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Monday, November 30, 2009

Udaan..

 
खुरच खुरच  कर  यादों  से ,
क्यूँ  दुःख  ही  बस  चुनते  हैं
क्यूँ  कभी  उस  बेहिचक  सी,
स्वछंद  हंसी  की
खिलखिलाहट   को  नहीं सुनते  हैं 

किसी की बंधी सोच से ,
हम क्यूँ बंध जाते हैं
किसी के अहम् की क्षुधा  को
क्यूँ अपने आसुओं से बुझाते हैं

अपने परों पे उड़ना
अपनी राहों पे मुड़ना
अपने रंगों की बूंदों से
अपने जीवन चित्र को बुनना

यह अहंकार नहीं
मेरा अधिकार है
 मेरी हर परिभाषा
मेरे सपनों की हर उड़ान  का आधार है

उड़ान

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Yuhiin...

कभी कभी गुज़र जाते हैं
ढेर सारे सपनों और रंगों का बोझ लिए,
डरे डरे से, थके हुए
बिना कुछ स्याही से लिखे , कहीं
बस यूहीं..

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

The broken Dream..

I don't really remember
how old I was
when I first breathed
the smell of rain

It never occured to me then
that this is how
looking at the parched earth
meeting water
I had welcomed the knowledge of pain

Looking at innocuous blossoms
against a clear blue sky
I unknowingly found answers
to every single why

I shaped my right and wrong
and forged in into every poem and song
wove it with colorful dreams
which lay lazily under sunlit beams

I learnt to talk to the moon by my own
and share with it all my fears
for I had heard many stories
of the hefty price of tears
I sat in a thoughtful poets' pose
on a full moon night
I did not care then to know
of how to usher in the morning light

But then, they started growing, moving
often turning in my sleep
Beginning to paint their own pictures
Secretly, somewhere deep

For long I neglected
found more words and thoughts
to feed their growing appetite
and all the attention that they sought

But when I could no longer contain
that irresistible want for reality
I took the chance and
gifted them to this world's duality

For a while, it was all beautiful and fine
and I could hear the distant wind chime
I smiled at passing flowers
and words for me, still rhymed

But then, day by day,
something scraped a little of them away
hurting in the process
as they struggled to grow and stay

It was a long long illness
that left so many scars
like the memoirs of
long  forgotten dead stars

I smile sometimes
sometimes I cry
At other times
I simply try

To have them once again rest
with their wings on the flower bed
and let them feel the sunlight alone
and watch from far instead

But I know its different and they are shy
I sometimes have even heard them cry
I ask them of what took away that desire
to flow tirelessly and never retire

At last, one day in a casual reflection
without the least intent of inspection
I noticed the crack that I had long ignored
that I had assumed time would have cured
lying wearily under that sunlit beam
in the light of the day
I saw "the broken dream"

Friday, September 11, 2009

Freedom

"A brief candle; both ends burning
An endless mile; a bus wheel turning
A friend to share the lonesome times
A handshake and a sip of wine
So say it loud and let it ring
We are all a part of everything
The future, present and the past
Fly on proud bird
You're free at last."- Charlie Daniels

The immeasurable stretch of a cloudless blue sky,
The millions of possibilities ripening in a single "why",
The countless drops that bathe the earth on a cloud's whim
The overpowering urge to flow beyond the brim

The way I choose to feel the pace of time and space
The lines I draw to define the already known face
The smile I wear or the frown I bear
Whether or not I give in to a wandering, homeless tear

The words I write for whatever transpires
unknowingly, secretly, that thinks and inspires
Without permission, wandering into extremes,
From dark memories to daylight dreams

Like the kite bound with an invisible string
Like the whole color palette rainbows bring
The shades I pick to fill in the picture
Each mind open to its own conjecture

A leaf allowed to make its green
The moon deciphering what the tides mean
The sea pouring out its unbound emotion
The sunflower binding in its unstinted devotion

Where is the boundary that describes the norm
Tell me of a water that adheres to form
I want the leaf that knows its home
Or thoughts that don't wander or roam

A stolen silence or cacophony
Ignorant bliss or a thoughtful agony
The earth and the heavens and everything in between
Are entitled to set the stage for the scene

Merging, melting and growing,
evolving each day in the myth of control,
In making small choices, in designing
our sphere of life, we actually own the whole

With each step, every glance
each move, every stance
In losing the owned, protected and decreed
Somewhere a part of myself I freed

Like the mountains, the earth, the sea, the sky
Like the lonely leaf , even the little bee that just passed by,
I was born free
and that is how it shall for eternity be.

Free..

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Lurks somewhere..

Painting is a lot like poetry; a means for an unbridled expression with the veil of a well-concealed exterior. Overflowing with what is not obvious(to the eye), a lot lurks in the shadow of every stroke...


Lurks somewhere
,

the depth of sadness
in the many dimensions of pain,
the brightness in flowery colors
smothered by a dark stain
the freedom of whatever
in the realm of forever
staining the white
into expressions struggling to define the right
a stroke to contradictions, another to defeat
a deepened scar of the red, with a shade of deceit
casual spring merged with earthy grace
wandering happiness that some contours embrace
to cherish , to spin into memories
in a veil of abstraction, definite stories
dreams gilded, bound by oil
a cooking kitchen for the inner turmoil
a peaceful white
some artificial light
a fall leaf
a faraway sight

lurks somewhere

shuffling across the many layered
shades never owned or bared
brushes always guarded and protected
never allowed to influence
the shapes of time and space
the control a mere pretence

lurks somewhere

all this and more, in closed and open doors
in wooden faces and checkered floors
in landscapes , dunes and mountains by the sea
in all that was and all that could never be,

lurks somewhere

an introspection
a submission
a regret a little history
a tinge of laughter
a longtime victory

lurks somewhere

in my canvas
s o m e w h e r e

Friday, May 30, 2008

The 'cloud'..

A cloud of dreamy consciousness floats somewhere in my mind,
lots of staggered patterns of time and space left far behind.

Little droplets..with a little history huddled in each,
secrets of the universe...all within their reach.
Its just the precise pattern of light that must from the heavens glow,
for the disclosure and alignment of the seven colors of the rainbow.
Till then, mostly silence prevails in the inner reaches of the dense ,
Every day leaves it marks somewhere on the outside..each with a subtle reference.

Floating in this continuum of time and space
each moment is a like a frozen bit of realization
Despite the uncertainty, there is a definite grace
with which the cloud assimilates each new agglomeration

I am a distant observer, I do not bring the rain,
I do not form its patterns, I do not cry with it in pain..

We are a disjoint set..yet we seem the same,
Our paths are interestingly arranged, in the grander scheme.

I sometimes wonder...what lies in the reach of this cloud,
Does it try to speak to me...is the outside world too loud?
I also think of all the clouds that have ever been,
Some which 'rain-washed' ignorance, some whose rains were never seen.

What makes the cloud happy..what does it keep on thinking?
In the days of insignificance that it has...what chains of drops does it keep linking?

A perfect crystallization of an abstract thought, could it ever insinuate ?
What of significance and importance in the larger scheme of things..could it ever procreate?

The cloud is innocuous...does it know of possibilities ?
Can it for itself understand its identity...its burden of responsibilities?

What does the cloud think of the 'everyday' drops..and what of the drops of deep thought,
Each one with their own significance, each one sometimes wanted and sought..

I sometimes get so puzzled..that I mumble out aloud..
The eternal mystery of myself..my questions to "the cloud"

The cloud :)

Saturday, February 09, 2008

DREAMS OF PAPER..

Dreams of paper

Like looking at floating, crisp little white clouds scattered across a blue sky,
Like the sound of an aeroplane that brings back the childish urge to fly
Like puddles of water after a sudden rain,
Like an old paper napkin with a birthday cake stain

dreams of paper..

grow along as we do..
are cursed birds that never flew

Like poetry never shared or read
Like little disappointments that are never declared
like amateur art being praised by a critic
paper colored in imagination; nonetheless artistic

dreams of paper

keep crawling along...and never find their feet
are secret smiles of victory in defeat

Like a star studded sky covered with clouds of storm
like a gifted brilliance that lacks expression and form
Like music lost in its own silence
like a conviction without defense

dreams of paper

float in little paper boats sometimes
jingle in the random music of wind chimes
wait all through for words to pen them down someday
or blessings of reality to sweep them away


dreams of paper

Like ripples in long stagnant water
like the road from before to after
like a basketful of wishes, packed in style,
not unwrapped too often; too sacred and fragile


The natural smile which a long forgotten nursery rhyme brings
Dreams of paper
are among all things...my most "forever" belongings

Dreams of paper

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Through seasons and moods..

"....I realise that I do not understand what or who can fill this inner void..this little voice of dissatisfaction drowns everyday amidst
the so many conversations I have or the day-to-day activities that I engage in ..but nevertheless it is always there, to remind me that somewhere an inner
equilibrium needs to be achieved."



The only leaf on a bare tree ,the last one to leave,
How long is she going to stay, how long can the winter she deceive

A different blend, new shades
to give in to change, the autumn fades

From a quiet autumn , to a quieter winter cold,
From the first step..a continuation to a journey untold..
A change... in every passing moment..of a mysterious flickering light,
Like a silence..disturbed every instant..still pretending to be quiet

Equilibrium is a mirage one can never reach,
The laws of equanimity we unconsciously always breach,
for there is a beautifully insane dynamism that operates,
something striking about the way the conundrum iterates..
Stability is a myth, because there is a constant spur
The winds change direction ...the leaves incoherently murmur..
In this momentum, it is rather difficult to pause and think
To understand the "why" underlying everything, to justify every link
This is an endless mystery..the gradual unfolding of time
Like the unrestrained flow of water ..sans reason or rhyme
Silent spectators and participants we are..in our own sense,
to the many beginnings and unending conclusions that again commence,
Little dreams scattered amidst patterns of reality that form each day
Sometimes lost...sometimes a few manage to find the way..
An inner and outer world coexist in a struggle for harmony..
In weaving our definitions of self..a composition ..a symphony

Sometimes..it becomes difficult to appreciate this constant unrest,
Moods that swing to the negative to its unexplained behest
The inner music that goes out of synchronism
as chaos sometimes maligns this benign dynamism
The seasons seem unreasonable and the winter far too white
The sky too cloudy and mornings no more bright..

But,it must come full circle ..the purpose and the meaning
From a defeated winter with bare trees..to a flower laden spring
An appreciation ,as through a usual day I cruise
Of this unfailing optimism which in spite of everything I amuse,
I try to paint my own picture..I try to gather the hues,
I attempt to achieve a balance..I struggle to shun away the blues..

Of all I grasp, of all I see..
Through seasons and moods..as I continue to be,
I ponder and think..and my eternal questions I address
In all this somewhere..Lies my quest for an 'indefinable happiness'

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

A DREAM NEVER SEEN...

However hard I try ..they come back to make me feel new each time..
However much I forget ...I am always reinstated into the search for the sublime..

I have some vision in my mind..I have some goal in my eyes..
A childishly mischievous..maturely rebellious passion that an outer calm belies
A haunting sketch of the shape of a dream in a blur
An all-governing emotion to which I completely surrender..

A quest..a journey ...an unknown destination
A step...a pause....an effort towards disambiguation
A mirage ...that enamors me since forever
A strange..eerie..sense of a beautiful possibility in a never

I cannot explain..I do not know
The what and why of it all..as my boat the winds row..
sometimes I forget..this bigger picture I see
and then again it comes back ...hurling questions at me..

I know just this..that I do not belong..
I have to carve in conviction..the words of my own song
I have to judge only myself..and be my special friend.
I have to find you through this dream..I just have to comprehend..

To remind me again and again...you throw the charms once more.
I regret having lost sight of you...I regret my ignorance of what is in store..
But when I know that you are there...
love , anger, tears and smiles..all of mine to share..
Then I am ready to struggle and find my meaning
my steps prepared to register in each day..a new beginning

Just to let you know..some thoughts are painful..
others plain distracting..but some.. purely beautiful...
my past visits me sometimes..just to blow off some sand..
I let the strewn sand just be..I neither question nor demand..

and..then..this sight comes unannounced ...and wakes me from this thoughtful sleep
I break away from the shackles of the negative..for a look into the real deep..
A voice calls me..a picture wants to be painted..
A road beckons me.... reality secretly urges to be tainted..

just the right thought..just the right devotion
honest true sacred...just the right emotion..
I know I still cannot fathom the depth ..as the empty pages I peruse..
But each day...I live with a beautiful solitude..in companionship of an undefinable muse

it elevates me beyond myself..it urges me look ahead
it binds all my restlessness magically..into a single thread..
Bind me through all my days..never leave me feeling insecure
With all the strength and conviction you lend me..I know there is more I can endure..

Live on...
even after I am gone long
color everything the way you paint my world..
with the shades of beauty you bring along..

May I never lose sight of me and you,
May all my vows to myself I never undo
A equanimity to govern me..a strong passion to its behest
a little gratitude each day..and a purpose to invest

for the enchanting realm which a half baked persistence of thought takes me to..
I am grateful for all the inexplicable definitions the indefinite imbue..
For long struggles and victories in lands to which I have never been
My gratitude for the bewitching trance of a dream never seen.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

CONFLUENCE..

"I am like a remnant of a cloud of autumn uselessly roaming in the sky ; O sun ever-glorious ! Thy touch has not yet melted my vapour, making me one with light, and thus I count months and years separated from thee.
If this be thy wish and if this be thy play , then take this fleeting emptiness of mine, paint it with colors, gild it with gold, float it on the wanton wind and spread it in varied wonders.And again when it shall be thy wish to end this play at night, I shall melt and vanish away in the dark, or it may be in a smile of the white morning, in a coolness of purity transparent."

~from Geetanjali(Rabindranath Tagore)

Confluence :(n) meeting ;a place where things merge or flow together .


Walking the line between a dreamy perfection and a practical compulsion ,
Amidst the struggle to convince a rebelling intuition
I listen on sometimes...numb in mind,sans any defence
amazed at my tolerance of the inner "incongruence".

Millions of thoughts-dreams , hopes, regrets , fear , anticipation
The never ending attempt to bind these to a single definition
To harmonize , to align
To conquer and to a peace forever resign.

The azure of the sky , the different shades that it takes ,
The kaliedoscope of distinction collapses and then the white it makes.
I wonder if a million more shades are evoked by each reflection
I admit to only a number..limited by my human perception
As colors blend into one another
Hues are born , Shades meet and wither

The flourishing night and the fading sunlight,
Each day..meet at twilight
The silent conversation at dusk...that concludes the sunshine for the day,
Stars congregate to adorn the gathering ..the rendezvous with the last ray
Unfailingly each day...in a divine rhythm they meet
To weave the cosmic conspiracy..darkness and light greet

the rhythmic movement of fingers to the tune the mind creates,
In anticipation of the next note..at resonance the peak vacillates
the aural communication , a coordination beyond recognition
free flow of the indefinite..sound in a servile submission
the deliverance of emotions, the acme of intensity ,
A beautiful concourse of sounds..euphony in stark simplicity .

When rivers meet and merge into a third entity
A transparency shared..the waters fabricate a new identity
At the ocean's threshold , the unruly waters bow in deference
Since the beginning of time..this has been..the final confluence..

But the insoluble and the soluble distinguish
Water and Oil ...to each other never relinquish
The gracefully careless movement of oil on the surface of water
A boundary preserved...in meeting with the other..
On the far end , the dissolution into the similar with a spontaneous belongingness
In a casual greeting , the forged bond of oneness
this is how a tiny droplet grows
each time ...the dynamic stability of a perfect sphere shows

If an inner harmony could be so created
In tune , in sync.. the restlessness abated
If a rhythm could bind ,if a convolution could hold
The inundated emotions that flood the mind...as my days unfold

grant me..the freedom of water , the solitude of stars
The colors from the sunset ...the fragrance of flowers..
Let me touch once, let me fly
The hallowed corridors of your abode..the lights that graze the sky.

Between the conscious and subconscious
Through the free flowing and the maligned viscous..
across dreams and reality..between now and eternity..
a mere bubble of ignorance exists..
from the cauldron of illusion...smoky visions persist...
vanquish the duality that this brings..
lend me my own independence of divine wings..
command all these contradictions to meet and forever dissolve
Lead me to light..to renew..to absolve
The precise balance in merging and dissolution
that can demystify reality with an enlightening justification

With a single blessing , an inspiration ..a casual whim of your divine influence ...
Resolve my inner conundrum ..lead me to a sacred "confluence"..

Monday, July 09, 2007

I AM...

"Kanha , Have I bought; the price he asked I paid ;
Some cry , "Too great", while others jeer," 'T was small";
I paid in full, weighed to the utmost grain ,
My love, my life, my self, my soul, my all. "

~ Mirabai(E.L Turnbull)


From the diaries of Princess Mirabai ...

In a paragon of the abstract
The supreme reigning fact
a statement of staunch belief , a faith translated ,
In triumph over the unconquerable , victory delineated.
an unbound , free sense of truth demands
a pedestral beyond what classification commands
In potrait ;in essense
In obeisance; in reverence
of a love that transcends its own boundaries
from the corrupting clutches of convention it flees

The tumult of thought put to a premanent rest,
the everlasting victory of self-conquest
me and my silence ..are forever friends,
Involved and engrossed..in a conversation that never ends..
the first oath , the first promise
is unswerving allegiance to one's own premise

An upliftment of the soul ,
An innate independence , a beautiful resonance of the whole
An emotion of unbridled exhilaration,
When to the self, the self becomes an inspiration,
An inner equation of essence deciphered,
A higher state of living acquired.

When the consequent emotion cosumes all ;
When singularity of thought governs the divine protocol
The union of self with the unattainable ,
when darkness and light become indistinguishable,
When godliness pervades the mind ,
When the futility of existence is left far behind.

From the tangled , aimless milieu of thoughts , one state of being emerges;
When an ultimate peace reigns within, to which each and all converges ,
When a trance stays on through nights and days,
when through each spoken word , divinity itself conveys.
Attainment of the pinnacle of possibility,
since now and forever ...a continuing self-discovery.

A stand of equanimity against the dislocating dynamism that operates ,
In a giant leap across the chasm , the shallow "knowledge" of all evaporates,
What remains is a pure nothingness;
The first fresh morning of the soul's regress.

An overpowering thought, a precise passion
An association with light , an indelible impression
A compilation of all that was and is ,
An exaltation of life , a catharsis.


The most enriching tribute to existence,
Through the veins of a troubled conscience, a purging renaissance
Thoughts traversed , judgements surrendered ,
In absolute blankness, the eternal expression discovered .

When the revered is surpassed by the sheer greatness of reverence ,
When love and the loved lose meaning and difference,
The gratifying thought is all that prevails ,
The aura of faith nurtures , the identification of the object fails.

A unique solution , a secret pleasure,
That rational wrappers of knowledge can never fathom or measure.
No justification , explanation, or want of credence,
A simple , uncorrupted unguarded deference.

An acme of concentration , the zenith of convergence,
The invincibility of a vulnerability that seeks no defence.
A soft submission of a nascent mind , to a reach beyond the guarded,
The ecstasy that can not be shared, the robes of normalcy discarded.

Like the simple manner in which water satiates,
Like the grace with which darkness light dissipates.
Like when one and only one emotion throughtout permeates
Like unto its highest , it to itself , perpetrates.

A feeling with no comparable description ,
A supreme liberation ..with the master's permission.

In the midst of opposites each day,
we painfully struggle to find a way..
Like that path has been found,
lit with confirmation, where no contradictions question and hound.

Differences become immaterial to the inner harmony that reigns,
A continuing end, an everlasting conclusion that seeks no means.

In the big book from the heavens , I always searched for me ,
One day I found my name , merged with an expression of thee.
I amalgamated into and beyond myself and you,
My entirety ..a single thought could contain and embue.

Dedicated to the unknown , I bask in the dedication ,
Slave to the greatness, I see my glory in the submission.

Like the first flow through a choked lane,
like the welcome realization of that lost sense of want and pain.
Like moving across destiny's waters and getting drowned,
The day my identity dissolved in them...the real princess was crowned.

To submerge in tranquility
to taste divinity,
to connect with life,
In a relationship of primordial simplicity.

I bond with the eternal , I fly away in time
I float in music , I am chanted in rhyme.
I am the lost , I am the found ,
I am the silence , I am the sound,
I am the sanity of an immeasurable magnitude
I am the assimilation of an infinite gratitude..
I am a thought in a crystal clarity
I am the completeness of a definite finality

I am...the indefatigable spirit that thrives in the core,
I am the evolution..the because..the only, the thus ...the therefore..

I am.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

WHERE SHE COULD BELONG...

Of a seed..
that had been wronged
taken away by that southern wind
from where she had belonged..


From an unknown seed carried by the southern wind you came ,
the unnoticed nook in the wall captured you forever , to hold ,to own and tame..
from where did you come ,uninvited, you never revealed
within yourself the part , the whole ...you always concealed
so long as you were quiet ..the walls ignored your presence,
in each moment of a constant change ...the inactivity as a pretence
then on a gray day...the first rain was here
the water that had tasted that earth ...which to you had been dear
that blinded the closed eyes..with a sunshine never seen
that stimulated the touch of ...the dew drops that had never been
that treasure of the soul...that rested in sleep since long ago
woke up in surprise....to know of the rain...to welcome her flow
the metamorphosis...the rain-brought realization of a new form
since the last casual journey with the treachrous winds,a permanent adherence to a new norm
the little roots , the first leaf.. that special shade of green
very much like that faraway tree...you have never even seen
each day...you spread a little more than yesterday
with the evening breeze...you freely chatter and sway
that incessantly fluttering little leaf , so pleased with the breeze
the slight crack in the wall..the width always on an increase
this way ,that way...you move in a careless mirth ,
how long shall the roots bind you .. to the lost touch of the earth,
a slight perturbation,a monstrous change
when in betrayal of the puffy white clouds, stormy patterns arrange
one day..the walls shall revolt and the storm will merge with the rain
the little leaves will be humbled and the roots shall know the pain
the rain dictated by the storm's ambition
here to strike with an insider's permission
to uproot that statement of identity carved in the wall
to conspire with the power of the wind..to witness this fall
the nook was never yours, it was losing patience
the roots held onto foolishly , a powerless defence
it was a pattern of hurt in a veil of ownership ,
a dominance so stealthily stolen , a feigned partership,
the rain came again in silence and mourned with the scent you had known
of the land that you could hold on forever , of where a tree had grown
All was lost ..only a hope just remained ,
long after the the storm was gone..and the crying heavens had rained ,
of a meeting with "that" green ,whose part here did flourish
of once smelling that land of birth..that could protect and nourish
of a sight of a frivolous movement to the wind's direction
of a childhood carefully groomed ...under the earth's sturdy supervision
of this the last leaf had dreamt ; clinging to the wall...praying all along..
to fly with southern wind one last time...to "that" tree where she could belong..

Thursday, April 26, 2007

OF A FREE BIRD...

ek svachand panchii ke par-on mein chipa aasmaan ka vistaar
yatharth ki dor se pare....aseemit aakankshaaon ka aadhaar...



of a free bird...liberated , undeterred,
of the wings of freedom ..unending, untethered,
the eternal romance of flight with the skies..
the indefinite equation where no boundary applies..
the sacred forbidden route to a chaos now identified
the weird shape of the cloud of thought forever justified
the journey with no promise to return
the care without motive or concern
of a flow , an inundated movement
independent , unbound, resurgent
of a lost sense of what "ought" ,
of an ecstasy of a choice since forever sought
of words that melt held notions,
that challenge hidden questions...fuel discussions..
on a vast canvas in a stretch of infinite dimension,
a newly painted interpretation that seeks no affirmation
of a flood that enriches as it engulfs in entirety
of a deep bond not corrupted by a displayed affinity..
of a thoughtless love...of a thoughtful solitude
of a victory celebrated..with a loser's attitude
of letting go all caged and imprisoned in the self somewhere.
no more the nervous glance..now a piercing stare
abandoning questions ..an elopement with the answers
to forget the words that formed ...to appreciate the jumbled letters
to experience an inner revolt ; to be wary of acceptance
to turn back and, with pride, reject the inviting entrance
for once..to follow the inner steps with closed eyes
to let go of reality for the imagination that flies..
to visit her land...to know her soul
to begin the journey.. to forget the goal
to borrow some dreams from her again
to speak in my own language..without having to explain
to see everything as she dictates
as my shackled expression she liberates
across her..beyond her
to..conquer , to..surrender
in the whirlpool of a comforting illusion
in the long awaited flight for migration
of my first desire..of my last will
of an escapade with freedom.. of the nascent thrill
a melting dream of wax wings...carefully moulded and sintered...
the first flight to the blazing sun...of a free bird ..

Monday, April 16, 2007

THE FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND..

like the unnoticed continuous rhythm of breath in each passing moment,
like the quiet monotonous acceptance of each nameless event,
like the inability to distinguish between the voluntary and the fated,
like the forgotten description of what you had once owned and created ,
like the dance steps that cease to define movement,
like the similarity forcibly assigned to the widely different ,
like the order imposed without a rebellion,
like the prosaic alikeness of all of a million..
like the music that has a dull harmony without a soul,
like the pendulum that oscillates without a particular goal.
like a stuck chord ;like a frozen drop
like a marathon walk; like a sudden stop
like an unfamiliar comfort in a dull similitude,
like a nonchalance smeared over a thinker's attitude
like an unsaid agreement with circumstance,
to float and live in a self chosen instance
like the frozen expression of a portriat to keep
like the unrest in emotions sent to a cosy sleep
like a thought arrested ;like the past visited
like a little present ;like the many gifted
like a bit of yesterday like a bit of today
like all together...the same..everyday
like the definition of average ..
like an unexplained bondage
like discovering an identity in being lost
like the comforting numbness of a winter frost
like a stillness not followed by disaster
like a tomorrow that will want no answer
like a direction beyond identification
like a journey without destination
like lots of thoughts sans organisation
like a chronic disease that eludes prescription
like a strange locking into a shy stability
like a surprising pact with adaptability
like an innocent laughter without derision
like a complacence inspite of a blurred vision
like the unwilling slow movement towards an impending change
like the settling into an odd warmth..unknown and strange
like a contentment without purpose and form
like the heaviness in the air before a storm
like an insecurity masked in resignation
like a half-heartedly conquered apprehension
like leaving for the waters ..away from your land...
like looking back...in a thoughtful glance... at the footprints in the sand..

Saturday, April 07, 2007

IN A LITTLE BASKET..

each day..I knew it was going some new way..
I wondered if I could hold on time...I wondered if it could stay..
I somehow remember again today..
how a part of me..to it I gave away..
the first gift..I dared to give..
the first wait..I chose to live..

painting a soiled canvas or dressing a scar,
admiring the petals of a crushed flower.
vulnerability of power
thirst that preceeds a long awaited shower
smile that mocks pain
helplessness that struggles in vain
folds in a crushed paper ...which can never be erased
the crisp originality of first dreams..that reality never brazed..
the first cautious step ...the insecurity in confidence,
the excitement to begin walking...the weakened self defence
in the expanse of my palm..to collect and hold tight..
my most precious treasures..my wrong and right..
a million words , carefully chosen
a dried leaf ...of that winter season
my sketches in time,
my first nursery rhyme,
my notes on life...dated long back,
my dreams , my beliefs...from that sacred stack..
my sea-shells ...my bedtime stories and tales,
my coloring book..my collection of old cards and mails.
the pitter patter of a someday rain ,
the rhythm of a faraway passing train
steps carved out in wet soil,
"wrapped"... a part of me in a silver foil...
I dedicated all this...I put it in a little basket ...
to the flow of the stream i then gave forever..my treasured casket..
no assurance, no confirmation
but I still wait ...in sheer anticipation..
an isolated untarnished optimism demands of me..
to trust that in the turbulent waters...a reflection of myself I shall someday see..
I wonder if it even remembers or thinks..
as deeper each day..my hope and my casket sinks..
I do not seek a forced retrieval..
I do not want a deliberate recital
But someday..I want it back..untouched preserved
my submission of self...that the waters never deserved...

Sunday, March 25, 2007

DISCOVERING "ME"..

In silence..with mometary quietus ..
Contemplate , ponder , discuss
In a single leap of thought..I traverse..
with a single line of poetry ..lands of emotions diverse.
The narrow boundary between love and hate..
The subtle distinction between overflow and satiate..
The slightly skewed self-communication..
A soliloquy ....a "me" in conversation
to pause at every crumple ...to further crease the memory,
every smile or tear captured...to compile the final story..
to smoothen out certain folds..that disturb the process of thought..
to fill in emotions where nothing remains..to calm a thirsty drought..
to arrange..to organise..all in the unwritten chronicles of the mind..
to gather some newer parts of self...to leave some old ones ...behind..
to mourn at what broke..my crystal vase of hope and light..
to remember its delicacy..and my foolish childish delight..
to let some colors in....from the pack of my childhood things
to set free some imagination...borrowed from the gift of wings ..
to hear the echo of laughter old ..
to remember secrets never shared or told..
to smile and cry together...to thus entertain confusion..
to hurriedly edit inundated sentiments...to clear the blurred vision
to rationalize..to sympathise..with idealism wounded and hurt ,
to learn to be accepting....of that occasional speck of dirt..
the half-hearted oscillations about where reality lives,
superimposed upon the creatively crafted ...the perceptions she forcefully gives..
to still learn to preserve and gradually own...
in the guise of circumstance...weeds of thoughts that have grown..
to recollect some..to still feel the anguish
to succumb to the darkness that gnaws..to then fail to distinguish..
to search for pure oblivion....forgetfulness as a defence..
to end the interaction in haste..to welcome a blissful ignorance
This occasional glimpse into those hidden thoughts...
which I not everyday unlock and see...
a little step of my eternal journey with myself...
of someday...discovering "me"...

Thursday, March 08, 2007

TO BE BORN A RIVER ..

The Ganges at sunset looks very beautiful..the rays of the setting sun create an orangish luminescence on her surface....
How would it be to be born a river..and witness this each day...


To be born a river, to wander for destinations,
To just be pure water , oblivious of stern definitions.
Pristine in form , bathed in sunlight,
the calm sheath unaware of the shimmering orange bright,
To carve a path , to leave a mark
colorless in my hands, black at dark.
To witness sunset and sunrise across her vast expanse,
The graceful meandering poses to humble and entrance,
To dwell with the starry skies at night,
To weave dreams of the silvery moonlight,
To be dressed in the silk of an exquisite elegance,
To roar in agony and then the powerless pretence,
To share aquaintance with the bird that flew,
To hum the song of the winter wind that blew.
To dictate the banks, to know their spread,
To lead with wisdom and yet still be led.
To know the boats that glide so swift,
to feel the pulse of the silent currents that drift.
by night, by day,
a constant momentum invited forever to stay.
to have no beginning, to have no end
to discover the pleasure of acknowledging each bend,
to hold in sacred trust , the deep secrets of the land,
to satiate, to nurture, the parched dry sand.
water upon water, thus to feel rain ,
one with itself, the sprinkled easing of pain.
Translucent watery eyes, with floating ,changing dreams,
they own none, just mirrors to the cast themes.
She has a story she never tells,
she shapes a rock but never dwells.
The detached attachment of a wanderer true,
She speaks to heaven's across the blue
She charts her own course , free to flow,
But only of the ocean she must know.
To merge and still contain,
To give up and still refrain.
to own an identity beyond what engulfs her whole,
to exist an existence she casually from the mountains stole,
to mystify with her raw sanctity,
childish anger, sacred divinity
to hold many names , to still elude description
to just tame water and yet kindle imagination.
an enormity beyond what my perception can deliver,
I smile at the evening thought ..."to be born a river" ..

Friday, February 16, 2007

IN CHAOS, IN ORDER ...

"It turns out that an eerie type of chaos can lurk just behind a facade of order--and yet, deep inside the chaos lurks an even eerier type of order. "

What is the limit to the resolution of perception
how to define perfection in understanding precision.
What is the dimension of multiple linked lines of thought,
how to smoothen the differences two different perspectives brought.
What is the limit of order
How to clearly set a definite border.
How to quantify , How to read,
Numbers that have been beyond limits freed.
How to not simply talk of infinity
But be well aquainted in a relation of simplicity.
How to erase the curves of questions,
With that single answer to all their versions.
How to integrate beyond imagination ,
The divide in the continuum of flow, this eerie distinction.
Where this melts , the difference ceases to exist,
Where visions beyond this reality begin to persist,
Where all this converges into a single enlightenment
a single explanation for every inexplicable development.
If I could grasp, If I could know
with an intuitive intimacy, the pattern in which complexities grow.
In calculative deductions, the touch of the artistic,
In the realms of logic, the first steps of the mystic.
to visit this borderline between madness and sanity,
to witness the arrival of a permanent eternity.
To live in that knowledge , to revere its gifts,
The immaculate understanding that never alters or drifts.
Thats all i seek , thats all i want to see..
The underlying mechanism that runs this world of thee.
In chaos , In order ,
in learning , in wonder ,
In humbling inspiration
In my ignorance and its realization.
In whatever beyond possiblity that could ever be..
In all my entangled definitions...just abide with me..

"Familiar, condescending, patient, free,
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?
Heaven's morning breaks, and Earth's vain shadows flee!
Come, not to sojourn, but abide with me."

Saturday, February 10, 2007

THE BOOK REVIEW..

A casual thought, a slight remark,
stern demarcation by a comparison stark,
The smell of fresh print..... the strange delight,
Text read under shadows of a dim yellow light.
Thoughts reinforced, thoughts created,
opinions discarded, ideals venerated .
The book and me , alone.. inspite of the din,
Weaving a pattern of emotions...we thus begin
.....................................................................................

The first page begins with a dedication,
the rest vulnerable and open to interpretation
the ink changes, even the handwriting often,
smudged with tears.. the pages soften.
in so many thoughful mirrors; multiple reflections,
with time some fade, mere optical illusions,
some crosswords confront, some words perplex,
unsaid understanding yields to a vocabulary complex.
The words are known , by meaning well,
But their precise purpose is difficult to tell.
To grasp the core , and leave the rest,
In least words , conviction conveys the best.
flip a few more, still the constancy prevails,
through the entwined accounts, a single theme pervades.
that theme, that crystallised agglomeration,
to dreams, to life , to light : an eternal affirmation.
stories begin , chapters end,
with changing seasons, changing trend,
but a dry petal, leaves preserved ,
bookmarked notes, instances well-observed.
underlined in pencil, some line of thought,
erased after a while, the meaning no more sought.
All these seek a definition beyond it all,
reaching high without claiming tall.
A fruitful journey, the path to realization.
a few digressions , and "self-preservation"
Turn back a few pages, reassurance,
that single binding thread, her presence,
All pages are in white ahead,
And the last has not yet been read.
Enough written , enough told,
dreams shared, this page I fold
...........................................................................

To complete, to conclude, to judge anew,
Time shall be back....to refresh, to renew
these closing lines for" the Book Review".

Saturday, January 20, 2007

IN SEARCH OF..

Khoj

In search of..

an ephemeral eternity,
an artificial tranquility,
cherished silences,
well-meant promises.

In search of..

the moon on a moonless night,
the inner light in the outer bright.
sunshine on a cloudy winter day,
Some childhood games I still can play.

In search of..

the ability to see and discern
the first lesson I am yet to learn.
belief faith patience
beyond words stories pretence.

In search of..

me myself mine
curvature in a straight line.
the supreme equation
the clarity in that single definition.

In search of..

the faith beyond reason,
the never changing season.
the forgotten indictment,
the final judgement.

In search of..

realigned emotions,
vivid visions.
an understanding without attempt,
Acceptance without contempt.

In search of..

The burden of reality,
borne with a humbling tenacity,
Beauty in all simplicity,
Innocent rawness in creativity.
Honesty in appreciation,
A delicately succint expression.

In search of..

The taste of the winds of change,
Circumstances I can craft and arrange.
Illusions that shatter at the first touch,
destinations reached without walking much.

In search of..

the permanent reflection,
the divinity in perfection.
a non-rehearsed presentation,
the first draft of a dedication.

In search of..

amateur painting , jumbled handwriting,
clumsy embriodery, out of tune singing,
unreasonable idealism that clings,
dreams without wax wings.

In search of...

eyes that don't complain,
three dimensions on a single plane.
experiences that don't teach,
empathy without the desire to preach.

In search of..

conclusions for the endless,
dismay in distress,
admissions of blunder that can undo,
the white smeared over the sky-blue.

In search of..

Baffling conundrums , simple solutions.
That Single word , million connotations,
Poetry composed without a thought,
Unstinting support when least expected or sought.

In search of...

the last number I can count,
the most beautiful memory to create and recount,
a rendezvous with life , the every day meet

In search of..
The ground beneath my feet.