The New Sunrise

A familiarity it seems I have

With the moment I am seeing

A conking evening it seems

Feeling the aroma; wishes & smiles caking

I have been through it before too

I have heard the voices similar

People’s handshakes & their chaining.

Pyrotechnic arts and fireworks around

Tiny little bells’ jingling fogbound.

Yes! I recall what it is

New year eve’s flock it is

A welcome to the coming year

Celebration at its beginning.

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Being Aspirer

Who is the one, that has come along,

Haven’t met distress, happiness among.

A seed is sown, a hope is grown

And when it’s a sapling, there comes blabbering

That one day it will grow, fruits it will show

Shadow will be around, pleasure profound.

And then it’s not hope, wider is its scope

Has turned into dream, an auspicious scheme.

Look the difference my friend, in small words I lend

That was the needle, you had selected

To sew your life, that was uncoordinated.

But the finger got pricked; your soul got tricked

Incidents that existed, has made strength go tested.

And if I am not wrong, you weren't played for long

You should be thankful, at least a handful

To the God that’s right, with whom we can’t fight.

What’s so nice, if you continue to slice
You know the pain, as it’s you who has the burn.

Look wider this time; and let life sublime
The life is real, which you must live with zeal,

You can’t skip the bad part, like life in reel.

You have earned something, a lesson to learn.

And it’s already so sad, so why let go further bad?

Copyrights - ANSHUL GAUTAM'S

Images in this post - Google Images Search

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I will come back

A kind of attachment I grow

Where ever I live,

My vacant hostel reminds something

And I dont wanna leave,

This is so, I believe.

However sweet the home is,

A kind of being myself is here,

Like the bolt on the door is.

And I have locked the door

with somebody inside,

And thats my lonely piece there,

Hauling its roar

Calling my name wide.

Why is it so sad

Among the smiles on the pad?

Hey! I will come back,

Wait for me,

Look for my imprints on rack.

I will turn,

With every setting sun,

For you only

My partner at my lonely.

Hey! I will come back. 

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I Am Alone...

On a crowded road,

I walked aside;

They leapt past me,

My existence at hide;

And then escaped a moan,

I am alone…

I got worried,

With their turmoil and despair;

I extended my hands to help,

But they cut them in pair;

And then cried the unfair loan,

I am alone…

I played the game,

Snubbed their rules wicked,

With my rules of moral fame;

But I lost and fell;

And then pained my broken bone,

I am alone…

I fell in love,

With a girl my first;

But she moved away,

Left my heart to burst;

And then screamed my heart sewn,

I am alone…

I don’t know,

How do I feel;

I don’t know,

What’s in the reel;

But then says my mind blown,

I am alone…

Copyrights - ANSHUL GAUTAM'S

Images in this post - Google Images Search

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Delusion of Love...

Once, I lived on a tree,

With everything green around

And other birds pretty.

An elegant view of hillock,

Where lived a little dunnock.

She came here,

Quite near;

She sang for us,

With no fear.

That day should have never ended;

When our eyes had met,

And she had smiled.

Tree had no bells,

But wind had chime,

With a voice so fine,

And a schematic rhyme.

Sunny galore of spring,

Had sent us warmth,

Clung with love in his ring.

And Cupid had sent Raven,

With flowers her favourite,

From garden of his heaven.

That day should have never ended;

When our eyes had met,

And she had smiled.

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I Found A Lonely Me...

Feeble dimmed steps,

Irradiated my eyes

Quilt’s beneath;

Awakened me

From lust in ream,

And broke the infatuated dream.

I moved to see,

I heard some heart throbs;

I found a lonely me.

It looked like day;

Or may be moonlight,

I say.

Fog with desire,

Impounded with ire,

Showed its love,

On my glassy window;

Their sexual intimacy,

Was there at show;

Passion in their cosmos,

Which I couldn’t mow.

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If I Could Fly...

If I could fly,

I would flee high,

Up into the sky,

Where every night is Diwali,

Resides our Almighty,

And his ruling ecstasy.

Where stars are lover,

Of their velvety cover.

Together they form

Constellations among,

Their vast spread out,

Astro miles away,

Their rapping gleams,

And albumen ray.

I sigh,

For if I could defy,

The heated 'Surya',

I would flee high,

Up into the sky,

To lift it up

From the green paddy,

And move it above

Up into the blue howdy.

You have your adorned 'Rath',

But still on every 'Chath',

Why you move slow

And delay in every go?

Don’t make devotees weak,

With your move slow

Again on this festive streak.

Bless us with light

With your intense bright,

Make us brave

And vanish our fright.

Don’t fold our wishes

Into pile of files,

Like those police cases

In our human races,

Which has no ending,

No justice;

And always kept pending.

This time, do some quicky,

Shower us with love

And some happy squeaky.

Or else I will fly,

I will fly high,

Up into the sky,

Where you live in your hive.

I won’t wait

And make my cries thrive,

I have learnt from my races,

So I won’t forget to carry,

A token of bribe…

Copyrights - ANSHUL GAUTAM'S

Images in this post - Google Images Search

(Happy Festive lights, and a very Happy Chath Puja to all my friends... :) )

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My Nanny Granny...

Tucked up in saree nicely

Lit up with makeup lightly,

Fat around with emotions heavy

Lived here my nanny granny.

Does the divinity

And Supreme serenity

Reside in stony deity only?

I asserted

That they belong to my old lady.

With rich inside, and grace allied,

Here lived my nanny granny.

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The Book Seller

Have you ever been alone on a deserted railway platform? Railway platform of small towns always turn desolated by midnight. Flickering tube lights along with gushes of cold wind build a creepy ambience. Well, I am still lucky for having not faced such a situation till now. However I remember one night when I was at such a railway station, and that night might have turned into a haunting for me. Thanks to unexpected arrival of my train on time, and thanks to a book seller I met there.

I was there alone, at Haripur railway station. Nobody was there around except few mendicants in deep sleep, and few dogs that appeared as if they were not alive. I sighed. I looked at my watch; it said it was almost ten at night. My train was scheduled to arrive by 11:10 pm. I once again looked around, trying to find someone that should appear to me alive. I noticed a man near a stall. And he was actually moving. I hauled my luggage and moved towards him. When I reached there, I found that it was a railway book stall, and the man was certainly its owner.

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Oh Time! If you could sublime...

Coveting the time to go slow,

Wishing to hold the moments and dont let them go.

Time is now reminding about my return,

To get ready and go about turn.

Can you not spare me this time?
Let me enjoy more,
I am making castles of sand,
And with playing music band,
I am roaming ashore.
Have some wait,
A nap of relaxing bait.
You move on and on,
You never stop
To regret what’s gone.
Why are you so “unhearty”?
Why you never pity Oh dirty?
Is that so because you can’t die?
Oh Come on! It’s just a lie.
Whom will you live with
If we are not here
To pay you rich.
Leave your taste of lime,
Go hearty, and sublime.
Let us live some more,
Making castles of sand,
And with playing music band,
Let us roam some more ashore.
Are you jealous of our laugh?
Stop your poking,
Trying to make them dwarf.
Be with us,
With our joy luminous,
Don’t cut them away,
With your ticking array.
Let us live some more,
Making castles of sand,
And with playing music band,
Let us roam some more ashore.

Images Courtesy: - Google Images Search

Copyrights  - ANSHUL GAUTAM

 

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My Childhood Shelf...

The floor is now squeaky,

Walls bleached out,

And have turned dingy.

Scribbled with my name,

Stairs look the same.

Frames have gone empty,

Paintings lost their colours,

And Look no more dainty.

I wonder that I still remember,

The key to my room’s lock,

Still tough & as hard as rock.

My room where I lived,

My gloom that outlived,

And I am back here,

With my eyes wet,

Riding my childhood gear.

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Happy Facebooking... :)

Advent of facebook has affected us. It has affected us with our way of living. It has its effect upon the way we used to share our day to day incidents. And the most important effect which I think is, on our friendship with people. It has provided a bridge for friendship. And through that bridge, reaching out people has become very easy.

Now my each morning begins with few tappings on my phone to open facebook, and check for my latest notifications there. Similar is the case with most of us. Just think that if facebook was not around, how our way of living would have existed then? It would have lived then still contemporary. No new quick friends, no sharing of thoughts on a common platform and outdistanced people distanced away forever. Luckily facebook edited our living and made it more social.

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I am Happy...

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For Today, Don't Send Me To School...

Momma! See, it has started raining,

Sky is lightening, flickering,

And clouds are thundering.

Don’t get scared!

Stay calm, holding my palm.

I won’t leave you alone,

Now I am grown up,

And no more a fool,

For today, don’t send me to school.

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The College Fees...

Dripping sweat, itchy scalp companied by drenched ire showcased a vivid nostalgia when I looked around, towards them. This feel was not just about the sufferings during a hot summer day, but it was about the realisation of similar experiences when I had been there, where they are today.
Coming out from Central Library of our college that day, I was astonished to face the crowd as I headed towards the Administrative Building. Was it about another strike for fee hike? No, it could have never been so. College authorities will never welcome masses dressed to kill their motives for profits. “Apnara liney thakun, sobar sujog ashbey”, a security guard instructed them.
Kids there were for admission to B-tech courses for the new batch 2011-2015 in our college. ‘Kids’, because they will be my juniors now.

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I Found You...

Wind blows, Lament slows

Hymns grow, as you show

Your face undimmed

Lambent redeemed.

Sail me away, so far away

I have gone tired

From the oars I sway.

I am befuddled

Cheated & riddled

Don’t let me go low

Or I will die

Wounded from some bow.

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Jai Shri Krishna...

"O Your Lordship,
myself and whatever little bit is mine
in this world and in the next,
all that I now offer on Your lotus feet."

"Just as the ground is the only support

for those whose feet have slipped, 

so also You alone are the only shelter,

even for those 

who have committed offense to You."

"O Shrimati Radharani, 

O Queen of Vrindavana, 

You are a river flowing 

with the nectar of mercy. 

Please be kind upon us, 

and give us a little service 

at Your lotus feet."

**Shubh janmashtami**

(adapted and translated from Sri Krishna Prayers in Sanskrit)

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The ToothBrush…

I woke up. It was actually 8 in the morning. I was still half asleep, when I bugged out my eyes, to ascertain that it was still 5 showing on my mobile.  My flimsy opened eyes alarmed that I went late again. Attempting to hurry, I came out from bed tardily, looked for my specs, and searched for slippers. It appeared very much painful to crawl out from my bed when the weather was so much sleep-friendly. It was mild raining, clouds everywhere, no sun in the sky. With lament mood set, I had to rush outside my hostel room to get prepared for today’s classes. I was just there, near the wash basin, to brush my teeth, where there are hanging electric wires from leaking water purifier. Thinking about to purchase an electric tooth brush this time, I came near balcony to spit out the loads in my mouth, forgetting about what wash basins are meant for. I was just about for it, but then I found there somebody downstairs, an old man.
There was an old man, with tattered clothing and a large plastic bag on his back.

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Welcome To The Real World...

Do you realise your eye brows getting concaved, ears twitching, and larynx ready for vibrations but your brain searching for appropriate words. Even if the brain gets them, still intermits the coordination to prevent you from uttering anything. This situation happens most of the time with me when I need to convey answers to one of the closest friends of mine, who mercilessly spears me with questions. I called ‘Spearing’ because those questions revolve around their personal lives, and giving answers to such, which I impart in form of suggestions, make me feel as if I am interfering with their so happening game.

The game in which we are characters, equipped with powers, weapons and strategies that we gain in the due process ever since the game started. Current status in the game largely depends on us that how well we were playing ever since the commencement. But today, games are never clean.

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Crinkled Pages From My Diary...

June 20, 2011
6:00 pm

It has been more than two weeks of my stay here in Gujarat, at my home on this holiday. The time flows, I realise this well when I have no work to do, no classes to attend. Here in this small room, sheltered with the hot roof, that often leaks during rain, with blistering sun above it, physically alone all the time, I never find myself alone actually. This is so because of the upheaval of thoughts in my mind, creative, supportive and those which are always difficult to share, you want to set them free but at the same time, you find yourself handcuffed and let them remain inside you.
During this period of my holidays here, today it is the first time that I pushed myself out of my blistering hot room, in search of medications for my sores, that weren’t able to heal, because of their captivity.

Its 6:30 pm, sun is still four fingers above the horizon, and I am strolling down the lanes, learning my familiarity with them, that I gained two years back. I used to come here, same streets, two years back too. But then everything was different. Today, I feel an essence of relieve all around. The feel of cool wind, surpass the somatic senses from my sores.

Breeze, without any lease,
giving me ease,
pains to cease,
modifying my crease.
My mind in muse,
body gone loose,
telling me to stop,
but with a comma, and not a full stop.
I move on, on the pavement drawn,
at the time of dusk, I am seeing my dawn,
picking up the husk, smelling of musk,
I make out, how sturdy the time was,
From Dusk, Till Dawn...

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Contemplation

I am not a professional writer, not even know how to arrange my words to make them meaningful, and attract the attention of my spectators I suppose. It is very much essential to make people take interest in you, in your point of view. Because if they are not occupied with your representation, they would consider your truth, even your soul feelings, farting and sick, and hence will go away leaving you behind, letting you go dumb, and speechless.
And me being an amateur at writing, it is very much difficult for me to make my friends understand what my silence stands for, although I seldom found people in my life that I dwelt since I was born and till now, for whom I shall entitle them with the tag of the major word “Friends”.
I believe in the fact that shining of eyes always doesn’t signify beauty inside them; it may also be so because of tears that are embedded in them. Not always the tears of joy.
Smile is the best jewel that human can wear to make themselves look lovely. But who cares about the person who suffers so much to get that jewel. And if some how he gets it, still convulses of anguish, in order to let it remain at its place, because it is very much difficult to hide that it is just an imitation.
I have gone tired of my feelings, my sensitiveness towards the actions that play around me, and I suppose that they are getting cancerous. I have gone tired of making out senses about what I did was right or not. It would seem philosophical and will not tally with the mindsets of friends of ours, at the current scenario, where everybody seems to be “overbusy”; although I am afraid if this very word exists or not, but I suppose my learned friends would have got the meaning of what I wished to say.

I never talk. Please mind this thing that I am not saying that I talk less. My “no talk” doesn’t implies that I show rudeness to people, or there is something called unfriendly nature in me. I am a worthy friend, honest, and very much social as well. My so called “No talk” policy is just to keep up myself with what people do, and not to let them know that I am unhappy with what they are doing, and me myself don’t want to hurt them by pointing out the loopholes in their intentions behind doing so. I know you will find this weird, but I can’t help it. The whole system nowadays has undergone such a change where each thing that people do, makes me raise questions with myself and makes my trust upon them go in grave danger.
I take responsibility to reach the Supremo to make my job done, I do all arrangements, I prepare myself in every aspect that seems within my capabilities. But I always fail to make myself prepared to tell lies, to be dishonest at some juncture where it becomes essential for my job to get done. And consequently my job fails. I come back empty handed. I can’t impress my people, because at current course of time, it is very much difficult to impress people by the help of honesty and truth. I have stopped my attempts of getting myself go crooked as I have realised that they can never be embossed in my soul, because it is preoccupied with my firm impression of truth.

Politeness and realisation of obedience by each other in every relationship is very much necessary. But I don’t find this now in this changed world. May be I am wrong because I had been using my heart to observe these things instead of my eyes, powered up by my specs. People do certain things to one another, by the name of prank they call so, declaring their rights to play them on their friends that more often lead to a hitting sensation in their friend’s heart. But none of them enrol themselves into a serious stroll due to such hip hop events. But I do mind such things.
Now I suppose that you would have agnised why I prefer my “No Talk” policy. I can’t change.
Am I wrong if I think this way? Why have my heart and soul teamed up against my brain? Brain is set for current challenges and latest upbringings, but my teamed up heart and soul sing another jargon. Aren’t our people wrong somewhere? And if they are wrong, how do I assume that so many people can be wrong at the same time. Why do people compromise for things that are not right, that are not healthy?
I want to talk. But don’t know how to make myself talk. If my words made some significant meaning to you, then please do give comments.

GOD SHALL BLESS US ALL
Copyright ©
ANSHUL GAUTAM

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