly enjoy the spring
While smouldering in a flaming pyre?
Does the embers of my heart has some radiance
While it lies in the ocean of thawing ice?
The wandering desires are seeking the shores
That recedes away farther from me.
No stars are twinkling in the yonder
Only a twinging mind in desolation!
Do the dead quarrel with any one living?
Is there any whimpering coming out
Of a bird that has lost its wings?
Even a glowworm has a tiny light
Of its own, in the lonely night.
And a life emitting light to the living ones...

My paradise…

If this moonlight, these flowers, this breeze
And you are with me eternally;
The music in the song of the nightingale;
This ache and twinge and you in my presence,
Giving me the ecstasy of a life time;
The sandal paste you adorn on your pretty forehead
The saffron moistened by the pearl of your sweat
As my fingers wipe them out while
I endearingly fondle your countenance
Sitting together in the moonlight;
Like a cloud showering its moist drops
On the leaves in the garden
I will cuddle your sweet face then…

The supple radiance of your body that
Lie sleeping on my chest, at this moment
Is similar to the dew drops on the blade of a grass,
And like the a pretty pearl blossoming in the mother of pearl,
Caressed by the serene rays of the evening sun.
The sweetness of your name pervades in each of my words.
I feel your proximity in my boundless dreams.

Guest of honour!

Is that the bracelet on your hand calling my name?
Is that drop of nectar lingering on your
Coral lips, beseeching a kiss from me?
Does each of your heart beat always
Whisper involuntarily my name?
Does that sandal paste in your smile
Preserved to anoint my cheeks, in time?

The lover seeking the nectar filled blossom
Has reached the flower, and cupid with
His sensitive arrows, enthused the thirst of passion,
The tender petals awoke in the chill of lust
And drops of honey were brimming with ecstasy.

How dainty is this charming earth
That greets the radiance of love, as guests!
How immortal is this moment that
Brings my beloved to lay her head against my chest?

Fragrance from past births…

Whence is this sweet scent emanating?
Coming, seeking me with its fragrance!
A heavenly scent bringing forth the nostalgia
Of a period, before my birth and my present existence.
Inexplicable, yet embedded in the soul through births.
Or stemming from a flower that bloomed somewhere;
Or from the loving dream of a blossom.
Whence it came into this soggy moonlight?

Could it be the sigh from the soul,
Which always bear unknown miseries and melancholy?
Like bringing a message this way
From an unseen nymph, of her love,
That could not be expressed previously.
Like an articulation approaching from far beyond
From the kingdom of stars and galaxies,
Of extra terrestrials in love with the earth,
In ripples and embracing the shores of the spirit;
Subjugating the subliminal and whisking away
Into the realm of a phantasmagoria through which
I am moving like driftwood in a flood.

A sad memoir!

Same voice, same complexion;
An evening sky devoid of all splendours;
Empty and dreary with no clouds around;
Desolate shores where millions flowers of froth
Are given birth by the sea, unsavoured ...

Silence builds a nest in the heart
An everlasting pain sustained and stood
In the celestial sphere, without diffusion.
Winter and spring arrived and departed
With its melodious tidings and ornate grandeur;
Boisterous exhilarations and joyful outbursts.

Still the mind was in penance
Without articulations;
Only a grey flower dangled on the
Branches of reminiscence, unshriveled...

The word!

Everything has been said in a word.
A flower bloomed in the soul, at one glance.
Who looted the precious pearl,
From deep inside the heart?
Smiles exploded one after the other
On my jasmine, as it blossomed.
Sucking the nectar from the petals of
The flowers, who sang the mellifluous dulcet?
The chilly breeze playfully whispered
Something in the ears, on its way through here.
Glittering stars and an enchanting rainbow
Appeared in the far horizon!
Nature stood still in wonder, unable to assume.
What was that word!

My modesty

Ebulliently I coveted for a kiss, a sweet kiss;
An embrace on the lips by the love beetle;
I yearned and then my soul stirred.
But my modesty did not allow me to tell you my desire.

In the chilling early morning among the awaking
Blossoms, when you stood near me with your
Coquettish talks and me in the shade of a jasmine
That emitted the fragrance of a thousand dreams,
I turned into another vine and my bosom was quivering;
And I was shivering with my bashfulness,
I failed to utter my craving, out of my modesty.

It was a freezing breeze in the evening while
We were standing on the shore and the sea
Spreading millions of blossoms of froth
Around us, and I turned into another wave of that
Shore, my eyes gazing at the point of your
Curves in the midriff and my pulsating longing
To cuddle you and fondle your vivacious face;
But I could not, as my shyness made me disinclined…

Masks...

Someone said, ‘the face is the mirror of the mind’.
It can’t be the truth since the true face is
Hidden, always behind the mask of grins,
Camouflaged artfully
Over a sea of anguish and frustration.
Love in adolescence could be amusing
And delightful to recollect later, but
It could turn out to be a cyclone striking
Over the ash covered embers of
Reminiscence and may flare up any time.

Love is a delight, when confronted for the first time.
It becomes a burden when it loses its glamour.
The magic stems from the ignorance
That it can never end, and is eternal.
Words unspoken are then heard;
Invisible things come into view;
Without touching the senses feels the touch;
A miracle is happening inside…LOVE.
We call it love with its eternal angle.
‘Oh! Love is real enough; you will find
It someday, but it has one arch enemy
AND THAT IS LIFE.’

Pandora's box...

A music emanating from stones,
A flaring beam of light, in darkness.
An oasis found too late for the wearied soul,
That stumbled and limped through gloom.

Why should the sky be aware of the agony
Of a bird that lost its wings in flight?
What is the need for a garden to express
Compassion in the angst of a blossom,
Whose petals have wilted, scorched and withered?
Is there anyone in this earth, who has ever realized
The truth of human life, and its mysterious ways?

These are like the way of the eagle in the air;
The way of a serpent on a rock;
And the way of a ship in the midst of the sea;
Unable to comprehend and profess!
Our earth is rotating on its axis and revolving
Around the sun, always in fixed orbits;

Like dawns, like dusks
The human lives are infinitesimal as births
And rebirths occur in its natural ways.
Who remains in this earth having understood
The vagaries and complexities of birth?
It still remains and stands out as a riddle!

Miracles!

The thunder has to enter the stage
Only when the lightning displays, its strobe.
The sun can gape out of the horizon only
If the cock allows it by crowing from the roof top...
The rainbow has to give prior permission
To the rain clouds to splatter out.
And the peacock has to allow the sky
To copy its flamboyance to make the rainbow,
Through the pavane it performs, before the clouds.
The birds have to chirp in pleasure
Before the sweet spring season wade in.
The tree will refuse to drop off a fruit
Unless it changes from its raw colour.
How can the rain fall down to the earth
Before the hornbills cry for water, in thirst?
Until the crows get back to its nests for roosting
The sun will not dare to immerse in the sea.

Love hesitates to enter into the heart
When it cannot find a man or woman in this world.
The lullaby sung by mothers only with love
Can oscillate a cradle, for the baby to sleep.
No one can find out the work that God
Does from the beginning to end...

In oblivion

The violin that used to stream out
The horripilations of the heart as
The cascade of serene music,
Has now turned mute, and speechless.
The fingers that fondled without weariness
The deteriorating strings have
Now become strangled and benumbed;
As a flimsy curtain dropped down
At the end of the festivities of spring time
Like flowers that droops down at midnight,
In the final moment of the final day.

My beloved had laid down her head in my lap
And slept, without telling anyone.
In her final all encompassing slumber;
Where even the shadow of slight tremor cannot reach
And in oblivion and obscurity…

Bottled up!

Do you ever see any dreams,
In your meandering life over the oceans
And hills, when your paramour dips in
The sea beneath the sky, under your gaze?
When the wintry nights swoon
With a pot brimming with tears, on the head
Do you still see a paradise in your dream?
When the rainy damp evenings
String together with hues,
The bridal garland of a rainbow, that has to be worn,
Why do you conceal your mute anguish
Inside your spirit, bottled up, without
Letting it known to anyone, who adores you?

Darkness at noon!

Day dreams and milky moonlights;
Meandering brooks and forest shades;
Sylvan hills and golden glades,
Whispering streams and sunny vales;
Billowing beaches and cool coffee bars…
Times were fleeting on swift foot.
Every merry moment has to cease one day...

Far away from the shades of trees,
And chirping voices of fairies around the campus,
Coiled up in the recess of a quiet day;
In solitude, in the company of the sun’s heat.
The monotony carves away the sap of the heart.
The separation creates scorching heat
That of a mid-noon sun, in and around.
Fingers that held fingers have slithered;
Desolate days are like loud moaning in wilderness.
Forlorn, forsaken, abandoned feelings resurrect!
Like the earth’s first love affair...

When was the first desertion?
Who could have made it?
The lover or the loved one?
How many frustrated lovers and for how long
Have out grown the pain?
How many survived?
Frustration and the anguish after
Desertion, is always the other side of the coin.
Both are intoxicating and thrilling;
Both are exhilarating and stupefying.
That is the game of Cupid!

Hopes…

I will worship you standing at a distance
My peerless stunning goddess!
Your smiles look like the superb earth,
Clad in the radiance of the silver moon.
Who can foresee plucking a flower,
Even if it is ravishing on a branch
At our arm’s reach and precinct?

Though it is blossoming in the heart
Bountifully, who can predict if it
Could be possessed and embraced in the bosom?
Even then it is possible to adore it in dreams,
And revere it to the heart’s content, always.

Though the wind may quaver its hand,
Who knows if the blossom will drop down?
Who knows if it could ever quench the thirst
In the mind, though the chalice may be brimming?
Even if it is not imbibed, it is just possible,
It could be always felt and remembered.

Silent Nights...

In the chill of the wintry night
We arrive at the inn for a night, at twilight.
Like dry leaves roving in the wind
We count our small laughter and tears,
Like beads of pearls on the rosary in prayer.
Countenance of love, wake up in anguish
Of the mind, in the surveillance of the past.
And like birds of night, roams in the darkness.
The moon light is hiding in the blue sky.
The sniveling of a nightingale is heard faintly
In the distance, through the silent murk.
The spirit is writhing in pain and will remain
In vigil, through the night.

What is in store for the next day is not known.
The only certainty is, there will be
Again another dawn, and when the day
Becomes weary and no longer wish to continue,
The sun will set, and darkness will
Engulf the fading light like a lover.

So many Mary Magdalenes!

Pardon us, for having done the folly
Of being in this earth as women!
If there is a god, that god will feel guilty
When he identifies how we suffer, with
Our mute desires and passions, with fortitude.
Once we were the springs of passion to the poets;
We were goddesses for lovers who fancied us.
We were cast on their chests as favourite toys,
And were being fondled, as objects of pleasure.
We were laying our heads on their laps; hearing
Their whispers, encharming us with their flatteries.

When we woke up and realized we were hungry
For food, you threw stones at us, and called us prostitutes.
We are Mary Magdalenes seeking Jesus Christ,
To sit at his feet, yearning to wash his feet
With our tears, and anoint him with the fragrant
Spikenard oil, before the crucifixion.
We are the modern Mary Magdalenes……

Wingless…

I am falling to the ground, my wings
Having broken and shattered, on the
Rugged earth of this blue planet, and
With never-ending grief in my heart.
Let me give succor to the wearied spirit in me,
The comfort of the supple cushions of leaves.
The earth and heaven unaware of the woes in
The heart of the humans, always grin.

Another morning arrived with the beaming sun.
The buds of blossoms awoke and opened their eyelids.
The soul is exhausted with raving thirst,
In front of the milky ocean of love
Brimming and fizzing, in its serenity.

Rainbows flower and vanish in the horizon,
And the poor rain clouds hovers in and around waiting.
The pale moon fills its goblet again for another moment
In the heaven, and enter its chamber among the clouds.
On the pyre of yesterday’s flowers dance
Today, the buds of blossoms, happily.
Still the mind is longing for a drop of the milky
Ocean of love, for its parching lips…

Revelry…

We arrived into this theatre of an inn
One night, and together we have started
To play and sing our roles, as assigned.
Now this is the moment real and true!
This is my crystal platter.
Dearest, you pour into this
A few drops of the nectar of your love.
It will inebriate my lips and
It will intoxicate my heart.
Our birth is unknown to us,
And our death also comes without
Fore warning, without our knowledge.
Each end is held by birth and death.
Amidst these ends, is the time for
Merry making, the time for revelry
And roistering without break…

Shadow play...

You are the heroine in the shadow play
On the stage of grief, in the play,being
Enacted in the darkness of the stage.
What makes you adorn a necklace gratuitously,
With pearls of tear drops, from your eyes?
Why do you embellish yourself with ornate
Dresses and knick-knacks?
Why do you put vermillion on your forehead?
Why do you wear a garland made of dreams
On your face, that was hidden in your subconscious?
When the sun and the moon shines their lamps
On the curtain of this beautiful earth,
You remain as a shadow that fades away,
And dazzle, in a stage where there are
No spectators in front of you.

Desperate!

You disappeared somewhere like a lightning
And I wandered all over seeking you as a song.
The garlands I weaved sumptuously with ecstasy
Of your soul have now wilted and scorched.
My Morning Star! Where have you gone,
Shattering my dreams, and paralyzing my life?
You vanished like the silvery moon in the sky.
And I am becoming a cloud to conceal you up
In the warmth of my cosy love for you, and
With a mirthful spirit running after you.
Now I am left alone with its desolate grief,
And you escaped like the morning dew
Into the vast emptiness and I am
Seeking you, becoming a sob and a sigh now!

That was you?

Who lighted an evening lamp in
My reminiscence? Could it have been you?
Is there a blossom that will not wither
By the trampling of vandalic time?
The mind has become a turbulent ocean where
The sensuality of desires has fainted.
We are prone to forget even our reflections;
We are tempted to laugh, even in anguish;
And also, under excruciating pain in our soul.

Today, in my reveries, my eyes shed a drop of tear.
That was a tear of joy and for you alone.
Time has scrawled too many stories and
Many waters flowed under the bridge.
Dusks drooped and withered
To make blossoms, of fresh dawns.
We have forgotten all the flamboyance of those days
And put on masks to cover our nature.
Still a lonely hue comes into the memory.
Was it you who made it come?

Your fragrance…

Just for you I will take a rebirth
And continue together through
Innumerable rebirths, my sweet heart!
Thus I will share my infancy and adolescence
Just for you alone in all my lives.
My heart is a cradle for you to rock,
To slip into a sleep, my darling.
Don’t you reckon my heart beats
As the music of a lullaby, I am singing for you?

The tranquil dawn and the flowers will recite
My dreams, as your passion from now on.
The music emanating from the strings of my heart,
From this moment, will only be for you.
I can now sleep in the serenity of your memory,
Breathing its fragrance from today, my dearest…

Delusions!

If the sun rises in the morning
It will set in the evening.
If a child is born into this world
It will definitely die one day.
If a flower blooms in a plant
It will sure wilt, and wither away.
If anything is filled up,
It will get emptied once.


Love precede hate, and
Tears give way to happiness.
Destiny will laugh at this,
And time will get along endlessly.

A spark of fire can grow into
A wild fire in no time and play havoc;
And the vestige will be the scorched cinder.
Still the firmament and earth will
Remain the same, as though nothing happened.
The ramparts of intellect will always tend to grow.
The heavens have witnessed countless dawns and dusks.
There is only one door that maybe kept shut-
The mind of man; in spite of knocking, will not open.
Nevertheless, it will open once, though was remaining
Closed for so long, at the moment when death enters.
The nature and the earth were, through
Ages, watching the springs and summers
Of this dreary world so long!

Non-plussed!

How come the presence of a person
Makes another one so enamoured?
How come the smile of a person is
Felt so adorable by another one?
How such fondness, diffuse through pores
At the root of every hair follicle
As roaring waves, as flaming fires
Into the inner soul, and make a sea of
Happiness spilling around?

The mind is yearning to drown into
A chill moon-lit pool of loveliness,
And swim around enjoying the ecstasy.
But one depressing thought comes
Into the mind, very often.
That even this sweetness will vanish
One day, yielding place to bitterness.
I am now seeking a chalice of love
That keeps away such acrimony from its content..

Once again a gift…

Could you once again make a couch
For me, with the alluring flowers of dreams,
Where I can dwell in tranquility and comfort?
Could you spread-eagle me on
The branch where your reminiscence
Are laid out, once again?

Colours have faded out in the mind
Shadows are crowding in the haze;
Boundless aspirations of life
Are sighing in grief, and consternation.
I am drowning in the eddies of
A fathomless sea of misery.
Pour me out, the elixir of your smile,
Once again, before we part away.

Emerge as a causeway in the sea of my
Tears for me, to look into in your eyes;
Like faith cropping up as waves
In a walloping, stricken heart.
Gift me a little of the music still lurking in
The point of your amorous eyes
For the last time, once again, before we part..