So Estranged

the retribution for the sins

I walked through the hells corridor

the hot metallic floor where 

the bones melt like candles

I felt no pain, lonely as i walked

No physical torment shall be felt

when ever heart is sore

Is that a blessing 

I think rather not

for Your heart sinks and tears drop

If only I could feel whats outside

to forget whats inside

I feel numb and cold

as I burned in the hell's flame

I wonder is this what I will feel

for the rest of my life

So estranged.............

Present is my home address

I stood there in the broken path

dazed and confused

i dont know the way to my home

nor where do I live

Some said i lived in the past

and others thought i lived in future

but I am dazed and confused

I should tell everyone that i live at the present

but how i could prove them

For the worries have misted my path

and home is far

yet in between future and past

A bus ride

What do i have in this journey
inside the bus looking outside
I am going to my destination with a crowd\
yet i am alone
Not the person on my right
nor on the back knows who I am
But i dont complain
I am as stranger to him as he is to me
He is going as fast as I am , in the same route
to the same place, but we are not alike
but we both want to survive
our silence doesnt make us hate each other
nor our unwillingness to smile
but i ask , why we dont care
about the person who is sitting so close to us?
I can smell his day's work
yet i dont care nor does he
life is becoming so void of emotions
like this bus ride
I dont care any more or less but i am surviving this journey
till the destination is here

waiting for the rain to end

i waited in the shades for
the rain to drop one by one
watching the colors of the bow
dripping with the drops
slowly fading from the sky

days are black and white
colorless , as a soulless man
grumpy and old
yet i have to love it as my own
For you are its creation

 how long do i need to stay inside
waiting for this rain to end
and in the end regret is that we all have
and i am confused to wait or not
For Am I in the right place
Where did my old umbrella go?
why is its clothes so fade
but once in the rain
it doesnt matter
for nobody cares its colors
but you have it or not

the jungle

I sowed and walked, not knowing what
and unaware of the time i kept walking
till one day when time has come to return
i looked back to see that I sowed have grown
into trees shrubs and vines
concealing my path inside a jungle
that so ignorantly i have made
and lost forever without a trail
so i tell my fellow travelers
those who walk sowing
you can be ignorant of your destination
but not about what you sow
For it might become a jungle
that engulf you forever

we are comrades

even if the enemy is imaginary the fight is real
For we are in a war zone
Nobody remembers those who succumbed
who fell or quit before the fight
but the martyrs and the triumphers
who live immortal in their minds
fear not when you see your comrades fall
not when blood drips as tears from their eyes
They had fell not for you to stop
or mourn in their departure
but they leave the burden on your shoulders
as you take the road to eternity
they live in you to see the prideful crowd
For they are the martyrs who made you triumph

the hero in the sky

Where are these clouds running away
but I see one still
letting all pass by him
as if he is waiting here for someone

The wind is heavy, yet how come
He takes his place so still
and raining heavily on a chill drawn day
and yet all the other children's of sky running away


What might he be feeling now to watch all his brothers moving away from him, and he cant move a finger, to freeze in this cold night and then rain and rain and then disappear like he never existed more i thought about him ,i started to feel the coldness of the wind , Its not rain that been falling from him it must be his tears, its not thunder thats been banging it must be his gasps, i went towards him the closer i got it felt that he is int sad, i saw his smile flashing with the thunder which i thought was his sobs , but rather it was his laughters. I looked at him and asked, arent you sad that your brothers are leaving, and you are here alone in this chilly wind. He looked at me and replied
If you start running when the wind becomes heavy, then there wont be a time you stop running, the wind is always heavy and they chose to leave and i chose to stay, and this rain is not my tears as you might imagine, but its my sweat , my perspiration to keep me here. I may die this night , but before i go you will see the colorful crown over my head, The  rain or this rainbow are as good as nothing to me, but for the people down there , for the children down there it means something, once you have the ability to see beyond yourself, you will realise that what ever you are where ever you are, there is still a lot you can do for others, and those who could help others even in their peril, they are called heroes , and i want to die here in this night as a hero, not as a coward who ran away when the wind got heavy ,
when i walked back i asked myself what am I?

A stranger

you dont have to cry anymore little one,
  i find you, you are not alone,
 I know home, far away where these tracks meet
, i shall walk you there,
  dont you see it far and far,
where the sun sets these tracks meet
Mother is waiting for you to come with teary eyes
And papa might be in his seats
looking away into the sky, thinking about your return,
 So lets walk with that weary slippers of yours
 as worn as your mind, ready to break any time now,
you dont have to hide them nor your tears
for i am not here to judge but to take you home
are you afraid of this stranger
who walks  you through this lonely track lying close
in search of their meeting place
where he claims the home is?

My Final Act

For every artist its not the money or the fame but its the applaud , its the cheers that keeps him going on the stage, yes i am on the stage, the light is so intense, i cant see anything on the other side, but I can hear the audience chattering and cheering for my act. its the charge that keeps me alive even when my batteries are down and i havent stopped it since i entered into this stage, i am addicted to it, I dont know whether there have been any other mono act that drew this much crowd, but how much crowd is out there? my curiosity always tried to peep out of this light , but never managed to catch a glimpse of whats out there, So i kept going and going even when my legs hurt, i didn't stop, but i was getting tired day by day, i really felt if some one noticed, someone brought me a glass of water, some one told me its ok to step down, but nobody came and after sometimes, i stopped hearing the cheers, it was there ofcourse but i couldnt understood the way i understood it before, does it worth it, i slowly sat on the stage , i expected the crowd to go mad at me for stopping, but again i heard them cheering, i was confused . Perplexed I was when i got down the stage, and there i saw none but a recorder that been playing the cheers again and again. For all these years what i did for these people or those  who i thought that existed, it didnt mattered, my act went in vain, my tears on the stage , my laughter, my anger, it all have dissolved in the air, but not in anybodies mind.  I walked through the empty corridor hoping that someone will come opposite to me with a smile on his face recognizing it was me who played the act, but i know deep down somewhere i have been fooled and that knowledge is a painful one, but it hurts, even more, realizing that i didn't  know why they fooled me ..........

Pursuit

I was out for a stroll, there was nobody on the way and it seemed odd to be alone in an otherwise busy street. Where did everybody go? I kept wondering how the world became a lonely park, with no kids to play in the merry go round or the slides or the swings, but just me . I can play in each and every ride as long as i wish for nobody is waiting for their turn , but what's the fun in that. whats the fun in not fighting for your place in the ride, whats the fun in not pushing the person in front of you or not been pushed around, and whats the fun in not getting back at them to take revenge. The world seems so still , 

I thought i was alone, but i wasn't,I was terrified when i saw this Ferocious Dog that was staring at me in the corner, blood was dripping from his mouth and his eyes were red, its black fur just added its feral look. O god he might have eaten all the other people, i couldnt think of anything other than running. But he was following me in each and every steps, slowly but never out of sight, his tongue was outside and blood dripping and its muscles jumped in air as he kept pursuing after me, i ran for hours i watched sun going down and coming back, the rain was cold, but not as cold as the winter snow, the dog dont seems to end his pursuit, Am i been hunted? Of all the people that god could have chosen for me to accompany he found this filthy animal. I was wearing down as the day went by, but the dog  looked fit as a fiddle , 

Why am I running ? there is nobody waiting. there is nothing here. And after years and years of  running i finally stopped, Yes you filthy son a of a dog, the messenger of  death i shall give up myself to you , eat me and end your hunger, i fell into my knees waiting for him, and then he came close and close, and as close he came he looked small and small, and then when he fell into my lap, he looked like a puppy. O god for all these years he was my guardian angel looking after me. I have sinned , you are the one who can judge , but i judged this creature with its looks, i abhorred him, yet he loved .

        In  one of that moment while i was repenting he leaped from my lap, and started running, and i saw his head looking back at me with fear, and then kept on running and as of now i know i am his guardian running behind him not so close but not so far. this might be the punishment god has for me for my transgressions, to hate and to love but never too close or together, but alone

leaping towards freedom

I was traded on a slave market
hands in chain leg shackled
yes my freedom is far from reach
yet i shall leap for it even in this chain
but those who think masters
they can try hold me back
unleashing their lashes of criticism
falling on my back
ripping the flesh off with each blow
you can take my blood and pain
but not my will or freedom
because i shall leap
even when your blood hounds
Gnaw on my bones
And i shall reach where i am meant to be
For our freedom is in our will
but not in these chains ............

Daisies on the funeral

I was trekking through the mountains, the sky was clear and the birds were calmly flying back to their nests, but I was far from my home, and I couldn't realize the weather changing just like that in front of my eyes and in a negligent time I watched my heart falling down from my chest to the slopes, I watched it getting crushed in the fall and I could barely see it because of pain , I didn't know what to do, but I ran behind it as it rolled down while cutting every inch of it by the sharp edges of the rocks waiting for it, It felt like swallowing an apple as a whole , this wasn't an apple of sin that Adam and eve ate, but this was an apple of pain. My throat could feel it as it moved to the chest while tears rolled down from my eyes,

I watched my heart running into a thorny bush, and they didn't go easy on it, as the thousands of thorns pierceded deep into the already wounded one i slowly stop feeling it, for there wasn't an inch that been already hurt, and anymore seems to be none, and i was running behind my rolling Heart and  i did lost my tears too, all was going from me one by one and i was in a lonely numbness of being,
I could just stop running and shout out loud to the world asking why me, but i am far ahead of that point to expect an answer from the universe, the universe never answers it has always acted dumb in this drama, so convincingly acted that now i doubt, is it really dumb or dumb only in this script it has written for me, I shall die here running behind my heart, then i shall attend my own funeral with a bunch of daisy in a black Armani suit, i shall lay it on myself,For i knew that there ain't anybody in this world except me who knew that  I loved daisies.....

Absurd

To laugh and to kill
to smile and to think malice
'there is enough perfidy
to win a war
 but are we at war?
what is that we ought to win
Love and peace?
but to sow hatred and conflict
as to reap peace and love
the absurdity of life never ends.

Ants

we march left right left
unto what all we know
yet taking all that we can
left right left
steadily into the cliff
as if like a Que of ants
following the trail
the first one left for us
and at the top
there are no more trails to follow
but to choose jump or not
And yet there, so reluctant
or afraid to pick for us
For we hope some might
Choose what's good for us
But isn't it funny that
all preferred to jump
And yet you want them to pick?

Twilight

which is better? Dusk or Dawn.
Not night or the day
but I reckon twilight
the obscure vague shades of dark and light
and one is concealed inside the other
As if inside the crowd
your throat throbs to give
those deep exhales
and the weight is gaining inside your chest
For you are afraid to be judged
So you  keep a made up smile
but you know the rain clouds will fill your face
And the night is on the verge
So i reckon thats our twilight
In that mist you could be you
while being someone else for others
For in that partial light and dark
no body cares whats your dark eyes give out
But that fake light smile on your face

the slaughter house

when i lie upside down in this slaughterhouse, does the butcher knows i am alive?  my skin has been peeled off, i can see the pink white and red paints he painted on my body, i started to appreciate the art in the pain he painted on me. No physical pain can confront me , i transcends beyond this body, for the mental pain i have already through suffering the anguish and agony of watching my own going through these art has already made me this, i am just a body now , with no pains with no emotions,the world can think to hurt me, but dare not for they will soon be like this butcher waiting to peel off my flesh till my bones are found, nd yet failing to fill my eyes, while i watch with my wide opened eyes, enjoying each and every strike deep into my body, nd i will feed them , my flesh shall slake their hunger, and my blood shall allay their thirst, but i shall have my final laugh, because i have traded my life for theirs and their life is my pittance..

the mind forest

As i tread into those thickets
I wasn't aware for what
For the entry into those
Vast wilderness of loneliness is
But free of tickets
And i was lost in no time
i watched the bush transforming into woods
and life seems to end here in this darkness
i wasnt afraid of death
but i was afraid, if any shall notice my absence
And here caught nowhere to go
there wasnt much i could do otherwise
than waiting for the imminent end
I could laugh at the irony of finding
my end in a place with no ends
but this is not that day i smile outside
when i cry inside....................

Selfless Love

to whom shall these flowers bloomed

wasted in the wind lying to be crushed 

And yet they bloomed with no  complaints

But how this love be so selfless

for they bloomed to live just the day in her hairs

knowing for this day only one might be chosen

yet all ready to die on this one-way street

with head held high in proud of their love

the grave digger

the gate was tightly sealed and
i waited outside the cemetery of memories
it seems like there are no more visitors than I
yes this is the graveyard of my mind

I am waiting to run into the new tomb
of your memories that they buried
I know there is still breath living in it
but the time is running and the gate is closed

So I broke open and flee towards it
dug the grave like a mad man
yea I am mad, blinded by love
but coursed by your dreams
yet cursed to be alone,
and breathing life to your memories

Our living Gods

I know this story about a boy who cried alone in his room, somewhere hiding in the corner crying and praying together for a pack of toffee. He thought he was alone in that room, but it wasn't so, because the next day he found a pack of chocolates waiting for him, He was so happy, not because he had chocolates but his prayer was answered. And then he had the key to every wish, "cry and pray"
  When he was a teen the worth of his tears raised a little bit, then he prayed for a cycle, and just like the magic he always saw his prayer was answered with a motorcycle. Then he became an adult, the worth of his prayers and tears raised day by day, and one day magic was lost, He couldn't find answers to his prayers. He went to the prayer room he looked at the portraits of his favorite god and rained heavily on the floor, bewildered and wondered what difference was there to his prayers that been answered when he was a kid and that been ignored when he was a man.
 I wonder if he had noted the portrait of his parents beautifully adorn with garland hanging aside his favorite god because that's the difference and that's the answers to his bewilderment.

The boy

Jim felt that he had a fever. His hands were trembling and the whole body was shivering of chills. The breeze felt colder than ever before. Jim slowly pushed the gate open and while he was entering into the home, he gave a glance back and made sure nobody was following him. The guilt inside his mind made him to do so. There were questions boiling inside his mind.

Why did uncle fin carried pictures of nude women and men? What where these people doing in the film he saw in his uncle’s laptop? That twelve year old mind was perplexed by these questions.

Jim entered the living room, Susan was concentrating on her knitting, He slipped past her like a burglar into his room. His toys and books were on the floor waiting for him to pick up like any other day. But how could they know that today is not any other day. If they knew jim would never look at them again, would they have loved him more in the previous day? He threw his school bag into the darkest corner of the room and immersed his head into his pillow wondering, if he was a bad person. He didn’t obey what Uncle told him to do, will he tell mother he was disregarding his instructions. Jim knew that his mother would be so angry at him. Jim made up his mind to return to Uncle Fin’s place. He don’t want to see his mother go crazy just like the previous day when he accidently put his dress on the floor.

Jim opened the door and sneaked out, the trees watched him strolling away and there were gloom inside their eyes, as if they read his tomorrows to follow, their heart throbbed to tell him that he is the nicest boy they ever knew, and they looked at their branches in vain , they knew they couldn’t stop him. In the midst of the spring they shed their leaves and there were autumn and winter together in their minds, for they knew he isn’t the boy who is going to return that night.

The girl with the bottle

Just like every day, the bell rang at 8 am. I opened the door with least excitement or was I trying to conceal it deep down somewhere, I should show my emotion, at least to her. Because she is the only person who visits me every day. I took the bottle from her hands, looked into her eyes. I saw her lips curving with a smile. I can smell her body odor, That intense smell of sweat telling itself a story, how she woke up at 4 in the morning, cleaned the barn, took the cattle out for grazing, ....and then at the right time squeezing their breast to barter their milk for her bread. I have never talked to her about her family, but I can imagine from her shabby dress and the blue and dark patches on her face that she was trying to cover up -a drunkard father, a bedridden mother, a younger sister whom she loves so dearly and a brother who left long before she could remember his face ..

I felt an urge to hug her, to kiss her on her forehead,  but what should she think, " I am a pervert " I returned her bottle, after emptying the milk. I made sure that I touched her fingertips just like every day, and like every day, she didn't move her fingers, I know why she didn't move or startled, this one bottle meant a lot to her, and she won't risk losing it. But that one touch on her fingers meant a lot to me than the inrush of blood to a guy's Organ, It was my way of hugging her to tell that I understand you , I feel your pain, and at least for these two minutes that we see, your brother hasn't gone anywhere else. I hope she too understands it one day.

Woman of the Street

I am waiting for my next client, there is still blood dripping from the bite marks the previous one left for me with the hundred rupees, but I don't want to leave this room, This is the only place i feel wanted, there isn't any place else i would rather be, but here. Some can hurt my body,  same may hope to make love. But nobody shall have my heart nor my pain Because I wonder if i have it. Did I sold it with my body? I doubt it, who is so kind to buy a women's pain alone, They won't hesitate to buy the heart, for they can eat it,  but pain? There isn't any emotion strong enough to do that. Lust may sometimes fake to buy pain along with my body, but usually, get deceived to find the pain left alone afterwards
I am not expecting kindness from anyone, but I hope they switch off the light, so that i don't want to see their faces, and imagine that its a nightmare, and scream at the top of my voice and it all ends as quickly as possible. So that I can fall asleep, breathing the pungent smell in my bed born from the dampness of the mixture of sweat and their seamen, but not my tears ...........

(photo courtesy http://www.bughouse.com/artwork/120/r-johnson-art/photography/personal-work/the-prostitute)

the diary of a solitary prisoner

The drape is half opened, the hot rays are sneaking into my room and telling me to wake up, But I can lie down here as long as I wish, I am alone here. the doors are all locked up, and the windows soundproofed, I had stopped crying for help long before that I could remember, there is this numbness of knowing that today is going to be exactly like yesterday and there are no tomorrows to follow. For every day is the same, All I can do to make a difference is to choose the time I wake up from here.
    People would say capital punishment is the worst of all the punishments, but I reckon it's not, but solitary confinement is . You can hope for a person to talk to, and when you look back all you can find is this voidness they left for you. I can spend my whole day here playing hide and seek in this voidness, but soon when I realize that there is not a single soul except me here, the game is over and the day is over, and I can go back and sleep or hope for sleep to take over, but I have to pay the prize at the gatekeepers of dreams, the bribe may cost me hour-long pearly teardrops that need to be shed. Once I was rich and I could pay them without any hesitation, but now I reckon my eyes are getting dry and I am getting poor,
when its all darkness i can crouch in this bed and hold myself tight as if i have something between my heart and hands, but there isn't anything but the breath, I am holding it tight so that I want to live, for the breath is my only hope, I don't want the hope to get away, if it isn't for hope I may choose not to get up tomorrow. But you see the irony ,right?..............

Fly, or Run or Walk or Crawl ,move Forward

Sometimes its hard to be ordinary, we hope for miracles in our life, We hope for an angel showing up on our doorstep and handing us something important, something meaningful. But Define ordinary. What is actually ordinary? Are you an ordinary guy/girl or are you a miracle?

You don't have to answer that, this not an attempt to prove that you are important, that doesn't require a written proof because there is a living proof already, and that's you. The way you walk, the way you see and the way you already are, is a culmination of hundreds and thousands of permutation and combinations happened and is happening inside your brain, but in this century we are too naive to think about it in brain powers, so imagine a supercomputer that does the same amount of calculations as your brain does, imagine the memory size of its harddisk and you think you are ordinary, fancy that.
When you fly above the 75 percentage of rest of us, it's imperative that you look at least once, down to understand how far above have you already flown, rather than looking up all the time. Life is a gift a miracle, the humility to understand it defines how peaceful your life will be, its not necessary that we will be insulated from the vicissitudes of this life, the challenges that we see every day may be beyond our imaginations, and the understanding to solve it may be far out of our reach, and failures in life are inevitable even if we are extraordinary, but the ability to enjoy the smallest of success will keep us going when life is hard, never lose that ability never let it go.
The miracles of this life is not what makes you better than everybody else, But the miracle is to have a full functional body a loving family and  that which gives you a level playing field, so that you can take off from here smoothly. And if you find its hard to fly, then Run , and if you cant run then walk and if you cant walk then Crawl, the important thing is to move forward no matter how hard it is, because there are no destinations there are journeys Only...

The Fugitive in me

I watched these leaves falling 
From the trees we grew together
Were did the heavens sink go
That drained love into my trees
I cant watch  as it goes dry
now I need to go
galloper in me running away
As i am the fugitive
Afraid about the grief to  follow-
And what it could do to mortals
Breaking every inch of me
Leaving to die on a cold breeze night and
Waiting for the mercy of ghosts of pasts

Our gardeners

I wonder how unconditional is our parent's love. This poem is dedicated to all parents, "our gardeners"

I have met this gardener
and he was watering these plants
All these past years
he kept watering them all
And i may ask to him
 for whom shall these grow?
He kept gazing into my eyes
And I didn't understand his silence

These plants did grow into trees
And the gardener did grow old
He died on a Tuesday
and i sat under these trees waiting
For someone who could water them all

And as i sat there waiting
a fruit did fall into my lap
it was sweeter than i ever imagined
 then at that moment i had the answers for his silence
And now,  I am the keeper i am the gardener

April Fool

It was my birthday yesterday,
And as i was ready to blow the candles
the phone did ring and the voice other side told
they need a clown for some rich kid's birthday

I never wash my joker make up
for i dont have money to buy new
so i just need to pack and to leave
leaving my birthday cake all alone

i waited in the boulevard for the car to show up
for i never knew the destination
and i was taken to places of Their wish
But there i was waiting, and they stood me all long

As it was 12 midnight a car passed by me
and they shouted april fool
So i realised no one shall have birthday on april first
but just me, the clown

i walked home wondering why people take us for granted
but i didnt cry , for i dont want the make up to get ruined
I am broke and all alone , but i dont cry
the jokers dont cry , they need to practice laughing
For tomorrow i will be paid for my perfect laugh

taking a stroll down memory lane

i kept walking all alone

so far to , i dont know

and when i am far

I feel i am, were i was

as if i have been here

is this lane of memories

which i lived once

but forgot, 

who could tell?

all those faces so familiar

yet they didnt smiled back

yea i know , they shouldn't

As there is no place in heart

For those who can forget.

Running From

I need to run away
For i am afraid to love
or am i afraid of losing
but running or not running
we all will lose oneday
and isn't inevitable, we all cry
So should i stay or run?
either way we all shall cry...........

death behind the curtains

For a second i stopped breathing and started thinking
do i need to take one more breath and another
then again do the same thing over and over again ,
 or shall i just stop it here . Put a period and write the end,
close my pen and go to bed , and wait for Hades in a dark big room,
 and cry aloud as if i am alone and none is here to hear the sound
'
and in the night i wouldn't be startled or afraid to hear a sound
behind the curtains , He would be ready
And i will tell him that i dont have anything to offer,
with uncontrolled breaths and panting
He wasnt here to console, but
to feel some raw blood on his face

he told, he wants to hear some screams
and pain when he use his blunt instrument
So bewilder i got
i was already in pain,
and how can i give him his share of my pain
So he decided to wait behind the curtains
Till he sees me all brighten up
and he waited and waited , so he grew old and died.

Daisy in the rain

in yesterdays rain i heard a voice calling me
 ,as i walked out , i saw a lonely daisy bloomed,
 in the watery grounds,
i knelt infront of it in that mud and water,
 to give a kiss, and shaded it from the rain,
I dreamed, for that little plant to grow
 and to give me sweet daisys everyday, 
but when the dream was over , i know ,
she is not here to stay for ever,
 but to move on with the next rain
, i am not sad but happy,
 for she has at least bloomed once in my yard,
thats enough for me to remember for the rest of my days
. and these fragrance shall stay with me,
 till my days are over..............................................................

The Caterpillar

i remember what my friend had said
  troubles are great teachers
  But arent they our best friends
  never leaving us through thick and thin

i reckon we are born as caterpillars
eating all those ills into our head
crawling through those pains now and then
and becoming gross and bulky day by day

And fed up of all mediocrity we fall asleep
shrinking into the cocoon of our space
caught in the limbo of our thoughts
and passing through the metamorphosis of our life

but suddenly oneday we are wide awake
spreading the wings we are ready to fly
fly as high as nothing could hold us back
cause we are beautiful than ever before

        today i do agree with  my friend
failures are painful as they always are
but in that ordeal of life
we are transformed into something more

it's no time to quit

The night so scary and lonely,
  And the silence carving the fear,
  But this no time to give up,
  For i have crossed the fence to quit.

  I have heard the whining wind,
  Singing the songs of failure,
  But this no time to fall,
  For i have failed enough

  The course is thorny and stony,
  And the tears have blinded my trail,
  But this no time to quit.
  for the destiny may be a step away.
       
  i will wake the  morning up ,
  just to see the bed of roses,
  But this no time to celebrate,
  For i have dreams nd dreams to fulfill"

Fire Fly

i fear not to follow your steps
for i have flown the farthest of lands
and swam the wildest of seas
only to reach at you
and here you are the flame of a candle
set afire to engulf me
but i fear not to jump into you
for we may die today
but tomorrow we will  be reborn as men and women

The lyrics wish for a life

I wish i could be the note of a voice,
Or the melody of a song.
But i being mere words am soul-less,
Waiting relentlessly for a euphony
, A music that could give me a life

The Trench

i woke up inside a deep dark trench
Or was it a well, but there i didnt find any water
for i felt only the cold stones pressing against my head
looking up everything seems to get clear
There is the blue sky,the white clouds
all i need was to climb up,so thts what i did
slowly steadily one step at a time
and when the sky was just a grasp away
i felt this agony for i know this last step
i am out of this well but am I free?
I reckon life isnt simple at all
All the time we are left in an illusion
that we are one step closer to our destiny
but when i climb this last final step
what surety do i hav for who knows
All the long i was sitting inside a well
Dug inside another deep wide trench.

A refugees tale

I always wondered how hard it would be for a refugee , every once in a while i had to read about people getting drowned in sea, when they decided to cross the borders, Ever since then i wanted to write about them, and today i imagine being one among them waiting for the imminent fate

I wasn't a kite,but i dreamt to fly high
breaking that thread that connects me
to the mother land, cutting away that umbilical chord
flying far away from all these miseries
towards a place where all dreams shall bloom
But my dream came with a cost
twenty eight silver coins for the stranger
who sailed the ship towards the destiny.
was that simple dream of mine-
to live a descent life, that heavy of costs?

But soon my wonder dissolved in the sight
Of two hundred men packed closely in a boat
that allowed me a place thats one halfth of my feet
all my life i never had expected-
A space for my feet shall cost me a fortune
I sold my home , my farmland only to buy what?
you may think i am a fool,but i am closer to my dream
For the world my dream worth smaller than a nine inch space
But its the only thing that i have for now

we sailed day and night standing under the sun and the moon
And only little did we eat or drink
Days turned into weeks and now i had enough space to sit
I wondered where the others embarked
And i know sooner it will be my turn to leave
So that day did arrive with tremendous vigour,
with light works and thunderous sound
For we were caught in a storm in that cold night of december
with more than hundred aboard, our boat decided to take a dip
and when i was gasping for air, closer to the gate keeper of death
I searcherd my empty pockets, just to bribe my way out of this misery

My master

what magic has it in you,
that makes me wonder all about you,
And makes my mind so slender
As i can only keep thinking about you

I feel to break this spell and leave
but living without this magic
seems not life anymore
For once your mind has tasted -
that heavenly elixir of love
Then you are addicted . intoxicated
For now  I am the slave
And you are the master.................

My Butterfly

I should share this dream of mine, i was walking through a garden 

till i saw a butterfly so beautiful and gorgeous flying around me,

 sometimes it sat on my shoulders,

  some times it kept whispering in my ears to give her a company,

  i was glad for other wise mine would be a lonely journey, 

and we travelled together till we reached a two way junction 

and we had to go different ways, as i looked her colorful wings

, deep down somewhere I longed to keep her with me,

 but she so fragile, I am afraid if i touch her then i might crush her wings,

 so i stayed back and watched her flying away from me,

 For loving is not owning but to let her leave - and to fly

The last Day

There is a poem to this day
A verse , that been read many times
the colons and dots, commas and that marks
all been there where i have always known
But these words feel new everytime
even though the tune is the same
And the meaning is unknown , But
These words are what i am here to read
And soon when the words are no longer new
the song will end and the poem is done

Cancer in Kerala and the greatest Irony

"Life is the greatest irony. "

I happened to read an article recently in the newspaper stating how badly the air is polluted by the chemicals thats been excreted by the industries. The life seems to get a halt when the air water and the land that we live get unsuitable for day to day life. I dont need to worry about the air in kerala, thanks to the political parties for their constant labour strikes that hinder the industrialist to give a shot here , but i need to be worried about the food i take. Most of the food that we consume here is rich in minerals metals and toxins .
Why we are deprived of the right to live?
The number of cancer cases that has been reported in recent past has raised to a new level, a level that seem to be impossible for the other states like karnataka and tamil nadu can ever imagine to surpass. Why its getting difficult or them to challenge these numbers set by my state. The reason is the green vegetables, oh sorry let me para phrase it again, the toxic vegitables . They are being exported regularly to kerala and it get so difficult for them to retain it back, for the good neighbours, i mean the vegetable sellers of kerala, are so concerned about the health of the the people of karnataka and Tamil nadu that they wont allow any of the waste to remain there. they just buy it all and sell in my state.
What do they achieve?
They buy cancer and sell it here, we dont have any choice but to buy it for high money. Why are these shop owners so greedy, you cant just question their good intentions.Can we? They are earning to save it for the time when problems hit their family, like medical bills. One need to be sure one is prepared to meet the medical expenses, They need to give the best treatment when their kids fall ill. And ofcourse their children will fall ill(God forbid). And they will get what their father is selling. what are these shop owners thinking when they sell the fruits and vegetables to the poor people of Kerala, that they could insulate their family from these waste and toxins, to make an invisible cloak around them that may repell all these. How stupid!!. Their kids too will go to the milk shake corner, the hotel around the street and they too will consume what shouldnt be consumed and will  fall ill. Then these greedy bastards can pay for their treatment with the money they got by selling the illness to their loved ones
And That is the greatest Irony!!

Lent me your eyes

The search we are on

will we find what is ours?

till we meet , we wont know

whats rightfully mine 

is you and Your's is I

but how much value do i have?

in my eyes i find none

Lent me your eyes ,my love

For i want to see myself worthy

At least for a moment

And if it is not now, then never i will

Hope

I remember going to sleep on a cold December night into my cozy bed ,i remember being happy, was it a dream or rather, was i awake? i cant distinguish between the reality and dream, because it doesnt matter today. For when i was awake i found myself tightly strapped to a chair , there was something pushed deep into my throat and my mouth was tightly gagged. I couldnt comprehend what happened during that short span, between the moment i closed my eyes and i opened it , my life was transformed.

I sat there in that dark room for hours, i wanted to cry out loud for help, but my voice died some where inside me, i asked myself what i did wrong , where it all went wrong? May be sometimes doing the right thing must be the new breed of wrong. After many hours of anxiety , fear and helplessness, i saw the door opening a little, the light from outside was getting into my room , it wasnt opened wide but it was open a little , little enough for the light to crawl into my eyes, and with light a new hope was born inside me, yes some one is coming for me, but then it closed, and again i was pushed deep into the darkness , that voidness

Days went by and the person on the other side came regularly letting the faint light to fall into me and then disappearing just like that.

All those days it wasnt the gagging , the tight rope , or the darkness that tormented me,but it was that 2 minutes , that hope budded inside me with each light ray hitting on me, and then crushing it when the door closed for that day. it hurt me the most.

Even today when the door opened , i knew it wasn’t going to be opened for ever …..

but i hoped …. And hope was the greatest punishment they had for me..

My Regret!

i waited ,and soon it was night
and i hoped for the day to break
but why? For i was sweating
in the hot sun the day has for me
and i hoped for night. but why?
I didnt like the night but still
I waited and waited and then
on a cold chilly night i became
Old. Regretting, hoping for night
And i died on a warm afternoon
Regretting , Hoping for the day

A polished glass window

And Without much thought, i asked myself
Why?
if only i knew an answer ,but.
life happened around me. was i included in it?
or was i just a spectator?
but how come i be a spectator
If i havent noticed whats happening
can someone be so blind when his eyes are normal
like looking out of a well polished trasparent glass
i looked out of the life
I didnt see my life passing away , flowing away
For my eyes were stuck at the distant sceneries
And once i was awake
I am now awake and the polishness
of the glass has been lost
now i can see the images of me in it
but the glass is old
And the sceneries are now all blurred