Presence

The waves hugged the shore
as the resting sun slept in the ocean's lap
The night untied itself through my wavy black hair
as I left open each strand for the flirtatious breeze
When my car drove past the sight of the moonlit sea
It was the Andamans where I had seen thee 
The pristine water and the fragrance of the rose
Tis through these that your presence shows

Poetry

Poetry is neither broached nor desperately sought,
It often comes to me when I had least thought
Below my awareness, below my calm,
It shares its marvels with me and unfolds its mysteries
I am the earth, I provide it energy
Poetry is that cloud, thick, pure, divine and dark
It pours on me when i m parched
Long back in my heart I had stored moments
that I thought I had lost in vapor and air,
Now they come back to me  in drops of words,
the threads and knots of the rain song....
Its pitter patter is a symphony of words,
a musical outpouring on my body
leaving a melody refreshed with this bath

An implosion that has scattered me into million particles
particles that bear no resemblance to each other
each one an alien in the same space
each one clueless about what just happened


Can no more call these particles Me
no more are they mine
the split didn't ensure their identity
they no more ask the question - Who am I?
no more do they ponder over thoughts of peace
they have now moved miles apart from each other,
each one in some vague search that wouldn't cease


There's no depth and breadth
and no particular dimension
just unrelated formless elements floating mid air
with suspended judgment and thought
unaware of their own agony,
the one that they had brought


Now all that lives has no life of its own
it keeps wandering in space
reluctant to assume a form
fearing the impending scatter
so it keeps revolving like a comet
that comes close to a certain form 
and leaves instantly feeling the disconnect

Truth-bearing moist eyes pull a lie to wipe them off,

Giving excuses to the world.

Creating a facade of calm and peace,

Hiding the deep yearning,

and mourning of my dead hope.

An observation

Some people are so sensitive to criticism (regardless of whether they show it or not) that the slightest sign of rejection would throw them into a self-created depression where they will mourn alone, keeping more and more issues unresolved, piling them up lethargically only to find a tall heap of fears haunting them later. A weak mind can thus be easily disturbed by blows of varying intensity at different points in time. And what consequently develops is a defensive, protective shield that would definitely protect them at that time only at the cost of alienating them from the loving, supportive people in their lives who show them a mirror. So their worst fears - fear of rejection, loneliness- come true, continuing that same self-created cycle.

Controlled silent tears through wistful nights,

Persistent hope,

Passionate prayers,

And deep sighs -

Seduction is what they all lack!

None of these can bring him back..

A Dream

A series of silent moments..

The candle burns on...

Ecstatic, the flame sways to the enchanting tunes of the waves

The moonlit sea dancing rhythmically

The breeze humming a divine song.

A mystical experience,

It seems a secret plot.

Quietly they catch our glimpses,

our hallowed, soft dark forms.

Hands clasped together tightly,

Assuring each other of an eternal bond.

Our eyes enjoying this piety together.

The temple bells bless this quiet ceremony,

As our souls merge,

Connected through the nocturnal song.

Freezing our 'self' in the moment

Bodies evaporating, though the self lives on... 

Words

Words came first peeping through a key hole,
then knocking at the door..
I granted them permission
exercising my only control.
Sudden surge of power in powerlessness
An exigency, though, it comes with a cost.
But I do not lose such moments.
I adorn them with pleasure and pride.
They leave a deep ecstasy inside.
A short escape that is worthwhile.
In an instant the Cinderella becomes the queen.
Secretly though, within.
It is the shy nude that comes out
in its purest form, magmatic and hot to the core,
as it shoots up to the fore...

Strangers

Being a stranger to someone is not difficult
Everyday we move away from each other
like the stars in our ever expanding universe
Everyday our memory fades
A sea of experiences, wave after wave,
washes the surface clean
In this city distance is not obtained by multiplying speed by time
It is simply obtained by staying aloof across the web of time,
 a formula almost all of us have learnt very well..
Ironically, it is the web that connects this city of loners,
who don't otherwise have time to meet!
Mind numbing indifference is a part of our meal
Every forced morsel a reminder of one's absence in hearts


Words don't flow out of my mind any more,
 they are thrown out with disgust at the overwhelmingly sickening sights and sounds
I just wander on aimlessly, don't expect to find love anywhere,
convincing myself that I don't need any, because I know I wont get any...
So my self just hangs in there in this dead world of life
dragging me on day by day....

Self: Delete

Self: Delete: "So many associationsFutile and absurdSharp hooks ever so hurtingHence I delete! Fragments of picturesCaptors of my desireCruel MagnetsI..."

My teacher

Saw my teacher in my dream,someone who had the deepest impact on my mind. She is one person i have always admired. Awed by her aura. Charming genius! She is a strong woman,deep, intelligent, independent,  and warm. Someone who lives on her own terms. My heart swells with pride on knowing about her achievements.
I so look up to her! A wonderful role model.

I entered a house. It was striking to see an old patchy wall. A series of framed pictures arranged on the observant wall. It is silent, quietly watching over its body of frames. Sometimes with kind and sometimes with cold eyes, it sees all day long. There are cracks on it too...it is blue...getting old by the day. Sometimes feeling burdened by their parasitic existence. They are loud, perhaps excited and charged. They love being that way, inundated by the dramatic chemistry of gods and demons in them. It is mysterious how they all cling together to the same wall.

As the window opened, it let in some breeze and sunlight. In an instant the golden rays illuminated dust particles and each frame glowed, each colour spotted. Beauty lies in these intricacies. The rays never tried disentangling the designs; they were meant to be that way. They simply threw light on them.

The wall, I learnt, later was not simply a witness, not just a host for the parasite-looking frames. It is the experiencer 'herself'. She is the frames and the frames are elements of her self. They give her the power of life. She needs to know that she is beautiful, and different, but alone. She needs to recognise herself which she will when she sees her bright blue eyes in the mirror.

The mirror would complete her incompleteness, that wasnt really there. She was always complete, but she just couldn't see it, because she saw no reflection. The wall and the mirror complete each other, reflecting each other's forms facing each other in the same world.... 

Delete

So many associations

Futile and absurd

Sharp hooks 

ever so hurting

Hence I delete!

Fragments of pictures

Captors of my desire

Cruel Magnets

I delete!

Delete them forever

They are never

a joy, just a continuous throbbing  pain

Hence without any restraint

I delete!

Deletion forced to completion

It is a  void

A crater

So large

It can never be filled

Yet I delete!

Serpentine curves slither away
Slow and steady
in their own little way
Shedding away their old cover
Donning the new
Knowing its life is over
Something known by only a few


Shedding every bit of pain
feeling the element of joy
Keeping the evil away.
Forgiving, curling and sliding on.
Living for the dreams that lay ahead.

I donot hold onto  my love

when it does not want to be held....

Love can only breathe in freedom,
Only felt, never really possessed.

Cherry blossoms remind me of the fresh and fragrant

essence of  love,

pure and undiluted,

simple and basic.

When eyes first meet we know who it is

changed form, but that very self
That very mirror image.

Sometimes, difficult to rekindle the flame

Because of its potential to burn.

Keeping a calculated distance,

Yet knowing every bit of it right from the start..

When convinced that its not meant to be,

Effortful avoidance starts becoming painful..
Self-doubts surface, questioning instincts.. 

Instincts may not always be at their best but they never fail, 

nor does love.

The power of ignorance veils it up, 

Every thread of its fabric simply a reminder of that which 

remains hidden...

Nothingness is not emptiness.

Its filled with divine purity.

Love in a unique manifestation....

 acquiring two Godblessed beautiful forms....

Love is felt in the unseen
depths of surreal bonds

Beauty at its best is only felt
neither touched nor seen

A dream worth hours of silent sleep
Where every turn remembers you

I have started glorifying my solitude
As the moon chuckles away at these moments...

I have woken up to a day where every gloom is pleasure
There is no room for sorrow

That is perhaps the best gift
Dedicated to The Thing Called Love! 

My Friend

Missing my dear friend
All of seventeen
Chubby cheeks
Glowing eyes
Charming Smile

Missing you so much
Though i know you are on this path
Holding my hand as we walk along
Such a moment should never end
Which brings me closer to my best friend

Missing you dearly
my friend
Do you have a book to lend?
May be we can meet and discuss a few things!
May be we can laugh on our stupidities
We can surely wink at each other in mischief
Pat each others' back or give a hi-five
That way we can still b together
And i will get to be with you
And not miss you.....

Days getting shorter and colder
Fogged roads and winter aromas
Sudden repulsion and attraction
Uneven green
Silence amidst the crowd
Wheezing starts as do merry tunes
Both choke the throat equally
Bright yellow walls stare coldly again
At the deserted streets
Sea tides tired with their daily job
Wrinkled moon sighing every night
Hiding its ugliness when it does not shine


Disintegration assuming a distinct form
Decomposing its own self
Material expansion and explosion
Boom!!
And Nothingness remains..
A latent light lying in its shell
Giving birth to birth
Beginning begun in the seed of time....