Eternal Beauty

I admire the beauty if it exists, which would depict an inheritance of my individuality, amidst my blanked out identity; a kind that belongs to me, an accomplice to my soul's anatomy.
Like the pearls shine, white and pure, still unnoticed, subdued in disdain, my beauty lies coated.
I wait, with pains stitched through patience; I don’t bleed like the pearls don’t sweat.
I wait; someday a soul mate will come to plow the sand dunes, to take away the pearls that lie on the way. Then I will be sculptured near someone’s heart, like the pearls will necklace around with love.

I admire the beauty if it exists, which would let me see even when there prevails the darkest dark.
Like the fireflies blink, some far and some near, a timid melody blinks my mind and says a beauty stand by me. I look; with thrills sailing in my veins, drums percussing on my chest, I search the truth in twilight.
I look through my open window, where fluorescence enters and fills emptiness in my eyes. And there I witness a beauty in disguise.

Why a beauty hides in disguise? Why not it pulsates and waves its original vibes? For if beauty is veritable, why doesn’t it finds its accomplice. Why it remains lost and hitches in hands of dust. The extent of hitches has furthered its boundary. My every lookup, every searching ends at obscured vicinity. I lie dormant with no trace for my pair.

Now I want to announce that beauty doesn’t exist. But my heart foolish throbs for it; few impressions of illusions lie forged on the walls. Like the pearls burn in heat under the weight of sand dunes, I glow in flames driven by hopes in my eyes. I want to end my hopes too. But still...
Still, when the heat around churns to near death, snoring thunder in sky reminds of beauty in rains.
And then evokes admirations for a soul mate, who will wash away the heat, and pick up the pearls. I will be sculptured too near someone’s heart, like the pearls will necklace around with love...
                                                                                       
                                                                                        ....And the search for eternal beauty continues

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Take Me Away

Take me away with you

Where warmth of the sand lies

Amidst stillness of lake blue

Where fishes dance

And birds romance

In their songs of enduring verity

They gift me a heart reincarnated

Take me away with you

Where smiles flourish with fruits

Morality manifolds

And circles in roots

Where wind breezes

Stormy undulations exist no longer

Where symphony soothes

Thunder ceases and showers splendor.

Take me away with you

Where my childhood lies

Down the memory lane

Materialized notes again arrive

And in them I could be free

With purity in my soul

My voice would be clean.

Take me away with you

Where all my dreams lie dew

Homes lovely fairies of goodness

My grandma called them true

I want to live and see the goodness

That I never felt

That I never knew.

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An Engineered Snap

I wanted to be an Engineer…But I couldn't get a reputed college. :(
Engineering is one of the most sought branches of education that Indian students prefer. And from the state where I belong to, Bihar, it’s a culture there to dream about getting into IITs, right from the time when students are in their secondary school level classes. But due to huge cutoff of marks, from some reservation related disheartening pricks and because of few cases of bad luck, dreams don’t turn into reality, and such dreams get homed in million hearts with a forget me not note. I happened to be one of them who have faced this. But IITs can never be the ultimate destination. The talent and capabilities you gather through studying Engineering is what the ultimate destination is.

What you had thought? Engineering is going to be so easy?
Once you get into an Engineering college, your hard time starts. The time gets hard because students turn cruel towards themselves, towards their dreams. A stay away from home, with cheers from friends and handful cigarettes with brownish ends, they tip toe on the path they assume to be amusing. With few more inputs, rises addiction; new areas of conversation, new heights of incision. Grooming yourself the right way among such a culture which gallantly exists in Engineering Colleges can be hectic. But it’s a task you must accomplish. Apart from this, other major bullets fired on students comprise from the gun of ‘Time Management’. You need to do loads of things – Classes, Practicals, Projects, Presentations, Assignments, Movies, Outings, Counter Strike matches, Love-Affairs and innumerable other things too. And if you still get some time left from 24 hours well, then you self-study.  Cruel time span when ill managed, it curses students very bad. :( Life inside, when looked from outside, always look magnificent. But the inside story is totally different. If you are an Engineer or an Engineering student then you would be knowing this very well. :P

You must get to know me…Warna main aathon semester tak tumhara jeena haram kar dunga…

You do whatever you like. You can also afford not to study and get few backs in some semester papers. But kindly never get into any kind of trouble with any of your college’s professors/lecturers. :D
This is the first proposition that you must know before you enter into an Engineering college. If you consider not to follow this regulation, then very soon you will get know the setbacks in one way or the other. It is proven and tested formula. :D

Life is full of fun and learning too...

Keeping the bad things aside, let’s look the bright side of life in an Engineering college. The four years will sweep out like the sand escapes from your grip. Lot many numbers of mistakes you will realize and they will form learning and experiences for you. Jerks and shocks make you walk on edgy rocks. Moments of fun do come; may be huge, or maybe it could be some. But at the end of four years I am sure that you will make a collage; a collage of fun you had, not the hardships you faced.

I am going to make a collage too when I end my fourth year. I am still in the middle of my journey; two more years are yet to go. I wish to live my life to the fullest here. :)

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SCATHE

In your stream of meanings, my being in them has changed. In fake hives where your verity lies, your words for me have changed.

Your bare hands I used to hold, tender and soft, in my bask cajoled. In young gloves of perfidy, yours hold on mine has changed.

For grooves in your hair brown, new fingers you have arranged. In shade of blue in your eyes, impressions of mine black have changed.

In all these time skips, trend on your lips, for my name has changed. Beats for me, the place for me in your heart has changed.

Honey! I am still the same; a harebrained, your lover insane. Every knock on my heart sees you, your existence unchanged.

My arms still lie open, to have you back in them. My lungs lie dormant with smoke, looking for your breathe to inhale, to grasp your love unchanged.

I care not where you have reached; I am still there where you left. I am waiting for you in my life deranged, caressing my angel, in your photo unchanged.

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Untitled Love

The wind had smell

A propitious flavor to inhale

When the sky wasn’t blue

Walked there an angel

Her wings were glowing too

A girl in pink

I was in love... I think!

Her golden earrings dance

Blew my mind, lost in trance

Coiffed were her hair brown

And her smoky eyes frown

Often showed dulcet blink

I was in love... I think!

She moved forth

My heart followed

Acting like a tween

People around stood still

Cut in yellow, carmine and green

Then came a symphony  sync

I was in love... I think!

A call, her phone said

Her feet tiptoed, lips moved

Bright red, on the white bed

I saw her finger; a jewel blazing

A kinship; a wedding ring glaring

Sank my heart tween

And even at its bursting brink

I was in love... I think!

Vanished the smell and its flavor

The sky turned back blue

No wings to do the favor

People moved, started the rite

Path trodden, in black & white

No tears! Just little eyes shrink

But I was in love... I think!

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I Am The God

They are all voids
Where you lay,
Shallow are the rivulets
Where you play,
Where the light is faint
And every heart has dent,
Where the honesty is said rude
And cruelty implies being dude.
Do you remember,
The last window you broke?
Not with stones;
With words you spoke.
You have worked hard
And turned rich,
You followed the ways
That preached the leech.
You built ‘homes’ for yourselves,
And ‘houses’ for elderly.
But your homes have voids
And there you lay,
Shallow are the rivulets
And there you play.

You printed my preaching,
Gathered them in Bible
In Gita and Quran,
And raged wars in babel.
I had loved you all,
Never let you ever fall.
I wonder about the courage
You packed in your luggage,
And about the demons you gather,
You turn devilish and raging
And disloyal to your father.
I watch you all
Like a film in a roll,
You haven’t reached heights
And still survive in a burrow.
Your home still have voids
And there you lay,
Shallow are the rivulets,
And there you play….

[I wrote this for Blognostics long ago. I shared it now on my own site. :)]

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Phoning Myself...

Hovering scorns have to be kept aside

With a gush of jolt, 

Determination we must abide.

We have wished to see the unseen,

We can't look back now,

It won’t show the path we mean.

The flow can’t bowel us in his swirls,

We have the courage now,

To pamper the force in its watery grills.

Let our goal caress us on every side,

Let’s wake up now,

And get prepared for the ride,

Our pack exists being the best lets think

And move on to face the powerful tide.

How high it will go, surely we don’t know,

But keep up the will that we have to glow,

We have to show.

Let’s bring back some smiles

From few distant miles;

Let’s set ourselves to bring back the glory,

Let’s join hands to recreate the theory.

We can do very well,

No matter of what others say

And where they excel.

We will bring back,

The treasured and hidden ones

Somewhere from a distant rack,

And that’s our new glory,

We will redefine it

And knit a new glittful story...

[I scribbled this poem long ago when I was about to enter into my college life. I have shared it now, after one and a half year later of my joining in college.]

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Oh Love! You are mine

I wish the sky to show me the Sun today; the sunshine of the first day of February that should have warmth of yours, and the clumsiness that your open hairs had on me. I wish if it could cover my face again. The flowers have already bloomed. I wish them to hold their fragrance good till you hold my hands again. My hands are empty though, but I know you would be holding them wherever you are now. I am waiting for the butterfly you always send, to let me know that you have put your face on my heart again. You had filled the colors daintily on the piece of paper with your lipstick stains in pink; and the nightingale had parceled it to me last year. I am waiting for if she is going to come to me again. I am waiting for if she is going to address me your message –‘Oh Love! You are mine’.

Though you chose to move away, I know it was not by your choice. You said you needed to go, but you had waited for me, I know. I was looking for you too, but couldn’t utter a word about you. The song we composed together stays revived, and it says that you are still here, in my heart where you always hived. This February, I play the tune again that you taught me on my guitar; and it’s my birthday too honey, and I am going to sing Happy Birthday to me myself, because you moved away so far.

How should I blame the fortunes, its him that made us meet; and if we couldn’t stay longer then I must not curse him for this bad treat. I know you would be unhappy too, because you had promised to live with me until I don’t leave. February is just a month, you made its relevance for me indeed. And at this note, I read your note that has your lipstick stains on it and it says ‘Oh Love! You are mine’.

When I walk around in spring, I remember to keep my hold on flowers soft. Tickling my fingers on the rosy petals reminds me of your fingers on mine, and my thumb caressing them slowly. I can’t hurt your hands with my grip hard, and so I touch the flowers soft. Though birds often do the chirruping that may resemble your scolds for me, but I miss the movement of your lips that I used to watch while you kept scolding me.
The tree with our names on it stands intact with his mates even today, but I sit under its shadows alone now. I touch our names engraved on it, and I recall how a girl proposed a boy- ‘Oh Love! You are mine; forever would you be my Valentine?’

[For We Have a Story]

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