Teesta... A longing heart for Darjeeling

The messenger clouds carry a bagful of sad messages,

The sad heart turns into fog

And the restless heart turns into Teesta...

The sad messages come to the land of hills and forests

In square boxes;

Please let the heart stay as it is,

As it reads the sad messages enthusiastically...

The clouds carry a map to guide the messenger clouds,

And the twisting roads lead to his house surrounded by gardens.

At the end of the garden lies the main gate

And the rocking chair in the Verandah...

A small strip of sun ray falls on the carpet laid on the bed

The messenger cloud empties his bags there.

The messenger clouds carry a bagful of sad messages,

The sad heart turns into fog

And the restless heart turns into Teesta...

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A Journey to Begin

A person with an immense depth in her heart, 

As it is in her eyes. 

But the love struggles to sink in those depths. 

May be she has turned immune to affection,

That a guy struggles to have for someone.

The herald of emotions come in between,

And camouflage the love that wants to seed in the barren.

But the determined destiny has to come into play,

And the two souls will mingle into one.

For they are in need,

In their wish to prosper.

And that they can make it true when they are together.

The journey is about to begin.

It's dawn knocking on the threshold of their windows.

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In Praise of Memories...

The good. The bad.

He lives them all.

From the bunch of frames,

He admire that young face over and over.

The love. The hatred.

He feels them all.

From the glory of experiences,

The scar shines like the bulb in blur.

The life. The death.

He hears them squall.

From the depths of somnolence,

Life wants to rewind itself with whir.

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Breached

I watched her, enwrapped in the impeccant laughter, and met those dimples on her cheeks.

The depth of ocean seemed short, when my eyes apparently glued onto hers.

I knew her hand from mine will never get away, as she existed for me beyond promises.

Until one day, when I realized my arms never ever existed. I was born armless.

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Ripples

It was love behind the sustained silence, in desire to stay lonely in the bygone fragrance.

It was love in the whirlpool of sensations, frozen behind a cold face, dejectedness in his all actions.

That merriment of his was love, when it bloomed for the first time in his life. That too was love inside, when the heart broke for the second, and for the third time.

It was still love, when his heart withdrew from faith, and stopped to dream anymore.

It's my love for him, as I narrate to you his story. Its story of a wave, which never recovered from the wraith. He rippled till he died, and homed inside the grave.

Love is a game too, only later he realized. You win, you lose, but its love that pushes you to play.

Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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While it rained...

My eyes used to take me till the horizon where a distant tree met the marshy land. I could see people, though scarce in number and outspread on the field, working as farmers for the crop…The crop that would feed them and us. I witnessed how their hard work benefited us, they made grains available for ourselves to buy. Then, I wondered that someday my hard work would help others too.

Interlaced with their sweat, rain washed the land. They ploughed and ploughed, till the land was ready to produce. In the uninterrupted pelting of rain, maverick birds flew through the wind…Some flew against, while some steered along with the wind.  I felt caged with all my defects in the small room at the roof, while children played outside. It was water here and there, and everywhere.

I heard happiness. I saw it too. I saw secrecy in the ambience where each one conspired for a productive tomorrow. Farmers, birds, children, trees, and the God, they unified themselves below the pouring cloudy sky. I felt caged, but they enjoyed. They enjoyed themselves to the fullest, mocking me of the pitiful captivity I was in. Real chains were not necessary, my own thoughts of my defects had made me a slave.

After clouds faded off slowly into the pitch black and while the rain continued, a wise owl obliged me by resting at my window. I don’t remember when my eyes closed and how I leapt into the house of a farmer. But before I could have completed my play with their children, the owl woke me up. He said that he has come to my rescue, to unchain me. ‘The key to your chains is in your point of view’, he said.

The next day was different. I heard happiness and I saw it too. But I became a part of the ambience now. Farmers, birds, children, trees, me, and the God, everyone unified themselves below the pouring cloudy sky, and we conspired for a productive tomorrow. The gloom of grey in surroundings was changed, because my point of view was changed. Keys to the most endured locks lie within us.

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In the praise of Lord Ganesha

I meditate on the glorious Lord Ganesha, clad in sparkling robe, omnipresent, endowed with four arms and a benign smiling face to ward off all impediments.

In all my good and bad, you make me aware of your presence. 
If death is about to come in the next move of the puzzle piece, I shall not be afraid to make it. 

I chant your name no matter what comes now, you will remain the king of all puzzles we were afraid of.

If you liked the photographs, don't forget to 'Like' my Facebook page. :)

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A House at the Grange

Since ages I haven’t been asleep in the lap of insouciance. It has been so long since I was at my home, the place where I grew up. In the ‘Nest’ of ‘Love’, my childhood bloomed. Where birds came and lived and became part of my evening plays, that is my home.

Every morning it was chatter of birds in balcony that woke me up. Their tore up feathers I collected, and preserved them so I could remember them even after they left. Tickle of my small fingers on the feathery head is still afresh in the memory. Where I lived lovingly, that is my home.

By the shade of the back wall in the compound, I recited poems in the afternoon. I weaved stories and played my role with conceit. Mamma’s words went unheard and my plays continued in the blazing sun. Where life was carefree, that is my home.

I don’t wish to win the rat race now; I set myself free from all the responsibilities. I want to travel to the place that soothes me with belongingness. I want to soak myself in the rain of memories from my childhood. Where I will heal myself, that is my home.

Photographs were shot by Canon SX150, Point and Shoot camera. If you liked the photographs, please like the Facebook page. 

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Search for the life

As the train takes me through the darkness

My eyes search for the light,

To find in the thickets

If somewhere the life survives.

Rattling of wheels on tracks,

Keeps me mused and awake

Against the envelope of sleep

Embraced over the stretches of darkness.

Blindfolded on my open eyes

My ears make me see now;

Bridges, tunnels, plains…

All I hear, and in my mind I see.

But where is the life?

That, I can’t see.

I search for the light

To find in the thickets

If somewhere the life survives.

In sky is embellished,

Stars and the pearly moon.

And the rest is swallowed

In the endless depths of darkness

Through which I am moving

And in them my eyes keep looking

For if I can find light.

Who knows…

Somewhere out there the life still survives.

Image Courtesy: Google Images Search

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Cups of Coffee...

Through the spectacle of memories, I see a valley trenched with sweet and sour bygone days.
As if I never knew, how soon all those moments flee.
Happiness and sorrow, we shared them over cups of coffee.
Yours had sugar, and mine didn’t.
You hastened, while I went slower.
Frothed with cream of love, your slurps I remember.
And through them, my stories you would hear.
Saturday evenings were when we would meet and stare at each other endlessly.
My wait for the coming saturday seems to never end.
Just two days more, and we will meet again, we will share happiness and our sorrow again.
I want you to know, but I am afraid.
My endless stories over the cups of coffee, no one would have heard but you.
Yours, frothed with cream and sprinkled with sugar on heart, resolved sweetness in mine.
I owe my sweetness to you.
I wait for the Saturday evening, for our cups of coffee and for you…

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Beauty n Sophistication

In the belittled

Swollen bunch of color,

Grooves lie many

With pungent straying odor.

In one, I lie,

Lies my world

That small you will say,

In the bigger of yours

Do happy you stay?

At peace is life here
Free from sickness' grey,

Expectations we don't keep

And work for the fragrance spray.

Devoid of emotions is inside,

But pain inlays.

Me too, a creation of God...

You call it a beauty

Or a sophistication you say.

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Sacred Touch

Bliss is in your touch,

The feat to heal.

Antiquated is the bond of ours,

In your every touch I feel.

Your pokes… Your pulls…

Your caresses of love

Your every touch I know.

But when I face you

Crimson and blushed I go

Naiveness I show.

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Enigmatic

I twitch the bliss of the virtue

I cramp it hard with pain,

Like a curse you can’t undo.

I learn the bad, I overlook the good

With invincible force of the knight,

I run across the sprawls of the falsehood.

I only hurled Satan’s spell on people

I never uttered a single word to soothe

I am the murderer of Love in hearts,

Accountable for downswing of their mood.

In my kingdom of Darkness

I deepen the reach of the poisonous pool

In which humanity ceases to exist,

And banquets on honesty’s fuel.

Pool’s depth gains with every evil I commit

With every incantation I submit.

Like I am the Czar of affright,

I swim in its every inch

With all my might.

I don’t bear any physical existence,

I am just a fiend of dominance

Inside the hollows of a man…



Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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Chronicles of a Mermaid

Down the waves of Mediterranean

From the blissful eden land underneath

Went forth a mermaid

Above the trauma of the surface.

Taking hold of my hand

Salvaging me from the swirl of ogre

She led my mislaid consciousness 

Into her arms of trustiness.

In the blushed state borne in my smile

I prompted a question

Are you the one, the princess Silken?

In the strobe of divine light she egressed

She carried me somewhere

Out of blindness I wasn’t aware.

Who is she?

Is she the one my voyage was meant for?
...

My lips folded, and eyes partially lit

Tried to whoop the acquaintance 

My senses recollected bit by bit

But not before she stooped

And caressed her nose with mine.

The heiress of those sweetest smiles,

Yes! The lonely fairy she was;

The Princess of the sea!

The sea which inhabits all variants of life

So does she patronize my life sedately.
...

In thorns of seclusion, in deprivation from love,

My heart promised me of your existence

I never paused for a moment 

Being affected in perils of aloofness.

I have sailed through the Pacific

The bedlam of dilapidated emotions

Just to meet you; to be with you hereafter…

Sealed in her kiss

She blew life into me, heal to my injuries

And the storm calmed into bliss.

Entwined in embrace of love

Together we departed for the Promised Land.


Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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A Kid Has Died...

Love is a feeling which can make you do things beyond your imagination. Even if you are creeping into disguise, you won’t notice it clearly before your eyes, as they lie veiled beneath LOVE.
While some take love seriously, others treat it like a game where they should try their hands too. This post is an imagination by me about one such kid, who faced mishap from his mate.

In a cottage at my nearest 

A wicked spell has outraged

Gulped into the darkness of underworld

Infancy of a kid has got caged.

As came the demonic blow of Satan,

The angelic cosmos; tranquil & serene,

In a wink of eyes they all have faded.

Fantastical characters locked inside dolls

Are lying crushed; dead in terrain of remorse.

Anthology of knitted stories held on the shelf

Has fallen off the walls of hope

Cascade of pages have come out

Sucked into the whirlpool of hatred.

Clinking of bells have stopped

Brewing is stillness

A frightening awe has evolved.

Out of scare frozen in my spines

I hurried to shut close my window

But before, a tattered note came flying inside

Inscribed in red: 'my love'
I recognized the kid’s handwriting.

With a jolt of dread, senses riposted

I woke up with pounding heart affrighted.

A nightmare?

Pearls of perspiration rolled off my lobes

Hue and cry prevailed in air

I heard through the window,

'A kid has died'.

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An Odd Invention

Like the way OS drives hardware,

My tender heart drives my actions.

My CPU seldom pauses its function,

Clutched in multiple processes

And deadly thread synchronization.

Endured against suffocation,

Withstanding brute deadlock condition;

I envy that giant-tiny mastermind,

Fabricated into a chip

Named after Intel’s perfection.

My limbs and glands,

Constitute my local connection.

Through narrow bandwidth in my nerves

Runs protocol for communication.

In meshes, in rings, in stars or on buses,

With niggling breaks and data congestion

My dreams sail in intense versions.

Full of exclamations and interjections,

My vision surpasses

Chris Nolan’s ‘Inception’.

Procuring the imagination

Of an unmatched conviction.

With new thoughts’ propulsion

At my solitary mansion,

I head towards tranquility

Drawing my steps towards the invention.

An invention that can help you find

Eternal love for your life 

Exempted of distrust and disgust.

Aided with honesty, and upheld warmly.

And that would be my ultimate innovation;

My blow of life,

Into lives of millions & millions.

Images Courtesy : Google Images Search

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Enviousness

I envy him…

The stealer who sneaked into my vase,

Furtively he lavished my flowers with glam.

With strokes of his magic wand;

Vanished my flowers; their essence scrammed.

I still care and preserve,

The leftover aroma in the emptiness.

I envy him…

As he turned into a giant black cloud,

Hovered above; embraced my love in the night sky.

A tear rolled down, and mingled with stillness in lake.

And soon it rained; emerged an urge to crush my ache.

But I stood low, dormant and lifeless.

I wait for the sky to get clear.

I envy him…

The musketeer who plundered into my home.

He took away all that was mine,

Sweetness on her lips, and her dimpled face in shine.

I wish his musket to kill me,

As her memories couldn’t help me die.

Image Courtesy : Anshul Gautam's - ViBGYOR

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Moonlight

Reddishness in the sky fades,

As the stillness in darkness ascends.

In the slight azure above horizon,

Birds return their homes together,

Flapping up and down their wings in twilight.

The calm and composure in the faint light,

Oozing out from clouds in flow,

Bathes the silent world with affection.

Its moon-face, a token of love for many

And a sign to embark into actions for werewolves.

For me, the face of moon reflects my heart.

I can touch my heart in reflection at lake.

A timid hush, as a comfort and healing

From the day’s tiredness is the moonlight for me.

Photograph Courtesy : Anshul Gautam's ViBGYOR

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The Journey...

Its album ‘Passions’ by Ghazal Maestro, Late Shree Jagjit Singh, playing on my computer while I am typing this. And the lyrics is conforming with emotions once I had. It was my first semester break, and I was going back home, in Gujarat. I had tried to cage my emotions within sheets of my notebook, somewhere which remains in its hideous isolation now.Then, I was different, from what I am now. At least I had tears, and I could spill them when I needed. Now even after million tries, I don’t get any. I wish, if I could feel light, bursting out from the complex lockage in my brains.

I was travelling alone, and I talked with myself all through the journey. And the reciprocation of turbulence of thoughts was imprisoned within certain pages. I stopped by at those pages today, while I was tearing them off before putting them on fire. And the pages read :

I sit still, and scenes through my window ‘pass’ by. 

Like projection of memories on walls, 

Glimpses of my existence in them pass by.

The distant horizon moves with me, like the ultimate goal in my life. 

Hills and its ranges, terrain rough and sprawling solitude pass by.

I watch as a viewer, terrains where I had been. 

Scraped pieces of my loneliness, my jobless thoughts in them pass by.

Rivulets in their topsy-turvy curves, 

Meeting and dividing; behold my soul. 

Kinships I had and pain of their losses pass by.

Away from solitude, my eyes snap at commotion,

As the city in energy passes by.

Of all few causes that put us down,

Million reasons to rise and smile pass by.

The obstinacy to laugh, promises to shine pass by.

The shine is in our goal, and the journey is our road to shine.

I still still, and scenes through my window pass by.

I close my eyes slowly,

Dazzles of glistens, sparks of enticement,

Fervor in my goals ‘waltz’ by.

Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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New Leaflets

Innocence in stipules,

The novelty in its shade

Pigmented in green

Lustrous in rays from Sun,

Waves in the air

Flimsy and translucent leaflets.

Born from the old stem

Brown and rigid,

Textured with experiences

It gained in a long time.

Leaflets breeze joy,

Pacify the previous pain

Sprinkling the newness in air

Freshening the surrounding

With ambiance of liveliness,

Like notes from sitar

Played in an early morning,

Solacing our mind

Healing the anguish

Descending into our ruptured soul.

Who cares, who plucked the leaf

Who pinned the giant in pain,

New leaflets must come

And breathe in life again.

The nature and its laws

Leaflets acquaint well.

Life has to move on,

With the newness, each new day

And prosper towards future

Till the pigment stays green.

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