Tuesday, September 25, 2012

I Dream


The violins string in my ears each night,
As I meet you under a star studded night,
when I seamlessly fall into dreams,
Where the small piece of moon is flowing like streams,

You meet me there every night,
As I meet you only in my dreams every night,
You hold my hand, you hold me in your sight,
You walk ahead my path, you take me away into the flowing light,

I have heard you speak your heart out,
I have heard you walk towards me, like love splashing from a pout,
I have felt your words through the winds flight,
I have felt your warmth, when you hold me with love's might,

But I have felt you leave my side every night,
I have felt my dreams fade into reality every single night,
I have heard my heart beat alone with a solitary plight,
I have woken up every morning rushing into reality with a fight,

And I still wish to love you more by each passing day,
I still promise my heart to dream of you each passing day,
I still wish you all the happiness, even though u stand on someone else's side,
I still promise just dreaming you, without any quests to abide.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Jab Tak Hai Jaan- Rewrite


The zest of your starlit eyes,
The sound of your mischievous laughter,
The twists of your black strands past the breeze,
I shall breathe, I shall dream,

That splash of raindrops on your lips, your hands,
That impatient tear, sliding past your dimpled cheek,
Those fake fits of anger,
Those blunt threats of fists and fights,
Shall beat within my heart,
until the my veins throb,
 until my words tremble,

The sliding of your  hand out of mine,
The parting of your shadow, and sliding apart with the light,
The aimless wait for your back to turn,
The constant urge for your feet to stop before the next turn,
I shall remember, I shall blame,

For all those lies and broken promises,
For all those dreams that burned into ash,
For all those half heartened prayers,
I shall bereave,
 till my chest heaves,
till my eyes gaze,
 till my nights dream,
till my soul begs.....

Friday, September 21, 2012

One Such Sunset


You stormed out,
But you're words willfully held back,
you took away all your promises and leaped out of 'us',
While I stood in silence as your eyes no more looked into  mine;
As your words struck deeper ,

One morning I woke up and found an empty space,
It was within me, and it throbbed with excruciating pain,

Without you, within me,
It felt like I was screaming, loud and shrill,
It felt like I was bleeding tears,
It felt like the world had abandoned me,
All the feelings locked within my cold trembling hands,
hollow eyes, and crisp dry lips,

I was rushing past places.... people....... myself
like an abandoned piece of paper flying down the road,

I was no more mine, I had been your's once,
I was no more living, I was a scattered hope of existence,

I am still standing there, right where you abandoned me,
I am staring at the floor that bid you farewell when I couldn't,
I am standing under one such sun splattered evening,
I am standing alone, looking at one such sunset.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

A Traveler's Confession


Your rails, my ways,
Your wheels, my speeds,
Your trees, my greens,
Your wind,my sting,
Your rain, my gain,
Your drops, my crops,
Your clouds, my shadows,
Your lanes, my cranes,
Your field ,my scenes,
Your farms, my charms,
Your ponds ,my swans,
Your streams, my dreams,
These lives, are strides,
My life, confides,
Without your's, mines' lost,
Mines' alive, on your's cost

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Who do I trust, and whom should I pry?


Who do I trust, and  whom should I pry?
Who should be my call, when my lips tremble dry?
Who should I rely upon,for the saddest day of my life?
Who should be by my side, when  life’s the pinpoint of a knife?
Who should hold me with strength ?
Who should walk along my life’s length?
Who should cry on my stiffened body, and cold blood?
Who should remember me , from the scent of soil, and a mystifying bud?
I know the one who should; but I know he wont ,
I know just,the bliss of dreams , desires just my own,
I know the brittle mirror of reality, where he resides,
I know I walk the ray of sunlight, when I should follow the cosmic tides.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Guru: The Tatva of Living

A giver, a story-teller, someone with bags full of  wisdom to pass along batches of generations, someone with a soft pleasing dialect, and a firm and steady hand, to guide , to deliver, to bring all that is good and worth within the pupils. Having completed my schooling in a Catholic instituion, where any language other than english was forbidden, where menhdi and jewelery were prohibited as were tattoos,long nails,and muddy shoes; uptil seventeen years of age, the image of a Teacher in my mind was the description mentioned above.
It was this teacher who led us through the scolding, thumping system of Indian education.

Up until seventeen years of my existence I was merely acquainted with the Indian concept of a teacher, but time never took me further. This concept, on further bonding, changed the whole ideology, which I had rubbed and ironed regularly in my mind. The Indian concept of Guru. 

The concept which sows the seeds of teaching, first in your heart and lets it branch itself further in your mind. Which embraces, the nuances of the human thoughts, emotions, the whole cycle of functioning in a manner, unique with its results.
The Indian concept allows, not only a Guru to choose his Shishya, but also provides the pupil himself to look after his Guru, with his own pace. A guru is allowed to follow his own way through the herd, to lead each one of them upto their rightful destinations. A Guru is a preacher, a mother,a father,is everyone who brightens the light within each person that shall in any way connect with him . He is not a friend, but a companion. He is the hand that approaches, every time you fall. He is the heart that you trust, he is the sight that you adore. 
The fact that intrests me most in this philosophy was the expansive nature of ways in which this ideology is approached. A Guru, was seen in a preacher, a scholar, a parent, a philosopher, a guide, an artist , a translator, or sometimes merely an idol. The Indian approach, to the overall values of teaching, absorbed all the strata of evolution of mind, heart, body and soul, in a very rational sense.
One was asked to leave his forebonding of family, for a major part of childhood and reside in the Guru's ashram, to learn the art of living. While doing so, not only religious, but social , political , economical, and patriarchal values were induced in the child. 

A Guru was placed, above the placid levels of social bonding, because a Guru was the one who showed the way through the material lodgings, till the horizon of conscience. The western term-teacher, though used exclusively in India in every household, should be bound to our very own stem of the Guru-Shishya parampara.
For those who look down on such a lineage, as a mere tradition, succumb to the ignorant bliss of enveloping once own rich culture, in the brackets of religion.The Guru-Shishya PArampara, was an answer to all the anxieties , troubles, questions that life presented . The lineage was not for a span of those few countable years, it was but, a relation treasured for a lifetime. A person was judged, accredited by the name of his Guru, and not merely by the aspects of name, cast, social status or wealth. 
The philosophers who, desiged this system have imbibed all the characters of, a godfather, a leader, a soulmate, all in this one stature of Guru. 
 But the question arises , as to what effect would such an ideology prescribe in today’s changed pace of living, and the answer still lies in the same frame work. Unless an individual has a real quest for learning , unless he selflessly trusts that one master, unless the social upbringing he has been born into, provides him to the freedom required to give away their blood and heart to an outsider, the results of this ideology will fail . Although the present India, seems to build a reluctant stance to this philosophy, I have come across many like me, who still are drawn to this structure of learning. Especially , wherein knowledge about the Indian Classical artforms ,or  primarily any form of knowledge, rooted in Indian is taken into consideration.

Having know my Guru, for the past few years, I have come closer to finding answers that arise within me , that press upon me from time to time. This parampara, stands by me, and I stand by it whenever, wherever and however required, albe
it for a lifetime, or even more.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Life


Life, beaming in a drop, hanging down a leaf,
Life, that surpasses the shackles of belief,

Life, flowing upon the rigid bed of rocks,
Life, like a standing pile of balancing blocks,

Life, always walks a path along the valley steep,
Life, a warrior against the darkness deep,

Life,  breathing the hearts’ tiny beat,
Life, like the fading impressions of the feet,

Life, that rhymes with the known, and a few unknown,
Life, stands atop the brittle heights of heartless clones,

Life,  to live the worth of each body and soul,
Life, to rest upon after an accomplished goal.