Thursday, December 09, 2004

WHEN WE COME ACROSS….. WE COMMUNICATE SO DIFFERENTLY

The conversing eyes..,
Those silent words,
Communication across the minds,
Understood by the heart,
That aura so secure,
That comforting presence..,
No frills, no cover,
No fake masks..,
The liberty of being
…what u really are.
The small words..
and the big smile..,
The beauty around..,
That’s peace to eyes.
The words to different,
The feelings so pure..,
Must be a language…,
That I m not so sure.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

THE LAST WISH

Before I merge into Thee,
A last wish to make…
A last vision to realize..,
A last smile to give..,
A dream long cherished..,
A desire unfulfilled..,
A life unborn,
A handful of earth..,
An armful of joy.
One taste of glory,
A mouthful of sky,
They are the small things I want in my life,
O God please grant me..,
Before I die.

Monday, September 13, 2004

LIFE'S BARGAIN

This is a nice one send to me by a special friend...

" I bargained with Life for a penny,
And Life would pay no more,
However I begged at evening
When I counted my scanty store;
For Life is a just employer,
And gives you what you ask,
But once you have set the wages,
Why, you must bear the task.
I worked for menial's hire,
Only to learn, dismayed
That any wage I had asked of Life,
Life would have willingly paid.
- Jessie B. Rittenhouse

Monday, August 16, 2004

SILENCE SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS

Preface

“Silence is the greatest art of conversation” is what I always remember when I think of this ANGEL-SOUL who always given me strength by their unspoken support, and shown by their action that this shadow will follow me and take care of me wherever I go. This is just to reminiscence and to thank this soul in making me feel “The Most Beautiful Woman” in myself. So, if you are reading this; just “Thank you, for being there, when I needed you the most”
And to all those part of such silence; let me put “Silence is more powerful than words; it connects you with your own self”. In order to listen to this silence, so spend some time entirely with yourself (alone) confronting yourself; and you may meet a Angel which is none other than you.
And those who had been a victim of silence…, for whom the silence is enduring and the words won’t suffice. Let me put it this way that it’s like “Air” we inhale; you can’t take two breaths at the same time. So you need to balance it as if the silence gets longer, it becomes abuse and leaves conversation behind.
I remember someone saying that the person had a negative and needs to be alone some times (n days) in order to be sane. I rather view this as a process to connect to oneself and a healthy approach towards recreation and creative thought building, which can rather make the bonds much stronger and healthier when the person returns back to this world. This silence can be viewed as emotional and mental house-cleaning than to with drawl. And it is very necessary for all of us and is no doubt a quality than a drawback (that’s how the wise people think and say…. Not my verdict ! ).

Silence Speaks louder than Words

The hour long journey,
the confabulation of souls…
breaking the silence which exists no more.
The little talk to scare the blues away,
and the music so soft to let the moods sway.
The meeting of eyes…
With that soft smile…,
Without any words, but does says mile.

Lifting of the lashes,
The lock of the glaze,
lost in a world .., that
may someone amaze.
the surprise so new..,
the admiration so wild..,
the speechless glare,
that can kill even agile.
Then closing the eyes,
suddenly in despair…,
realizing not being
the only one in the scene.
Closing the eyes in order to save,
Coming back to senses so as to behave.
The experience and the occasion
so personal as mine.
not to be shared with all
those aline.
The shine with appreciation
When the eyes lifted back again,
said a thousand words
without any strain…,
the moment to remember
the occasion to cherish,
the wonderful feeling,
of being a charmer.

The eyes met again…
not in admiration.., but this time
in fury… in desperation,
a tear just roll..,
withheld hard,
said the story…
that no one could forcast.
Again those eyes closed
in pursuation…,
nothing is stationary,
take my assuration…,
if not the Good, so neither the Bad.
So why to worry what you had.
See the side where reason still remains,
share your thoughts to minimize the strains,
……..And the sun again rose
from the cloudy sky.
Making the laughter sound as chimes.

The unspoken words said a millions
making me feel one in a billions.
A memory which fails to fade away
when the silence said a a Zillions.

Wednesday, August 04, 2004

RAINS

The pitter-patter
…of the tiny raindrops,
feels as if it is pouring to
soothe down
the smoldering heart of earth
set to fire by the cruel sun..,
over and over again,
with passage of time,
without any mercy…,
without any compassion…,
just to prove the supremacy.
Only did it forgot…
That time is Supreme of them’ all
Reminding each time to ashes,
The fire.., each time
the tiny drop makes a pitter-patter.

Monday, June 21, 2004

THE LOST LOVE

Preface


The “Lost Love” signifies the fight with destiny of a daughter who is separated from her Father who is also her Best Friend.
This poem is a silent but tearful confrontation of this little girl who left in awe with this happening in her life which left her all alone. The father on the other hand also misses his daughter and is doing everything to put back the smiles on her face.
On the Father’s Day, my poem is dedicated to my Dad… Whom I love the most, and I want him to know that he’s the Greatest Dad in the World.

The Lost Love


A little girl
Filled with tears
Empty handed…
stood up in rear.
Where she could feel the presence of Thee…
In all the times that she prayed and weeped..
Stood by the mantle
In the light of the lamp…

God said unto her “Come my Child”
Why is it you so gray n frain,
Seems that you’ve gone through
A lot of pain.
Then the voice rose in anguish and anger,
Who gave you tears in now in a danger !
So tell me my angel…
Tell me why…?
Tell me my child who made you cry… ?

It’s a Dear and a friend,
Who always loved,
Went so far off
After being so close
… said the girl.

A buddy to talk,
A teacher to guide,
A piller of strength
When emotions takes flight.

Without him…
I feel lost and weak
Like the roots cut from a tree.
So Tell me “Good Lord”
What should I Do,
It’s no one other than,
…But just you
Tears come rolling too
in the eyes of Thee.
Took her in his arms
Where the heart beats…
With love, he said ,
“Oh ! my child forgive me please”

I’ve just gone far
To get you some gifts…
So your smile always lifts.

Gifts of love…,
Gifts of hope…,
A Friend like me to be so close,
To live n love you
As much I do.

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

PAIN

Sometimes its good
To let the pain come in
Into the mind, maiming it
Into the heart, hurting it
Till the body is a big mass
Of walking pain – pain that leaves.
Fasting wounds
Dull continuous aches
Unused tears, silent screams
Even through devastating
Let pain come in
To feel alive, to feel human

LANDSCAPE OF IMMERSION

The spring casting retreating Shadows
On the pale and porous walls
A melancholic note touching
The window grills
Stirred-up sad green leaves
Are confused how to confront
Loads of clouds moving around
The sky not knowing
Where to rain
Flirting birds chirping
And asking what happened –
This is the right landscape of immersion
This is what my muted being perceives.

DREAMS

Preface

“Dreams come true, they do” reminds me of the famous lyrics of the album by Westlife. Its is indeed the force that shapes our life and ambitions from which some of them come true and other are left as the unrealized part which can be just met in just “ Dreams” . Framing the sorrows and joys of life, giving the success and pain … drams indeed is a powerful force …. FORCE of life.

Dreams

I know a force
That sets us all in course
To teach, that is beyond our reach
Why we lost, and what we lost,
And what was its cost

This force is called a Dream
And makes us all ecstatic
When in ideal we see,
That, we have reached zenith
And all is bare beneath

Then why devote time in such fancy,
And be belied in reality?
Isn't it prudent to discard such thoughts?
And get down to work in some meaningful plots?

For dreams can give us pain
As they will always go in vain
What life would be then,
Entitled in ugly struggle of men?

Who will guide us in proceeding?
Amidst its dull, drab surrounding?
Will not life come to rest,
And bind us all to our nests?

Only wishful thoughts
Can sustain us in happy lots
Even if these fail,
Will leave behind a tale –
That we strived, and will achieve something
And that makes us a happy being.

MYSTIFIED BY DESTINY

Is there something called destiny ?
If it is then can I believe in it?
To all the signs
it had proved me right….
Or to all those who
…. Proved me wrong …!
Can a coincidence be called a destiny…?
Or a dream come true
…is a answer to it
I don’t know,
….I just don’t know …!!!
I am just waiting for destiny
To solve this mystery
….the mystery called “DESTINY”

Monday, May 17, 2004

IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM

Preface
Sometimes in life we come accross such situations, where it become difficult to understand which bridge to cross and which to burn. Under such flux of circumstances, it become much more important that we search our true self.

IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM

If you have a problem
That bothers you inside
And time does little to assure you
That it will subside,

Then draw upon your inner strength
And formulate a plan
And everytime you think you can’t
Remember that you can.

Listen to your deepest voice
Where reason still remains,
And take control of your own life
To minimize the strains.

Strip away the fantasies,
The negatives, the doubts,
The anger, the hostility
And guilt’s recurrent bouts.

Try to shift into a corce
That’s positive in tone
Communicate your feelings
So that you are not alone.

A pattern of improvement
Is the change that you’ll be winning
If you’ll just let a single step
Become a new beginning

THE RELIGION OF THE WOUNDED SKIES

Preface

The “religion of wounded skies” signifies the attitude of destiny which has become wounded by the pain faced by the one sided romance of a man who gets fascinated by a woman who is a stranger to him.
Before this man could actually feel his emotions for this love (woman), he learnt/ realized that this woman can never be his wife because she has already accrued into bondages of marriage.
This poem is a silent confabulation of this wounded (emotionally) man who is trying to locate this happening in his life which left him wounded.
Ultimately, this man is left with awe and deep respect for the woman who just flashes with purity for her husband.
This is the religion of this poem….


The Religion Of The Wounded Skies
When the nimbus seems gray,
I looked into the sky
Laceratingly inquisitive to destiny… I prayed
To find those eyes
Eyes of a religious woman… a woman about the whom the stars always potrayed
Eyes of love… that love about which I
have no say
Eyes of passion…
Eyes of longing…
Eyes of fulfillment…
Eyes of contentment...
Eyes of love…
Alas destiny ! you seem to stale

Once I came across them but
They were eyes of lust, obnoxious creed !
No that was’nt I was looking for …
……….. authentically indeed.
I picked up the broken pieces of my life
Wounded by those undeserved eyes
Pain prevailed my silence
And I still grayed on with prudence
Did destiny answered my question?
“Yes” She said, “ Offbeat Co-ordination “.

When I was firm … came she
A conscience that manifested destiny in me
But what is it which is casting a spell…
Oh! a tantalized me?
My firmness annihilated when i
Reminiscised to look at he sky
This time “NO”, I said, “Never will I”
Now like bolt comes a look
A look sudden and serene,
swift of course being seen
A look enigmatic indeed
A look which initially never accrued to me
But now I’ll take them to proceed
Look so warm and pure
a look deep, a look so mature
A look… I saw… this time, I said,
“May be I am sure”

Now I happened to see the nimbus
Overflowing with cirrus and cumulous
Happy ? Should I ?
The woman I was looking for,
Is she the destined
Is she the ultimate mine?

She had everything I desired
It was her religiousness
Her sacredness I actually admired
Comes a question now
Is she the one or is
……… she a guide ?
or is she a friend ….
In whom I confide .

Like a thunder struck she
From the sky into me
Into my life now …. ?
Let me see…..
I crossed my fingers, I crosses my feet
This time…. No, I can never accept defeat

It was a look…
Look of a woman
A woman as pious as she can be
She was the one, who saw
….. a man in me.
She was the one, who actually uplifted.
When things seemed wrong,
And I actually quitted.
She who neither welcomed … nor accepted,
But actually faced life.
She had been the one who have been my wife
But destiny begs pardon ‘cause
It isn’t cirrus or cumulous
… of the nimbus
but a flux of circumstances.

Oh! For a second of a thought
Can destiny wipe those tears
Painful, all in all
But sh- oh- she !
She never allowed them to fall
Now waked up the inquisitiveness
And the turbulence never ceases
“I need an answer” said I
Now onwards I’ll never look at the sky
And before I decided with fury
Destiny solves the enigma while,
Being easy.

Before I could ask… comes the answer
A look of sacredness, of purity, of power
A look which was never for my eyes
But for someone else … I cry
Before I did, how gentle was the reply
And if I tell you, you’ll sigh ….

Eyes of-course !
But actually she saw
His eyes in me
‘cause I was following the footsteps
… those footsteps from where the
turbulence flee
into the gentle cascades of time
and eyes that meant to give me a sign
that every rose doesn’t have a thorn
but every thorn have a flower
those eyes met mine with power
a look so in-born
looks of blessings did shower
those eyes provided me illumination
pointing that it is not these
religious eyes which were the
Manifestation of divinity….
…. But the manisfestation of divinity
as in divinity in me
before I caould actually have
taken the look of pure authenticity
I helplessly look at the sky
But what do I see ?
The sky is wounded
By the wounded me ……. !
But behind the wound is not the pain
But the realization of what I had gained.

A rainbow flashed in the horizons
In which the messege portrayed
That these religious eyes taught me
Religion …..
Religion that might have stayed.

LOST AND FOUND

The heart
trembles at the very thought
of those helpless days
when stripped off vast vestige
of self, esteem, each breath
had to be accounted for
each movement questioned
the individual within disintegrating
Under sheer subjugation
In the name of love
Only when
All bods broke
I remembered
The forgotten feeling of freedom
I have lost nothing
Only found myself.