Splash of Love

A pinch of red above the green of the stem ,struck right in the brown ,
what is so beautifull about this friendship, that rose wears the crown,

The white falling out of the pouch over a clear blue behind shades of grass green,
why do these coulours stand smiling, as if to be clicked over a paper with sheen.

The green in its darkest moods, over hills stretching , adorned with chains of grey tar,
Are they friends with the silver rains, that leave them small drops to twinkle as a star,

The bright clear white sublime ice, that sleeps across the silent bed of water,
while the sun visits to polish him with a glow,
and the moon lifts him in a tide's matter,

Across a black velvet that the night drapes, are falling stars that fullfill wishes,
Wishes, of these greens, reds, browns, and whites,
to love eachother like deep divine mushes!

Over the Sand

Your name I worte over a wet bed of sparkling sand,
With the soft tender stem of red rose, whose thorn drew a line of blood down my hand,

The sunlit lines of your name within the crystals brown,
Sparkled within my drenched eyes too,in the clenched drops of the sand it made me drown,

The gushing sounds of the high tide spread a fine silk over my mind,
And I dreamt of our times together, the only hope my heart could ever bind,

The sun smiled over a tear of mine, which sparkled and galloped within your name of sand,
And I lost one more tear , which cried out your name but was deafned by the numb land,

A soft breeze also drenched with the oceans tears flew past me,
It touched me the way you did, through my skin and past my soul , where i could never see,

When the sun was ready to set, it blew me a flowing row of waves,
Which took u along with them, to someone else, to be that one my heart craves,

My tear seeped within the sands, shall be a closed pearl in a shell,
Somewhere in the depths of my life's ocean,
glowing with the sun's smile forever, across the time's tale.

What Mr.Bachchan Gave Me

As I write this down in my diary, I hear the last few minutes of KBC playing on the television,
The streaming voice of Mr.Bachchan, who has always entered my heart through my vision,

I did not follow KBC four days a week, but felt connected every single time I just heard his boice, or saw through a peep,
The Man, with his grace and charm, with his rich textured Sherwani's, always welcomed me with warmth,
With that care, he hugged almost every contestant, each one of them , grinning wide with content in his arms.
He consoled, cajoled, and helped the ladies up the hot-seat, as u were swiped off your feet, with his endearing charm.
His smile, his laughter, and those soulfull phrases, he spoke looking into the camera,
Have all been stored and locked into my mind, although I still fall short of gathering his blissfull aura.

With Panch Koti Maha Mani, he has spread smiles across lives, in the dusty corners across India,
As i saw him asking those questions, and locking those answers, shayad meine bhi kuch seekh liya,
Yes I know he takes crores' per show, yes I know some say the show is fixed,
But, if I choose to believe the passion and love, he has equally spread across the varied sections of India,
If I choose to believe in this incredible human being, every time I watch him across the glass,
I would still loose my mind and heart to this man,
Who is born once in ages, but dwells within hearts, across light-years of winters and springs.

Black Burn

Relationships, too bitter, at times too hasty,
Like a pinch of salt, sometimes like a shot in a glass, burns your insides,
Snaps into pieces, at times even when it isnt rusty,
Its been black like a coal from within, but has been pearl white on the outside,
Throbbing like a painfull nerve, pumping memories dusty,
Like the breathless floods,that snatch even the sensation of pain before you step aside,
Like the empty green forests, wide and sparkling in sunlight,
But damp, dark and a dwindling maze, across a moon-less night.

Random Compilations-2

A tiny bird shoots from the stem, petals held tightly.

One petal enfolds and then all of them fly open lightly.....

Day and night it colours like a flame, under the dusk dew shines brightly............

Just imagine the dew studded rose on the velvet of the stem, and deream gorgeously!!!!

Two lines into the Dark

Sky, it brings the fur of clouds,
white, grey and also drizzling black.

Awakens with an orange wash, to the sun's gold bash,
But at night dazzles wearing black, as now we sleep under starlit zodiacs.

From the Random Compilations

A dove flew into the clouds as it closed its eyes,
The light from his eyes taken to the darkness behind the bright sky,

The body sent back to the womb of its mother,
and his thoughts left to those who shall treasure them llike a feather.

Do not mourn with tears, let the heart help him across life,
where the dove heads, past the darness and shadow into light

Raped Off Life

Draped in a black scarf, she looked across with those matching dark eyes
,She stood waiting for the bus, lone, showcasing no disguise,

Clutching a bag under her arm she sat on a bench ,Gazing into a blank space, she sat hunched with a bent,

A man from somewhere came and sat right in front of her,
Her eyes seemed suddenly alert and her movement quickly stirred,

As the man sat reading a paper unaware of her presence,
She stood up and walked away blankly, her fear devoid of any pretence,

The april heat smeared around her , even though,
She clutched the black cloth tightly, covering her senses sore,

I thought she was shielding herself from every glimpse and sight,
But her eyes had already drowned into the black, blocking every hope of light,

She sat there rocking back and forth, her lips trembling, may be uttering,
Head leaning ahead, but eyes wandering, might even be searching,

Against the black of the fabric, her skin shone brightly in the sun,
But the lining of black against her eyes, smudged throughout her face, like a burn.

The bus honked its way into the station , to an empty patch within her vision,
She stood in a flash with the noise, walked her way through the waiting crowd in unison,

Handling the crumpled ticket to the conductor, which had been hiding in her fist ,
She glanced to the ground all this time, stretching her black sleeve to cross her wrist,

I saw her last, while she looked across the window, eyes still blank,
Eyes that told a tale, of her life which was like a moth eaten plank,

So brittle, she would break any moment,
But the world would never hear her, as her soul was killed silent .

There are many like her, who are being killed everyday,
Right in their homes, with hands that bury them several times in every way,

But they still live life, in this world of love and war,
Dead for any love, and killed by the war which they lose under the sun and the stars.

A Memory

The sun was brightly adoring the fields,
the old and rusty trees lined up against the grain sheets,

The road was smooth and grey,
as i journeyed for my destination accross days,

after a couple of hours every field looked the same,
trees looked alike, steady but lame,

Cities passed, villages stirred ,
bridges were crossed and mountains were swirled,

songs played and replayed in the car,
but the journey sensed so dull than its start,

when just a peep out of the window and a lightning striked across my mind,
as i saw the broken house, its grandeur seemed to be grinned,

I stared onto it, at those rusty windows and moss covered walls,
the leaf strewn porch and the garden looking raw,

I stopped the car and walked the grubbly lane to the house,
dilapidated and left into pieces, i entered it , with the gate shreaking loud,

the place called to me ,as did the broken pots and weeds around the broken bench,
the cracked stairs , the dusty tiles as if were fullfilling my hearts lost quench,

blood rushed through my fingers, as i touched the tinted window pane,
the faded patches colouring the walls nummed my head into pain,

all of it seemed so familiar, every corner and and every shattered door,
the tilted cupboard , muddy platform, brought me images scary and sore,

my feet could not lead me out , and my memories stormed into clouds,
the wind brought warmth , but the dust clogged me into forgotten spiral rounds,

i went through the shards again and again,
and everytime they clasped into me with more strength,

i had experienced something,
but forgotten everything,

as the whirlwind took off my senses, i ran out the rocks into the open light,
my heart skipped a beat , and skin burned as i tore the urge, with a fight,

the journey began again, as i last glanced at the vacant house,
it screamed to me, and i frowned at its sight.

unforseen and irrational was my experience with the place,
who knows what relation i had, when and how, with that dwindling maze,

years passed and memories drained
but yet that warmth of the wind, still remains in some rusty part of my brain.

FOR SOME ONE I KNOW

As the music hummed in my ears,
my eyes closed and dreamed past tears,

His hand held mine, under a fine twilight's shine,
our eyes held each other forever, aloof of the time,

As we walked down the crystals of sand,
it felt like life was rejoicing in the best way it ever can,

The air danced to a waltz,
as he gazed into my face as if i were one of the twinkling stars,

His strength shielded me, his care caressed me,
as our hearts galloped together, into the sun's golden sea,

We stood apart facing our own self part,
the twinkle in our eyes jinxed into the soul, which was broken into two shards,

One was mine, like a dewdrop over a leaf,
the other was his,like a ray of sun, which fell on me , and bejeweled the leaf.

I opened my eyes, realized it was dream,
the man i loved was just across the stream,

The stream which stood us apart,
whose paths i've wandered lives together, looking for a bridge to his path.

A Day to live!!

I woke up with a start, and adjusted my sight to the faint light that
was entering my room through the glass window. The room was dark; I
switched on my mobile to see “5:45 pm” in italics on the screen saver.
I remembered checking the time around 2 in the afternoon; I might have
dozed off some time ahead of that. I moved out of the couch and
switched on the light, to find my room completely messed up, unlike a
girls room, but I never acted normal my whole life anyways. The coffee
mug lay half-filled near the couch, the table was full of cosmetics,
papers, mobile charger, passport, checked in tickets and unpaid bills.
The bed lay strewn with clothes, lingerie, an open suitcase and the
pillows, at odd angles in between all this mess. It was shivering
cold, so I put on a sweater and socks, searching them first out of the
mess. I stepped into the stone cold bathroom, and looked into the
mirror, after more than 3 hours of sleep, I still looked tired,
drained. I washed my face with the cold tap water and planned a whole
lot of things at the back of my mind, in order to clear the mess, not
only from my room but also from my life.
At around quarter to 8 at night, I had cleaned my bedroom, clicked
some buttons on the lappy and paid the bills , vacuumed the kitchen
and the small dining that my apartment could occupy, along with an
empty guest bedroom. I felt even more tired and nauseated, so ordered
for some Chinese food from a nearby food joint. I made myself a cup
of coffee and settled into the balcony of my 12th floor apartment,
overlooking the beautiful and green Nagpur city. This was my ongoing
5th year in the city, I had come into it, as an immature 16 year old
girl, and after 5 years, had changed myself in to a workaholic adult.
Every time I gazed into the twinkling lights of the city, I was
reminded of the good times that I was blessed with, until one and a
half year back. There was hardly any food joint in the city that I
hadn’t been to , there was no road I hadn’t gone through , either by
purpose or by being lost, there was not a day since last 5 years , on
which I hadn’t loved this city, but all this wasn’t alone. I was
always with “him”, we were a couple and were always together, and I
was used to it. I cherished my days, knowing that he was always a
small ride away.
But things had changed; he was now a long ride away. He had shifted to
Singapore, after completing his graduation in Nagpur. He was still
there, around me, but, in my thoughts, on the cell phone, through his
web cam, through his care. I was left alone now, in this city, in
which we had experienced and believed the true magic of love. It’s
weird how sometimes just an assurance of somebody’s presence, can
strengthen you from within. But its absence can also shake your
approach towards living your own life.
I had completed my graduation a year back, completed an additional
degree in English Literature a few months back. I am an artist. I
teach my art, earn money through my art, and worship my art. It is the
only thing, which could take me out of the prevailing pain of being
away from him, no more sharing my life with him. So I worked, day and
night, every moment in which my heart ached for him. I worked,
practiced, travelled, taught, and kept my mind working all the time.
It had been going along for last 6 months. But I wasn’t growing any
better; I was growing more and more weak, not only by mind but also by
my body. I skipped meals, avoided outings, avoided friends, repelled
happiness. Because, all these things reminded me of him. Even my smile
reminded me, how much he loved it. So I despised all of this, and I
worked, day and night for weeks, now for months.
He mailed me couple of times a day, we video chatted, talked on the
phone. But each time, my eyes shed tears, on hearing his soft voice,
on watching his face, on reading the words he wrote. He tried
everything to get me over the pain, the crying, the sadness, but I
wasn’t responding. After so many months, he was finally fed up of it.
He was happy with his new life, though he missed me too, and loved me
the same, he knew the rules of life, of parting, and he played his
role well. But I still held him back, somewhere, into the past, not
letting him welcome the new life which he had entered. It was because
I cherished, our past so much, that I was not ready to let it go. Last
night, we had a long conversation, and he stood by his thoughts, his
anger, and his frustration with me. It struck me like a bolt of
lightning, but I knew since long that it was heading towards me,
although I was not ready to face it. I was still settling into every
word he had said last night, as I heard it loud and clear in my mind.
The doorbell rang, and I could already smell the steaming food. I
fetched my wallet, opened the door for the delivery boy standing
outside, bill in one hand and food boxes in another. I was retrieving
the change from my wallet, when a crisp, dried flower fell down from
it. I took the boxes and held the delicate flower in my hand. It not
only brought back memories to my mind but also brought a lost smile.
It was the winter, of 2009. He was going for a vacation, to his
relatives in Gujarat for two long weeks, just a day after I had
arrived from a month long tour. We had already been out of contact for
a month, and there was still half a month to pass in the same manner.
All the way to the station and till the moment the train started
moving, he kept on retrieving these tiny flowers from, God- knows-
where, and handed me each one of them every few seconds, with as
beautiful words as were the flowers. On my way back to the parking lot
I had around forty of them, dangling in the scarf in which I put them.
It was magic, which held me from crying on his departure.
At that very moment when I was smiling, rewinding the memory, in the
visuals of my mind, I longed for him, just to share it with him, share
the memory with him, all over again. But I restrained. I had switched
off my lappy, my mobile, every possible connection with him since the
conversation, at first out of anger, but later following it as a stern
decision, to recover. I had to make a fresh start; I could no more
lead a deteriorating life, fearing all the time of his memories to
take over my senses, my mind and my life. The memories which should
have strengthened me were instead weakening me. It was discrimination
on my part, at my hands, and it was high time now. I could no more run
away. I knew the way out, I just had to muster courage and walk
through the winding path.
As it had happened frequently since last six months, I put down the
food on the table, untouched, as the hunger had died, in minutes of
its arrival into the apartment. I took my over coat, pulled a scarf
around my neck , locked the house and took a lift to the ground floor
, where in the parking lot stood my new car, the only thing, which in
the last six months had brought some freshness into my life. But my
mood reflected in it too, if it wasn’t for these six months I would
have bought a black, white or red car instead of the brown one
standing in front of me. Colors best describe your mood. Sometimes you
paint them to showcase the mood, the thought. Other times, your mind
automatically shows likeness for the color that best suits your mood,
I had read this somewhere. But I loved it the same nevertheless. I
switched on the heater; the temperature was falling to 4degrees in the
start of December this year. I zoomed my way carefully out of the
circular exit path of the parking lot, and finally entered into the
heavy traffic that populated the wide street. I was going nowhere just
randomly choosing between lanes, signals and flow of the traffic. A
few minutes later I was around the most happening places of the city,
which obviously was packed with youngsters. Though they were just a
few years younger to me, and a few of them seemed of my age too, I
found myself out of place. May be because, all of them had that
energy, enthusiasm, enjoyment in their faces, gestures, body
–language, which was negligible in me since the last couple of months
. But since right now, I was changing things for myself; I decided to
wait, parked the car and waited in it for a moment, thinking where to
go. There was a whole range of shops lined out in the complex. Drinks,
ice-cream, fast food, chat, which was why, this, had been my favorite
hangout spot till just a few months back. I started to slip back into
the innumerable memories I had here, in each of the shops, not only
with him, but also with my best pals. But I wanted to wean myself off
these memories and the sadness they brought to me, so, I did not
succumb to them, and headed out of the car, into the chill which blew
through my face and bare hands.
I chose a comparatively less silent cocktail shop and sat over the
last high stool of the arc in the corner, ordered a drink while
listening to a jazz number that was being played in the background.
The café was mostly occupied by young men watching a football match
going live on the television. There were also a few couples huddled in
the dark leather couches, which were lavishly set against the brown
and burgundy interiors of the café. I shifted my gaze to a loner like
me, sitting a few stools away, staring somewhere far off into the wall
of the café, wearing a tweed black and green sweater. He looked around
my age, with short black hair, and handsome features. Held a drink in
his hand, and seemed to be engrossed in contemplation. My drink
arrived and I shifted my gaze to the drink, which tasted wonderful,
giving me a fresh lime flavor with a pinch of mint. After a few more
glances at him, I ordered another soft drink, and tried to connect
with the music being played. While looking around at the interiors of
the café, I suddenly found him scribbling something on a tissue paper,
carefully and intently. While I sipped down my drink, and wondered
about him, the waitress came to me, handing me a tissue paper, with
something scribbled on it in blue ink.
“To, the gal, sitting five-stools-away,
Stare into your life, just the way you were staring at me, just the
way I was staring into mine a few minutes back. Find the real reason
behind the loneliness you are engulfing into.
Overcome your fear! I just did!
P.S: loners on Saturday nights are very rare but obvious to read,
especially to each other.”
I stared a few moments, at the thin tissue, my breathing surprisingly
scaling high. I dared not, to look around. The stranger had not only
noticed me staring at him, but also read me through. After probably a
few minutes, I stared back at the loners’ empty stool. It wasn’t a
surprise to find it empty, but I looked around and out of the shop to
get a final glance of the stranger. But I found none. I went numb, and
my senses froze. The reality was falling over me; suddenly “his” final
goodbye at the airport, my loneliness, my travel, my ceaseless work,
my grueling life for the last six months, all of it crowded my mind. I
had thrown myself into a whirlwind tornado for the last six months. I
was just spinning around, without any direction, without any purpose.
I had abandoned myself. I wasn’t letting myself to be the real ME, who
was filled with happiness, with strength to face the troubles, and
find ‘good’ in every ‘bad’. Since last six months, I feared the mere
thought of standing alone and facing life along with its troubles, all
alone. My support was gone and I was afraid of falling. So I stooped
low and held myself at one place, unable to move ahead and face, what
life had in store for me.
All this came within me, as is it was hidden somewhere beneath, and
had busted and showered upon me like a fountain. I was drenched with
my own thoughts. I had let the truth come out today, I had faced the
fear which dwelled within me since he left. I felt the same relief and
peace, you feel, when you wake up one sunny morning , after a hectic
yesterday, after a silent night of sleep, in which your body restores
your mind , your body and your soul to make a fresh start to the day .
To leave the past behind and make a new beginning , just the way we
welcome the rainy season after long months of summer. I woke up after
six months.
I drained my glass, and paid the bill. Held the scribbled tissue in my
hand, and stepped out into the cold wind, hugging my body, to restore
the warmth. All around me i could hear laughter, see happy faces. I
could feel a positive aura around me, swirling around with the merry
wind. I had finally found the peace, and the energy, which I had lost
a while back. I was absorbing the positivity I found around me. While
walking back to my car, I looked around into the innumerable memories
I had made in these places, as a teenager, as a birthday girl, as a
mischief maker. I could see him, my pals, and me, laughing, dancing,
chatting, eating, having fun, in different corners of the various
shops, and unlike last six months, I was smiling to myself,
remembering all of them, who were my pillars, my gang. In this passing
moment I realized, that they still were the same to me, and shall
always be. It was me who ran away not them. We would always be the
same, over distances, over differences, and over life.
I sat in my car, and opened the windows, before driving back into the
traffic lane. I was born into this world, in this season of winter,
and today I was reborn into my life, in the same season of
celebrations. Just the way, this city had changed since the time I
entered it, people changed, priorities changed, I changed. Seasons
never change, and so do the love, zest and peace they bring, stay the
same, along with you, forever. The stranger had come into my life like
a breeze. I couldn’t see him coming, nor could I see him leave, all I
had was the message he whispered to me, which brought me back into my
life.
Whenever you lose yourself to something, always remember that there is
a breeze, which will come to you in some form or the other, and tell
you the right path you are meant to be on. Just wait for it to come,
and when it does, believe the message it whispers into your ears.