who else will fear the sleet
when infused gentian breathes -
across silent roadsides fallen asleep
and phantom blue mountains foreseen;

little did snow know
whom I have never seen
fears come and go
as life exists …

when winter will surely succeed
and questions whoever wins
happily as today, in this full spring
in blue mountains it will recede.

peace rules my house
sans noises -
sans cries -
sans people -
sans voice ….

infact mirrors do speak
and I am awaken by a presence
of something … arr somebody
looking through a glass ...

and …

seldom do I realise

friends can be beyond
a structured being
a structured human being;

strike a conversation
strike one indeed,
and you will hear
playful, interwoven noises
arr sounds I mean ...

but …

then, I realise almost solemnly

peace indeed rules my house
for mirrors don’t speak
or do they … or do I
simply conceive .....

Expressions

ensconced comfortably in cloud’s arms
concealed in her eidetic memory
- from four corners of framed walls;

and as you come nearer, closer
the sense of your fragrant essence
- holds me tight in your lighted gaze;

uncertainty of your first steps
questions my latent desire
- in one moment through eternity;

and let the forbidden evil embrace us
for all nights to come when I am yours
- you the master and I your chosen slave;

Can I make a wish
hold me tight... hold me today ...
for you and me .. yet again.

# pictures taken the night before when it was beautifully lighted by the full moon

Jointer that holds the wooden table
In a living room so naturally -
Empty a while before, whoever noticed
I still await;
- Forgetful …
- Extremely forgetful …

Spring that’s known to rear a life
In a garden so naturally -
Shivering in cold winds
I still await;
- Forgetful …
- Extremely forgetful ….

A beginning too has a loose end
For a new beginning so naturally -
On a curled dirt mountain road
I still await;
- Forgetful …
- Extremely forgetful ….

I saw the wind travel, northward perhaps
Carrying a sealed letter pale and empty -
Sunny yellow window panes
I still await;
- Forgetful …
- Extremely forgetful ….

speaking of those almost prince like;
charm that breathes fresh air
and spreads the bloom,
aye! such talented colours
on spring’s bosom
has blossomed again;

wrought thou my art, almost ruined
few moments ago on a lonely chair,
in a yard where droplets silently
kissed the grass under her small bare feet
and her eyes that held a glance
over the ray floret blushing pink
and a sense of joy under a gray roof
- a little persuasion for winds to woo.

images of hibernal clouds
cling on the terrace walls
a wholesome day of scarce fancy
within lost imaginative prowls;

and the evening’s scarlet sky
assumes infinite scars
with twisted images of an afternoon
curled in an armchair by his side;

amidst mickle of old poems
and few pages of polemic verses
his mind wanders in a coppice -
- star’s search for twinkling lights;

practice makes a man perfect
time on iron board reduced
productive with each event

I can feel,
The shuddering of my heart
When I breathe.

I can feel,
A veil of fear passing through my face
Slowly …
So slowly as if breathtakingly.

I can feel,
A voice from within
Which comes out crying loud
Aye! So loud …
As if the man beside me can hear him
I try to shut him up,
But so adamant is he
He kicks my plea out of the ground
And cries more loudly.

He cries ….
I cannot stay with you any more
For you are incomplete
For you are impotent
I cannot laugh with you any more
Cannot play with you anymore
I can only cry and cry with you,
On this treacherous bed of yours
No, no I cannot stay with you any more.

I try to disassociate myself –
From my foes turned friends –
The trembling hand
The overflowing pessimism
I beckon my friends
Those who are trying to run away
I call them long,
I call them hard,
I make an extra effort,
But why will they look back
I am lying on this treacherous bed,
Being Just crippled …..

- Being Just Crippled (March16, 1996)

I found few change that lay orphaned on the bookshelf. I took a hard look at them for a moment, a little more than necessary, thinking of the least interest I should have in them. But I picked them up anyways.

What world can I buy few pennies
Do I know thy worth few pennies?

What you can buy I can help you decide
Will you follow me undesired?

Few pennies tell me new
Images that lie beyond the dew
And geometric scheme that conspires
Will I bear infinitely supreme powers?

Why then is that undesired
Powers that bore upon your hand
Need not have me conspire.

I looked at the pennies. Three shillings. All of three shillings. With amused satire I thought of power and they looked at me wearing the same attire.

What else can I buy few pennies
If not it's the power that I desire?

My dear friend, my dear friend
Can’t you think of anything but satire?

Will it be peace few pennies tell me
Will it be happiness that I should have undesired
Whose shadows participate in infinite spheres
And yet tell me that I can’t be a sire.

Why then is that undesired
How can I help you find a trodden heart
Whose virtues were considered bemired.

My irritation was now too evident. Pennies that I hardly thought can buy me a cup of coffee were making me question my own desires.

Few pennies, few pennies haven’t I changed
In this convoluting world can’t anew I desire?

You call it a change when left unfulfilled
Over half the tasks abandoned indeed?

Tell me few pennies, tell me last
What can I buy, if not then don’t surmise.

New dreams you dream my friend that I can’t desire
I will help you buy old dreams that left you undesired.

Appalled I stood looking at the three shillings who just bought me my dreams unfulfilled.

(click on the photo to enlarge it)

To lisp in sighs I haven’t had the time, whose breath smells of the brazen wind and flutters the thread of my bare scalp, livid sometimes with my earliest words, in cold nocturnal nights, I the Child bear upon the signs of life a part of that is death and not otherwise

As my fingers weave a little dream
I dare not say whose path extreme
Dare say dare whose strings tremble
Of sheer tumult amidst flagrant ramble

I haven’t spoken of it for sometime now, whose lines crumble and shiver sometimes of sheer pain and sometimes naked wants, needs and deeds succinct, whose lines mark my open palm beside a cold knife’s accompaniment

I will write again and change some path, merge them perhaps or separate, I haven’t had thought of it yet but I know of knows I will leave behind when time shall come and I shall remind.

In the silence of this quite night
When I fail to rhyme …
Play me -
Play me will you;

Hit the strings that bind me and you
And few notes that I taught you …
Improvise me -
Improvise me will you;

When no longer the sleight of your fascination
Extols my celebration of you …
Delight me -
Delight me will you;

Rhyme the rhythm, scale up that quarter note
Look, see me through that resplendent orb …
Surprise me -
Surprise me will you;

And when the chorus picks up, culminating our joy
Hear carefully for that base tone …
Surrender me -
Surrender me will you;

I have lost pain for the sake of happiness and
it hasn’t pained much as suffering had claimed;

The pursuit of happiness isn’t too hard a path
isn’t too harsh a road of untraveled fakirs
and is unlike the guilt of ridding in surreys;

I have lost few senses and some figure of speech
touted of importance which I seldom now feel;

Lost some, gained some and found some memories
and suddenly exulted with realization of only
having played a game and surrendered solemnly;

The pursuit of happiness isn’t too hard a path
for its my right and for rights you never fight;

Happiness is by right … Indeed my and yours solemn right.