Spattered Thoughts
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1 ABOUT THE BOOK This part of the whole project, this book, seems to be as demanding as the process of generating the content. I am supposed to tell you that certain poems are inspired from real life incidents, certain from sheer imagination and certain from the to & fro pendulum effect of exchange of thoughts between society and myself. Had I done what I was always supposed to do, then I wouldn’t have written a single letter of this book. A random person’s thoughts & experiences turning into words and after years of waiting to break the cocoon has finally led to a flight which will be solely decided, affected, taken to heights or drowned by you, by the readers. ‘The preface must be interesting enough to sustain the curiosity’ is usually the norm. But what about the content. Many other questions remain unanswered. What this book tries to express is the persistence of one random person living among us to find answers for the matching questions and then turning them into raw perfection as the combination of words, pen & paper merge into one interesting piece. This book has been sectioned into 13 parts, each different from other but still holds the others with the love of a barbed wire on bare skin. Well, after all, if one doesn’t bleed then how can one appreciate a state of no pain & then raise oneself to ecstasy. Therefore the poems must go through the same, for they might be parts of something alive which lives though dead words. I feel funny about ending the introduction
Transcript of Spattered Thoughts
1
ABOUT THE BOOK
This part of the whole project, this book, seems to be as demanding as the process of generating the content. I am supposed to tell you that certain poems are inspired from real life incidents, certain from sheer imagination and certain from the to & fro pendulum effect of exchange of thoughts between society and myself. Had I done what I was always supposed to do, then I wouldn’t have written a single letter of this book. A random person’s thoughts & experiences turning into words and after years of waiting to break the cocoon has finally led to a flight which will be solely decided, affected, taken to heights or drowned by you, by the readers. ‘The preface must be interesting enough to sustain the curiosity’ is usually the norm. But what about the content. Many other questions remain unanswered. What this book tries to express is the persistence of one random person living among us to find answers for the matching questions and then turning them into raw perfection as the combination of words, pen & paper merge into one interesting piece. This book has been sectioned into 13 parts, each different from other but still holds the others with the love of a barbed wire on bare skin. Well, after all, if one doesn’t bleed then how can one appreciate a state of no pain & then raise oneself to ecstasy. Therefore the poems must go through the same, for they might be parts of something alive which lives though dead words. I feel funny about ending the introduction as the thought in my head says “you don’t want to end the introduction! The part which will attract a reader to go into the content. Really! You want to end it?”
But I must. But I must.
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THE DEDICATION
In this part of the book, people usually take names, tell about their inspirations, about experiences, about situations & conditions which dominantly help the book come to life. I am tempted to do that; thanking my family, those particular friends, my critics and the point where I started writing poetry, most of all thanking the almighty for blessings; this is what must do, but I don’t want to do it. This book is a living proof of everything which these few lines will try to say. I will never have perfect words for those both living & dead. As a writer as a poet, I feel helpless to write this part of the book. Hopefully, a day will come when I am able enough to provide words for the worthiness of all those who have supported, both directly & indirectly, to make this dream come true.
I am grateful, from the bottom of my heart, to the string of thoughts & the love of words, both of which have been kind enough towards me in their own unique manner.
Thank you all.
Thank you.
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Copyright © Gautam Rai Grover
First Edition: 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of Gautam Rai Grover, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A lover of photography, possessing inexorable passion for poetry – Gautam Rai Grover hails from the state of Punjab in India. Though a mechanical engineer by profession who also holds a management degree in finance from Panjab University, his actual love lies with words. He began writing out of some inexplicable compulsion to express his inner struggle through poems. Stumbling upon this form of expression was indeed one of the best things to happen to him and as he puts it in his own thoughts “She (she is used for poetry) has loved me back in every possible manner”. He can be contacted at ‘[email protected]’.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
SERIAL No.
NAME
1 Rhymes2 All In All3 Classroom Thoughts4 Something5 Second Eye’s Perspective6 When I Felt Rock7 Rhyme Problems
8 Missing Friends9 No-Rhyme10 For the Unsung Heroes
11 Brave Poor Child12 Too Tired13 Bring Me Back To Life14 And I Stand Upon15 Infected16 My Moment17 Why Should I Control My Anger18 Smoke
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19 When They Come For Me
20 And Another Fall21 And Another Turmoil22 Brittle Orphans23 Me: Divorce Devastated
24 Unusual Commons25 Everytime26 Randomisation Expressed27 Randomisation Intensified28 One Eye Opened29 Hey You !
30 Random Moment31 Digging My Own Grave32 Heart-felt33 Him or Too Much34 Am and Her (1)35 Am & Her (2)36 Am and Her (3)37 And I Still Have A Heart-Break38 Her: A glimpse39 Heart-Said40 When I Miss You41 She, her & me42 Eyes43 When She Said No To Me44 So, She
45 Both46 Iron & Diamond47 Empty Poem48 To Start With
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49 Play50 Design51 Then Who52 Words
53 A Hit54 Has It?
55 Face Beneath The Skin56 Single Footed Walk57 Before Life Gets Faded58 Deaf Listener59 Barefooted Walk
60 Touch Of Mother61 Pride Of Father62 When My Parents Cried
63 Other Face of The Comedian64 Coffee65 There I Go66 Down Under67 That Journey68 On This Road, There I Go69 Child70 The Soul Within71 When My Dead-Body Got Burnt
72 I ; if73 So74 Be it75 Cheerful Sacrifice76 Moment Crumbs77 Glimpse of a Trick
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78 You !79 Untamed Desires
80 Green Grass81 When Sunlight Falls82 Sleep83 Shadows84 Graveyard85 The Moonless Sky86 The Axe87 Ocean & River88
Glance at Fog & Light
89 I am ; Remember90 A Moment91 Fume-In92 Certain Animal93 Again ?94 Assassins95 And You don’t Dare96 Fall Of Guilt97 When Everything Goes Wrong98 Bad Seed99 Don’t Live100 Unlearnt Lesson
101 Fourteen x Two x Five102 Back Again ?103 So, It Begins104 Flashes
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“COME ON IN, LET’S HAVE SOME COFFEE TOGETHER”
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Rhymes
It is a creation,A thought effort transformation,Not just a stroke of pen,Just a spontaneity,A sane insanity,Not a thing,To be done right now or after then.An effortless junction,A thought dipped world,The fight to the final rhyme,A life taking suction,A face of bold,The fight to the life and sunshine.Bizarre vision, an upside down division,The moment of birth,Unlike others, doesn’t need supervision,Nothing else matters, even if it’s a hearth.Fear of no recognition,Beyond a successful ambition,A hit, just a hit,Bring it out, dig in deep,Nothing more or less than a pit,Filled as universe,Empty as vacuum,No forward, no reverse,Day and night rules the carrier,Nothing less than a warrior.
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All In All
It’s a flame across the ocean,It’s a dew drop across the desert,It’s a black-hole across the creation,It’s a failure across the success,All in all,It's just a weak in the strong. Don’t need no consolation,Not your shoulder for the cry,Don’t need no pity filled mansion,Down in numbers, very high,All in all,It’s just a weak in the strong. That mountain-high fall,Instead of running, now just crawl,Instead of proving yes, say no with them all,All in all,It’s just a weak in the strong. Want all the reactions,Some slaps and some submissions,Claws of success and chains of actions,Scratch of comparisons and train of bruises,All in all,It’s just a weak in the strong. All in all,It’s just a weak in the strong.
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Classroom Thoughts
Penetrative vision, spotted collision,An old ray of new idea,High, scratched & loud,Low, subtle & proud. A third eye viewer,Coloured leads,Thoughts becoming clearer,Turn of the dice-holder,Sweat beads,Some hot, some colder. A number,A planned rhyme,That continuous effort,A cut on the side of brow,An energy radiated show,That continuous effort,A scent of time,A number, just a number.
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Something
A beloved emptiness, a peaceful embrace,Like a morning without any weight on eye-lashes,The movement of air, the touch with grace,Like a day with loving lime-light, no backlashes.The ceasing of random thoughts,Inexplicable sweetness,The raising of tender fraught,Nervously rhythm-less,The walk by the ladder,Challenged with non-directionless,The talk with thin air,Sorcerer with prowess.When the glitter gets me down,There’s another filled page,When the ego mocks me down,There’s another claustral rage,When the emptiness picks me up,There’ another celebrated stage,When the peace drives me up,There’s another temporal sage,And always,I am going to ride on.
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Second Eye’s Perspective
A window of muted energy & running words,Looking like a dent in smoothness,Intended to be the place of powers with blessings and swords,During darkness, used as time spent in playfulness.
Two boxes of yet to be befriended friends,In them rests,A few creations, many aspirations,In them weighs,A few writings, many experiences,In them tests,A few attempts, many expectations,In them stays,A few moments, many memories.
A heap in the corner,Chronologically received,Partly a puppet, partly a rebel,That heap getting big sooner,Mono-directionally believed,Partly a Muppet, partly a rebel.
A white painted rectangle on the circle of darkness,That red needle, unstable yet directional,Eleven gold stops with twelfth replaced marking,Two gold needles, missing & meeting, on the circle of darkness,That moment, non-existent yet sanctioned,Eleven gold deceptions with twelfth replaced starting.
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When I Felt Rock
That was just ecstatic.Immeasurable the height,And depth, the immeasurable,Seemed like, I witnessed a fable.Music, is what I breathe,Rock is my blood,Lyrics, are all, what I need,I hope, you understood.Not just a concert is what I am talking about,I play, I hit, I pluck and I shout,You better don’t have a doubt.I am the king of five-six string,Floating in the love of my people,Each of them, plays me, plucks me and hits me,It’s like my favourite solo’s sequel after sequel.My people sing, shout, scream and cry with me,They feel what I feel,They see what I feel,I am in them and they are into me.I hit and hit and hit,And it’s all what I do,My beats beat with the heart-beat of you.Immeasurable the height,And depth, the immeasurable,Seemed like, I witnessed a fable.That was just ecstatic.
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Rhyme Problems
Urge to write is burning,Thoughts and rhymes, all stirred,Distractions, lashing and bashing the door,Topics searched are not concerning,Nothing’s new, as if old times have recurred,Mind is hitting the earth from ceiling to floor.
Puzzled and dazzled feels the creativity today,Words flowing in with impatience,Behind the back, something’s ready to hop up,Knowing, the magic will not happen every day,Fight for rhymes’ final sentence,In front of mirror, without a backup.
The page is still empty,Cannot figure out the pieces,Even with coffee and tea,Cannot figure out, where the peace is.
Blank as ever,Filled as never,Defined for the show,Understood with the glow.
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Missing Friends
I always had that support,With so much of faith and fun,There wasn’t even a single negative thought,But now, without my friends I am like a drowning boat.
Satisfaction proved their presence,When they are around, happiness is like fragrance,But without them,Even loneliness is empty in its essence.
Its beauty holds the relation,It is beyond every tradition,Kind of real life animation,And continues even after life’s completion.
They stood in bad time,We danced in blessed times,We passed the boring time,Without the, I am like a clock showing only the wrong time.
Thought we’ll always stay together,Even in the changing weathers,Not even bounded by relations of sisters and brothers,But destiny blew us away like a feather.
I have the costliest trends,In my life there are no bends,But I am alone without my missing friends.
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No-Rhyme
Energy, aggression, passion,All these roads leading somewhere,Resilience, blood, sweetness,That heart against the barrel of a forty-five,The power of first step,The innocence of being carried away,The hammer-blow of new world,Head-banging nails into the woods of life,Stitching the wounds with gun-powder of tears,Filling the dining table with bulls of fear.Art, artist, artistry,Passion, money-mate, passionate,Rings of fortune denying the grave,Hard-working victim of no-fate,Newly born head, without a shave.Colours of a rebel,Bloody red and biting black,Kiss of a non-angel,Straight down from hell.Revitalizing peace of chaos,Shortest breath of life famous,Enough with the peace,Enough with the chaos,Bang it, kill it, eat it,Be this or be that,Sneak a peek,And for the world, Damn it !
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For the Unsung Heroes
Sing for the laughs, they didn’t get,Sing for the tears, no-one witnessed,Sing for their births and sing for their deaths,Sing for their unending hard-working breaths,Sing for their attitude, never backing down,Sing for their smiles, making smile, a saddened clown,Sing for their moment, sing for it loud,Sing for the life turning, soul splitting blows, they absorbed,They deserve more than a loving crowd.Sing for their pain and their sacrifices,Sing for the helping hand in your crisis,Sing for the sleepless nights, they always burn,Sing for them, who don’t steal money, but earn,Sing for their broken bodies and indestructible souls,Sing for their never falling, unending roles,Sing for their moment, sing for it now,Gather your courage and dare to ask,Who, when and how.
Sing for the love, they don’t get but deserve,Sing for the success, they don’t get but observe,Sing for the rhymes, they make for you,Sing for the lines, in which, they pray for you,Sing for the examples, they always set,Sing for the dance, in blind audience, they never regret,Sing for their moment, sing for it again,For their well deserved and meagerly observed appraisal,They don’t bargain.Sing for their humility, sing for their rare mistake,Sing for life’s icing that you got, when they didn’t get even the cake,Sing for their writings, they never publish,Sing for their palate, which never gets a balanced dish,Sing for their presence, sing for their absence,Sing for their bruises, they got from your fence,Sing for the moment, sing for it ever,Sing for the love, respect and happiness,Sing for that bow, which you’ll give them ever.
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“Brave Poor Child” is inspired from a real life incident and the rest of the lot varies its degree between observation & imagination while trying to catch a
glint of reality.
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Brave Poor Child
Advancing on the ladder, I saw the poor child,Aggression and confidence was that of a beast wild,But his pace, don’t know why, was mild.The poor child was cursed with a mark on forehead black,Was this the proof of deficiency in life of daily snack?Or was it the other side of life’s whack?Now came the reality check,His health was comparable to a ship with completely broken deck.Down came the riches on the ladder,They cruised, bruised and used the poor child,Now turned he, against them, wild,Treated and thrown like the animal’s fodder.Now came the cries of real pain,That soul turned insane,But somehow stood he,Against all odds again and again.Said his soul, never, never and just never give up,Roared he like a lion, stood even against the giant,And now the world was blown up.Held himself tight even in his worst plight,He fought like a knight, with courage at its height,Stunned was everyone at his victory,Then he shut them all quite.Advancing on the ladder, again, I saw the poor child,Aggression and confidence was that of a beast wild,But, now, against him, the pace itself looked very mild.
21
Too Tired
Too tired, To unbuckle,To unhook,To unleash,Still the intrusions are coming in,Like darts,Like arrow in the eye of the fish,Like water thrown into acid,The muscles feel fatigued,The war has gone too far and far too long,Doesn’t feel like a war,Feels like life,Awkward pauses, awkward(er) periods,And the story starts to fall,Like the wobbling of a too fast vehicle,Like the flattened tyres trying to keep the air in,It’s a loss of fuel midway in the flight,Now, there’s no target, just a crash site,Seems away from whatever forms this world,Too tired,For the movement,For the flow,For the initiation,Simply too tired.
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Bring Me Back To Life
Bought myself everything I could,Some clothes, few pairs, a holiday trip and a car,Got myself everything I should,Food, music, caffeine,Dreamed myself everything I would,Family, success, love.
Tried behavioural art,Less talk and few expressions,Detailed criticism with measureless control,Even with loud laughs and a chirping heart,Things were out of their role,Fading away for the unwanted reactions.
Went through the door with a trembling heart,With the beads of fear and a bad start,Saw the devil with the strain in his paw,Faced the music, with the neck in his claw.
Took off that dress and I came down,Lowered to the floor and I bowed down,Felt the whips run through my blood and flesh,Felt the chips stolen away from my peaceful stash,Felt the burst happen and I came out,Thrashed the ceiling with a raging blow,Anger became my stage and destruction was the show.
Bring me back to life,Take off that throne and throw me back with a smile,Put me on the list and bless me with a flight,Burn with fist and make a star of night,Pull off those wrinkles and stretch me for a fight,Bring me back to life,Take off that throne and throw me back with a smile.
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And I Stand Upon
And I stand upon to make them see the only one.
The words still dance between my fingers,And the world still dance,Between the churches to mobsters to the executioner bell ringers,What to think and what not to think,I caught your within the blink.
It’s frantic on the road,I have stripped away my moods,Desolated into desires,Running in hard and hitting fires,And I stand upon to see the burning liars.
It’s been fun to pierce kill,For every night, there’s no sleeping pill,Wish I make and wish you take,The desire you wish for,Keeps your will.
Oh ! You can’t take my breath,Oh ! You can’t spill my sweat,No, no, no,I am neither the virtue nor the desire,I can be tornado or a volcanic fire.
And I stand upon to give fare-thee-well to the only one.
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InfectedThese winds are dissecting me through,I am feeling like being eaten up inside.Pain is immense,But I am dying to feel the scalpel of this ocean’s water within my body’s fence.Waves coming on, want to play,In this ocean, I am floating numb and stray.
Water enters the body,For the blood, making it too much rowdy,Scared and terrified, my blood is running away,I can’t hold it, I can’t stop it,But trying to live as long as I can stay.Now, this chilling water is dissecting me from within and through,I am feeling like being eaten up inside.
I feel my blood being separated from within my own,If I am going to die, no-one’s going to mourn, But still,I would like to have, floating in this ocean, my own tombstone.I felt that I collapsed,But, to my surprise,Everything became numb as the time elapsed.
I felt my eyes opened after thousands of years of sleep,The chilling water was within me very deep,My heart pumped it,My body felt it,And I saw the death weep,As I got my life back in heap.In this darkness,I, myself was the only hope,Even though I stood very light,But now,It’s my time to give this world a breath- taking fight.
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My Moment
There were many places,At which I could have been,But I chose this one,There were many races,At which I could have been,But I chose this one.Yes, my beard is young now,I can show off a little,Yes, my eyes are up now,I can fly off a little.There’s no need to put,A spinning thought in my head,I am already on a ride,There’s no need to put,Another shinning streak, as I said,I am already in the light’s tide.Like a cacophony in a symphony,I can be at an uncomfortable high,The music is here, out in the woods,Tingling & touching even the unsubstantial,Its life, here & there, now & then, earthly & spatial,There’s no need to die.
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Why Should I Control My Anger
I can dominate the world with my anger,I can eat the odds with an attacking lion’s hunger,Then, why should I control my anger?
I am the ferocious storm,I am the eating whirlpool,I can blow anything in my way with anger in its strongest form,I can kill you brutally with the sharpness of a tool,Then, why am I supposed to control my anger, right from the play-way school?
My anger enjoys the death player,Success has turned me into a human slayer,I have created many death fairs,Single handedly, can kill a pair,And when I am asked to control my anger,To me, it feels like being treated unfair.
With the blood hungry sword,The heart bursting bullet,The piercing needle,I can kill those, who don’t keep their word,I can kill those, who don’t acknowledge me as lord,Then, why am I stopped right in the middle,And being asked to spit my anger caused by a fiddle.
I am the ruthless fire,I am the screaming sound,My anger has become my own satire,And now,I am angry to be kept bound.
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SmokeLet the smoke kill me a bit,And I will fight the moments after I inhale it,Let the smoke fill me a bit,And I will empty myself with the words I can’t say,Let the smoke surround me a bit,And I will open my eyes into the duality of this world,Let the smoke float me a bit,And I will resist to be grounded six feet under,Let the smoke kiss me a bit,And I will think about kissing back this poison of desire,Let the smoke engulf my brain a bit,And I will think about thinking a thought,Let the smoke fool (the) air a bit,And I will fool myself for this one more breath.
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When They Come For Me
When they come for me,I won’t be here,With no-one to spare,With or without the complications of today,You will be watching the stars any-day,You play with me and give a slap to my sorrow,My blueprints of today are the footprints of tomorrow.
When they come for me,Yeah, I am the pattern to be followed,My presence can’t be swallowed,As the beat follows my beat,I would be long gone,You will be frozen on your seat,With your coffee losing its essence,To you, the truth will be shown,On this very lonesome highway,I will be the dawn.
When they come for me,It’s all about the face beneath the skin,With every beat, pumped out will be a pin,I would be long gone,And you’ll say ‘I am long lost kin’.
Profane, I am today,Insane, I will be tomorrow,And when they come for me,I will be long gone.
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“NO NEED FOR DIRE INTRODUCTION, THEY SPEAK FOR THEMSELVES”
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And Another Fall
And I was raped yesterday,And I was raped today,And I will be raped tomorrow.
Because, my father was drunk,Because, my mother never cared,Because, I was alone in the alleyway,Because, from his morals, a guy just sunk,Because, I had small clothes & more meat to show,Because, live in a rugged system which will never bow,Because, a brother couldn’t touch anyone else,Because, I am a woman of today’s world where everything sells,Because, I was tricked into a pit with the floor of reality to know what rape is,Because, I was too intoxicated to say my side,Because, my protector just died,Because, I am low-waged woman,Because, I was wanted by no man,Because, my mother sold me for a fortune to make,Because, my sister had a revenge to take,Because, someone broke my trust with drugs,Because, I was overpowered in the bus by thugs,Because, someone wasn’t taught to respect women,Because, someone said, rape can’t happen to men.
And I was raped yesterday,And I was raped today,And I will be raped tomorrow.
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And Another Turmoil
A head awaits,In the silence of fear,In the poison of guilt,In the tension of nerves,In the blindness of closed eyes,In the screams of nothingness,In the spaces of hushed crowd,In the death which sees no religion,In the act which is condemned,In the music which is loud & clear,In the intensity of agreement,In the lens of the powerful,In the control of chaos.
A gun awaits,The silence of celebration,The breaths of redemption,The screams of losing someone,The spaces, a bullet brushes the barrel,The threshold of the pull of the trigger,The ruthlessness of revenge,The cacophony of many hits,The intensity of power in that push,The control of losing a part of itself,The turn of its initiator,The back & forth movement, cut the pendulum of life.
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Brittle OrphansBeing an orphan is like a sin,It lashes and bashes and crashes from within.I may be blind, deaf or dumb,They don’t care for me,Treat me as an animal and make me numb.I never had a mother’s affection or a father’s pride,For me, don’t know when they died,From the moment I knew I was an orphan,I just cried and cried and cried.They say I have unique eyes or a different face,But I haven’t taken even the first step of this world’s race.They adopt us to make beggars and murderers,Exploit our emotions,And we give the world, negative thunders.Politicians give money to our orphanage,They want to buy our feelings,But don’t care if we die at their child’s age.They give orphanage as a topic to group discussion,But never stood in group for us,Not even for a superstition.When I am treated like a bitch or dog,Nothing happens to my feelings,Coz, for all this, I am just a life-less log.I never told you to give me what I never had,But, please don’t make me realize,That without my parents, I am sad.
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Me: Divorce Devastated
I am the child of two commotions,Standing alone in the world of two emotions.
I love mom and dad from the inside core,But can’t understand what they are fighting for.
I see them separated all time here and there,Don’t know, for me is it dream or a nightmare?
The jury says “I will stay with mom”,But dad wants to stay with me at home.
I am not sad on the separation of my parents,But, can’t split my body and soul for their convenience.
They say parents are above God,Then why can’t I have them together, oh my Lord!
I stood in the courtroom and witnessed that hearing,It gave me the worst life with a gift of never ending constant spearing.
Now, I can stand face to face with an orphan,Left is only one difference between us.
He was forced to be born as an orphan,And I will die as a forced orphan.
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“Unusual Commons” is inspired & written on a classic hostel/paying
guest room, while using certain objects as props. Some touch the
aspects on an internal level & others are pointed out-rightly outwards.
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Unusual Commons
Oppositely placed but similarly tasted,Blinking green lights,Well, orange and red aren’t wasted.Fun, with the smile,Gives all meanings,Defines all lives,That technological rectangular tile.Neither the adrenaline, nor the push of situation,Some old boxes, some old coins,A dim of light and a roar of lions,Bread with talent needs perfect actuation.That hole for the bass,A new un-treaded race,That circular blot,Heaven essence mug, with that coffee spot.Still worried for the size,Appraisal from the past,Clapping from the last,Not enough for that prize.No day for the date,No date for the day,Enjoying and absorbing, the so called dimension,No drink in the crate,No assumptions for the stay,Enjoying and absorbing, the so called dimension.No, it’s not the pinch of magic,It is the unusualness,To understand it, need some fickleness,If it’s out of rhyme,Don’t be so tragic.
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Everytime
Living life from fools to the sages,From filled to books’ half written pages,Things been done and yet to do,Dues of life will always come true.Sing for the mountains and sing for their rivers,Sing for the laughter and sing for their tears.
Everytime, reflects, when a mirror,There’s a new face, there’s a bare truth, there are old lies,Everytime, a car, when it steers,There’s a new road, there are bare eyes, there’s a scared preparation,Everytime, a pen, when it strokes,There’s a new rage, there’s bare strength, there are bold tries,Everytime, cuts, when a spear,There’s a new reign, there’s bare blood, there’s a stained creation.
Nobody knows,The energy of life, from where it comes and where it goes,Playing on the traditional song,While hurdles and happiness, both move along,Living it, seems like,It has never been short,Mourning it, seems like,An engaging sentence ended with a dot.
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Randomisation Expressed
It has never been dark like this,Strange rather unique,Have never felt like this.Causes to stray, the surroundings,So loving,Doesn’t let you go away,Mystified, but unraveling,The intrusions are harsh.Doubts becoming heavier,Expressions not very much clear,Duties, responsibilities,Calling are the times,But creativity is the promising bitter layer.Secrets untold,Truths revealed, bold.Fame, WOW, fameHave it, handle it,Don’t have it, don't handle it,Dark, isn't d name?Another new start,Another clean page,Another new brat,Another teen age.The dignified shadow,The mystified plan,The immediate thunder,The fearsome wonder, Satisfaction of knowing,Happiness not showing,Screamingly honourable,What to say, what not to,Just like that fable.
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Randomisation Intensified
Is it gone or is it coming slow,That dominance in the walk,From front to the back,That face with the fist of shock.A thank you from shine with the click of time,Raging Sun, fell with the sound of dime.That rhythm in background,Tension builds up in the crack,Desire for that, mind still bound,Connected to past,Wire still grips for the last,Tension shows up in the slack.Question from the presence,Experience from the past,Expect from future,Don’t dance with last.The four line shocker,The six line beater,That guitar with the rocker,Those steps getting sweeter.Crack from the strike,Weak from the side,Stomp the yard,Strike it hard,Hurt the bones and don’t abide.The group of those rhymes,Clustered ambiguity deciphered,The look from those eyes,Contented, committed, confined,The slap of those doubts,Marked, forcefully chiseled,The crack of those sprouts,Alike, ablaze, amplified,The truth of those lies,Abused, ambushed, amputated,The trunk of those dimes,Artistic, exquisite, aesthetic,The fall of those times,
39
Provincial, martial, substantial,The sound of those lines,Heavy, loud, cracking,The prodigy of those crimes,Remarkable, distinctive, unconventional.Is it time to hang on or to grip with a go,Don’t ask,Even if you don’t, you must know.
40
One Eye Opened
Don’t believe that, please,Don’t believe that I will be happy,Don’t believe that I will be well asleep,Don’t believe that I will have a fancy lifestyle,Don’t believe that, please.
I will fight,Not for pride & honour,Not for the tombstones faced with valour,Not for the shame in their eyes,Not for the stories they would tell,Not for the egos that will fall,Not for the brief moments of cowardice,Not for the unachievable redemption,Not for the kinship or family,Not for the hunger, poverty and misery,Not for the despair & suffering,Not for you, me or anyone.
But, I will fight,For something, I am yet to embrace,For something, I am yet to be stitched with,For something, I am yet to be free off,For something, I can only feel.
41
Hey You !It has all been said before,Everything you missed and nothing you did,Reaching out and touching is not an option anymore,The end is far or the end is near,Hey you ! looking for corners to hide ?For your perfectly mistimed fate,The earth is a sphere,Ripped off from your laughs,Stripped off from rising graphs,There you stand, scratched, stoned, defenseless,Agony, remorse : on their way,Fear, pain are here to stay,There you will stand, mistreated, targeted, toothless.
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“Women, Wine & Wealth”, what else one would need to write the following
poems. Oh yes! Sometimes a broken heart & sometimes a mended one.
Other than that experiences of other and glimpses of unattainable beauty
provide more inspiration than anything else.
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Random MomentAnd one random day,I shared a moment with her,It was my moment to say,But, it was her and only hers,In and out, up and down,Here to there, near to far.
In a place, where nightlife lives,Where the music wants to touch you,Where the air you breathe in and smoke you exhale,Where the wine tastes richer with every sip,Where the world is united and completely deserted at the same time.
In this place,On a random day,I shared a moment with her,A moment, in which I could feel my eyes close into hers,A moment, in which I could engulf myself in her scent,A moment in which I could create fire with the touch of her skin,A moment, in which I could move with her as one,A moment, in which I could live for eternity after eternity,After eternity after eternity and go on over & over.
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Digging My Own Grave
Why I believed your lie,When I knew, you would throw me to die,Expecting, you would be here for me, to save,Was nothing less than digging my own grave.
I loved you, Even when I didn’t have gas in my tank,Waited for you patiently as a river bank,You gave me wounds which would never heal,But, Why the hell I thought that everything you pretended was real.
I see the mirror, holding a shovel in my hand,I turn around, to see you beside me, stand,I thought to live life in passion,But, with this shovel, I am digging my own grave in a naïve succession.
Why I sacrificed and stayed,And you tossed me like a stone and played,I thought,With you everything I can find,But with every passing second, you were turning me blind,And I never knew, I was digging my own grave in my mind.
Like the insects, beneath my skin you were crawling,I wish I knew, that I was falling,In my life, you were nothing more than a snag,Why I cemented you, when you were in a rag,Was found guilty by association,Want to see your cremation.
Instead of love, you gave me pain,Why the damn shit, I was your umbrella in rain,For you, I was turned into a slave,But then I realized, I had already dug my grave.
45
Wished, I knew how to dig a grave,Wished, I was blessed with lies,Wished, there have to no one for your save,Along with my grave,Wished to dig one for your cries.
46
Heart-felt
I’ve been kept aside by my darling,For the reasons, I’ve given her,She knows, she is the love of my life,For the moments, days, months & seasons, I’ve given her,I feel, I’ve broken my darling,For the reasons, we haven’t been together,I know, I will love my darling,For the seasons we will be together.
Its not the first time that,We have cried,She through me, and,I through her.Its not the first time that,We will be together, we say,She through me, and,I through her,Its not the first time that,We know we will change,She through me, and,I through her.
A few signs say, That we might be done here,Another few signs say, That we might be born here.We don’t even know,If we hope for the dots to connect,We don’t even know,If we hope for the destinies to select,We don’t even know,If we hope for the love to protect.
47
Him or Too Much
Too much energy,Simply too much,Nothing takes this man down,Fear, scarcity, overflow,Not that he is too tough,Not that he is an opportunist,But the unsaid traits make him sail,The basic urge to see light through cracks,The instinct to dance with the beat,And not letting the drums of doom fail him,Positivity, maybe,Absence of light doesn’t scare his soul,For him,Darkness has its own charm,It not only fills the lungs,With differently tasting air,But also spends the time like a beloved,The seamless darkness and her love,Though her ability to destroy,Her intensity to tear apart,Keeps him on his toes and challenged,Too much energy,Simply too much.
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Am and Her (1)
Standing tall,Head to head against you,She is like a compelling challenge,For whom (even) your million tries would be worth enjoying a failure.
Like a waterfall, those black hair flow,The vibrant skin, makes you,To grab one last look every second,Oozing out elegance,The face grabs your attention,In its own subtle, strong & smooth glow,As those eyes lit up with happinessAnd smile enjoys its time on her face,You tend to feel your heart race,And involuntarily, you ask your brain,For that special moment’s retention.
As a woman,She has colours,Many & complex for the whole world,Definite & countable with whom, hands she holds,As a girl,She has her moments,Sad or happy, for those don’t tend,Sensitive & vulnerable for the penetrative friend,As a daughter,She has all her love.
Her aura is addictive,That asking confidence,Magnetic but stays grounded.
Among the very few of those,Can be a thorn & a rose,Raw & polished at the same time,Shaky & classy in the same walk,
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Friend & a foe for the same talk,Princess & a pauper for the same mirror,Eye candy & common for the same onlooker.
A look here,A look over there,You will find her enjoying herself.
While she’s all happy & chirpy,She will make your day, so amazing,Like you never thought, it would be,While she’s down & sad,Her purity of unconcealed vibes, looks at you,Allows you to tell her,That she is beautiful, hat she is amazing,That without her being happy & chirpy,Your day is not same, you thought it would be.
Her special world revolves around,The love for dogs,Unconcealed expressions of the moment,Curse words,For situations, both happy & damn it,The fast cars with adrenaline in need,The classy cars with panache indeed,He anger bursts, when you poke too much,The grand love, when she just feels like giving,The child in her, still strong & living,The scared innocence, protecting itself from stress or such.
Those eyes,And that split second of expression,It sings to you about love,Tells you, how madly she can love,Doesn’t talk much,Not that much for you to respond,But, just enough for you to notice,For you to know that her heart is special,That her thoughts are relentless,
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That her actions will be less,That her laughs will be for you to decipher,That she won’t be open until she wants it,Until she’s ready,Until she feels that tinge, that pace,Until she can take that leap of faith,Until it is for her heart to race.
51
Am & Her (2)The hate, the love,The aggressor, the eliminator,Her fragrance, she is the envy of my soul,She is the walk when I crawl,She is amazing when I am down,She is simply too much to put into words,Drunk and weary kind,Unconventional and smooth,Attractive and repulsive,Symphony and cacophony,Unattainable art and most sold book,With whom each moment is shook,The madness of an artist,The peace of a cyclone,The warmth of a volcano,The class of a rugged warrior,The reflection of a cracked mirror,The defeat of a pen,The attraction of a den, The stealth of love,Voice of undisputed pain,Strength if dying rain,Weakness of knees,Queen of bees,Loss of ink,Beauty not to be missed for a blink,Hardwork of a handicap,Tattoo of a famous chap,Break in the flow of a poem,Addition to the beat of a song,Expectation of a critic,Randomness of a river’s flow,Silence of a serial killer,Eyes of a sniper,Defenses of a camouflage,Shock of an unsustainable breath,Brain running wild.
52
Am and Her (3)
And she makes the world revolve around her,By loving, crying, caring, sharing,And she makes the pain go away,By hiding, smiling, shaking, faking,And she makes the loves come to her,By putting herself into others’ fire,And she runs away from herself,By numbing others’ pain.
But, is she what you see,What you perceive,What you sense with closed eyes,What you feel with unscented air,What you claim her to be,What you need her to be,What you want her to be.
Is she another fall off the cliff,Is she the sense-surrounding whiff,Is she the guitar yet to be played,Is she the women yet to be made,Is she the bull to be taken by the horns,Is she the rose protected by thorns.
53
And I Still Have A Heart-Break
It’s (has) been long time, since we parted,Trying to forget you,Don’t know, how many times I’ve started.Sometimes, (it) feels like, maybe I’ve forgotten.
I’ve started acting weird,Being in love, showing no love,I still remember the feeling,With the break-up, I was speared,Being in love, having no love.
And I’ve felt your presence,Like many times before,Your skin and your fragrance,Everytime I felt, life became pure.
And I’ve stopped by, around many,Just to find a similarity between them and you,And I’ve passed by, around many,Just to find,Unlike all, you are only you.
54
Her: A glimpse
Her eyes were concealed,No,Her forehead & eyes were not visible,The lips (do) stand out,Without the hint of any lipstick,They were doing more than standing out,One could feel the hands move on her cheeks,A mole on one side and one on the other,These two take you on a journey,Which can rather turn out more than,Exciting, soothing and elusively seductive,Nose is a bit plump(y),No no, don’t laugh,A woman is always beautiful,One only needs to look into her soul,Just a faint smile has embraced her face,Wish I could see her eyes,Could have hypnotized myself,But for now,The touch of my thumb,Form her cheeks to mole and back,And this is where I stop,Thanks love, Thanks for the glimpse.
55
Heart-SaidI still remember you, my love,Needless to say,I still love you, my love.
Seems like an eternity has passed,Since you were gone,An eternity of million moments has passed,Since you were gone,Moments of million eternities have passed,Since you were gone.
How ironical it feels, when I say,You were gone,I feel you every moment with me,Still I say,You were/are gone.
I remember the moment, when we found our love,It can be understated as magical,‘I don’t know’ was my answer,Whenever you asked me,‘Why do I love you’ ?
I remember the moment, when we dropped our love,It can be understated as reality,‘I don’t know’ is my answer,If you want to ask me,‘Why do I love you’ ?
I want to witness the moment, when will pick up our love,It will be understated as a soul to soul connection,‘I don’t know’, will be answer,When you will ask me,‘Why do I love you’ ?
56
When I Miss You
I can’t see your joy,Sustaining you has been the toughest thing to do,Whenever you go out,Why am I always in doubt?No, no, it’s not for you or your loyalty,My temper rises and I pass through insanity.I tend to remember our time,Love comes but anger blooms into it,To feel the warmth of your skin has become a challenge,Is it anger or desperation or have I become mentally deranged,I fear, I may commit a crime,Whenever I start again, I end up in a damn-shit,Confusion, confession and consecutive cohesion,Is it all arranged?I see pairs,Just to raise a question,Am I a spare?I can’t wipe your tears,Under strict conditions,For your darkest fears,Can’t even lend you ears,Will my feelings have any recognition?Rather than trying to be with you,Playing my six-string is a better option,I can’t sustain you whenever I stay with you,Makes me go mad,And for myself,I have a devil’s introduction.Like the tides in ocean quietness prevails,Its beauty is mystified,I feel it without fail,Instead of writing all this,I wish I could have had cried.
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She, her & meShe, well . . . . she,Not just her . . . she,Sitting like a princess,She is blessing,She is giving,She is gently touching,The unknown,With happiness and a sweet smile.
Her eyes are lit-up with the warmth that fills her,With the ecstacy that embraces her,The hair complements her presence,They do slide down,In their own comfortable manner,They do stand out,In their own confident glare,They do look ruffled-unruffled,In their own perfect-imperfect play.
The face beholds,For what strives in her head,The touch lingersThe touch of one’s eyes on her face,To know the up and down of it,One runs a very very slow race,The race, where,That touch moves from the forehead,And meets the beautifully bright big eyes,With more than complementing eye-brows,The touch goes to the cheeks,It lingers the longest,Slips on the smoothest,Feel an inexplicable tenderness,And then the lips,There comes a stop,And a thank you comes out for her,For the eternity of that single moment.Now, that expression,That is one winning look,
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With the vision,Headed to the eye of storm,With the precision,Following the tip of the arrow.
The playful child lurks around,Just under the skin,Of this woman,Grown, free & confident (but) yet bound,This child loves,To blow kisses in the air,A hug here and a hug there,A symphony here and a cacophony there,This child winks,At flowers to see her naughtiness in them,At a water pond to see if the frog jumps,At the mirror to check if another’s needed.
The colours of this woman,The range of these colours,The intelligent yet slightly mad behavior,Of these unseen yet completely vibrant colours,Is all her secret,Is all for her to own and cherish,No admirer can go through,No hater can tear through,No illusionist can float through,It has and always been,Her place and only hers,Against the mirror.
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EyesThe eyes I saw for the first time,Were of my mother’s,But not like mine.I thought that the vision got me caught,But I never knew that I was being taught,Then the world changed my vision,And I got the biggest collision,The beauty of those eyes remained in sight,I couldn’t recognize it,Coz I was in,A kind of fight with my own plight,The beauty of her eyes was massive,The innocence seemed excessive,And the intensity was progressive,
Those eyes turned my world sensuous,I ran with happiness & was enthusiastic,My soul was seeking the world which was voluptuous,And this whole scenario was just ecstatic.
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When She Said No To Me
When she said no to me,It was a desolating blow to me.At first glance, I fell in love with her,Couldn’t recognize this for a long time,Till I was moved by her.Everything seemed very much quite,Every moment I was about to cry,But held myself tight.Now, the wind was dry, the sand was hot and the sky was dark,And I couldn’t feel a baby’s cry or a dog’s bark.She was the one, who made me fell for her,Then why our relationship completely depends on her.To express my feelings I am missing the words,But still hovering around that flower like the humming birds.I am missing the ripples of water and the freshness of air,Cannot understand why I am wondering here and there.I could resist the chilling needles of water in cold,Some thought I was bold,But for her to come back,My each single breath, I could have sold.
61
So, She
She revolves around her world,And not the other way around,She loves every part of it,Sheer attachment, but nothing else to bound,It truly takes the heart of a woman,To be through,What she has experienced,What she has withered,What she has created,What she has muted,It truly takes the soul of a woman,To express,Through clarity & mystery,Through touch of fragrance,Through warmth of expressions,Through unraveling of layers,It truly takes the touch of a woman,To fill,Life with colours,Moments with surprises,People with tender feelings,The ambience with happiness,It truly takes a woman to complete this world.
62
Oxymoronic situations play their defining roles either by taking it to
extremes or by rendering the surroundings useless. A peculiar kind
of irritability lurches around the periphery.
63
Both
The piece has few weak spots,A prick of trust from needle,A hanging hand from the bed,A broken tooth on the road,A courage which never showed up.
The piece has few strengthened dots,A consistency rarely appreciated,A focus not wide but fixated,A trust building blood and sweat,Dark circled eyes with coffee stained lips,A calm face offered when it comes to whips.
As always,All pieces can’t survive when alone,So, let’s form a picture,Which is,Both strong and weak,Both connected and disconnected,Both beautiful and ugly,Both big and small,Both traditional and modern,Both life and death,Both suffering and smile,Both addictive and repulsive,Both food and vomit,Both love and hate,Both rage and instability,Both whisper and shout,Both struggle and suicide,Both black and white,Both drugs and clean,Both bomb and diffuser,Both pull and push,Both rise and fall,Both carcass and human,Both taxidermist and executioner,Both bundled and blown away,
64
Both dusk and dawn,Both rain and heat,Both lover and killer.
65
Iron & DiamondIt is bare and cold,Molten iron in a diamond mould,The knife doesn’t stop to love,Collision of stars up above.
Now the crash happens,A speed junkie unleashes like cracken,Lost a leg, lost a rib,Lost some hope, lost all grip,The music doesn’t stop now,It is hot blood pooling up,Now, the differentiator dies,Human and animal, both creating cries,The stardust changes form,Pent up volcano blows on and on.
Now, the kill happens,A bullet hole in place of the eye,No meat, no blood, no flesh, in place of the sty,The fall starts, the weight follows,A split-second lost,Life goes away, death is the host,Soul becomes the mic,Heart stops, brain screams,Reality gives up,Situation, like or unlike.
Now, the compromise happens,Silence in place of the scream,Withered out violently,From the last bit of steam,Shut mouth, open eyes,For whole existence, fear it strives,And if the courage thinks about rising,Then emerges a cyclone of molten lava,Tsunami of the cold waves,Wind of the meteors.
66
Empty Poem
It is an empty page,An empty head,An empty stare,Empty minutes,Emptier seconds,Not like empty is empty,Even the pen is empty,But one can write,With an empty pen on an empty page,What an irony !It will be full yet completely empty,More like a human being,Wow !How would it feel to think,In an empty head with empty thoughts,To make it full of emptiness,How would it feel to love,An empty heart with another empty heart,To multiply two with emptiness,How would it feel to raise,An empty child by emptier parents,To join the empty revolution.An empty cookie jar is a delight,It can be filled again,But this empty,It takes a lot of space,It takes so much,That even full can’t take.
So amazing yet sadly awkward,Maybe, this is the way forward.
If it is so empty,Then why do we push and pull for survival,Then why do we wait eagerly for upheaval,Then why do we get excited for big numbers,Then why do we fight over religion,Then why do we still not send messages,
67
Through a postman or a pigeon,Then why do we spill so much red,Then why do we dare to insult the dead,Then why do we,It is so much of why, just why.
Think, it is so so so empty,Isn’t it ?
I think, there is space for everyone,Don’t overthink,It is just an empty poem.
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To Start WithTo start with,Distraction, connection, the peace of obliteration,The child lives, breathes, smiles and dives,More like the sound of cracking a nut,So short lived, so meaningless after it’s done,World to some and even death to none.
Talking to ghosts now,No, no, not the ghosts which one can’t touch,The ghosts who stand beside you,Stare at you with cold eyes,Give you painful goodbyes,Make you find truth in lies.
A crack in this mirror, a crack in that mirror,This castle of imperfect realities,Is no way clearer, The ruthless pragmatism vomits,Useless breathing, a 3-inch armour never permits,Bullet holes in the walls become eyes,In an empty room,There is always space for spies.
Fresh meat is on the floor,The butcher stands with pride,Was it a man,Was it a woman,Or was it his own child,The answer to that,Easy to see, easy to know,Easy to find, easy to conclude,Keep your mouth shut and breathe light,When you see him wild.
None-the-less, all-the-better,Don’t love the taste,It can get bitter.
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They say,This fresh meat is always delicious,The wolves, their claws,Hiding in plain sight,So beautiful, so polite, so charming, so vicious.
The takers don’t pay blood for blood,The takers don’t pay meat for meat,They always offer,Something deluding, elusive,Something worth to kill for,Something which doesn’t last,Something which is weightless yet heavy with desires,Something which makes a mad-man,Something which is lustful for itself,Something which pounds hard on the brain,Something important yet ready to be waivered off,Something deluding, elusive.
The observers,They aren’t here for taking, They aren’t here to taste,They aren’t here to bow down,They are here,To bring down the house,To bring down the takers,To bring down the makers,To bring down what rises,To bring down what shines,To bring down what is important to others,To bring everything down,Which can be fresh meat,They would even bring down the floor,And then give that cynical smile.
70
PlayVirginity, remorse, sensuality,Innocence, crime, parole,Fight the ground, dig deep, another fall,Drums, beats, power,Kill , breed, repeat,Drown, rise, frown,Feel, touch, fly,Eat the misery, spit out the blood, unleash wrath on hell,Curse the disconnect, love a dying soul, pay for the mistake.
71
DesignHow do you deal with it ?
When designs intersect each other,Before that, when the design unravels,A part of it, just a part,In front of you, in front of your senses,Not just eyes,Not just ears,Not just smell,But all at once,And you are still unsure of everything,But you are sure,Only About the uncertainty,And it is somehow,The adrenaline; the dopamine, the memory, the act,Which is both fearful and fearless,When the design unravels,Only when it wants to,You are already a part of it,It is too complex,Too intricate to,Even have a look at,But you stay,And,So does the design,The elements of this design,Are unusual, simple but unusual,Then you feel another design,You just feel it,Not even see it,Not even touch it,Not even smell it,Not even hear it,But only feel it,Coming in and intersecting in,Then, how do you deal with that,As, this can also be,A part of the unraveling design,You are still unsure of everything,
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But this time,You are sure,More than the last time,About the uncertainty,And if you are somehow correct,About the feel of the intersection,Then,How do you deal with it ?
How ?
73
Then Who
The blues work their way in,Like the termites show up suddenly,Large in numbers yet not so formidable,The depth is yet to be measured,The leap is still midway,Broken strings tightening around the throat,Words are not a run-away,Each stroke touches both fear and perfection,The flow of blood from one cut,The flow of tear from a blind eye,The glow of burning tobacco,A drug into the bloodstream,Brain in the warlord mode,Someone dares a strum,A lesson is taught,One punch at a time,One breath at a time,One muscle at a time,The variation disturbs the heart-beat,An unknown sound causes a nano-stand-still,The moment is remembered,The time is spoken,The date is written,And symphony cracks a whip,A whip so strong,So full of cacophonies,That they wander fearlessly,And chaos becomes order,A pause,A cause,A lack of not so important aspect,A smack but not in the face,Health, habits, hindrance,Worrisome past,Not-so-worry free present,And the future, oh the future, well, the future,Tastes have changed,
74
Perspectives have grown,Imprints have been made,Looks life long,Or even longer than life,The disc moves further and live feed becomes the past,Camera breaks multiple frames per second,And slow becomes the fast,Too many ‘once upon a time’ stories,Some care, only some,Rest cannot care, they are capable,But they cannot,If they will,Then who will take the blame,Blame to corrupt,Blame to make the fall happen,Blame to kiss away the purity,Blame to give a peek into the other world,And then she walks,Mercilessly, as if it never happened,Flawlessly, as if she was never seen,Aimlessly, as if she never gave a damn,Heartlessly, as if she was someone else a moment ago.
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Words
Energy, overflow,A wordplay, an offence, a defense,Dead-eyed crow for a dead flesh show,No link, on the brink, on the verge,Hysteria, symmetry, downfall,A pump once again,A spark, a sweet tinge, A bittersweet acid, a remorseless look,Not so awkward time,Vague, throwback to the past,Hidden truths, open secrets,Hiding in plain sight,The killer of this realm,Each moment,No, overflow, yes, maybe,Can’t say, don’t talk much,Listen,Man with patience,When its time,Not in the end,Safety, hah !Cross the holes,In the soul, in the streets, in the city,Around the eyes, for the goodbyes,A week plus another day,A gust of wind comes,Old wind with a new blow,Looking for a pattern,No, no, hah !Anarchy of words,Attack of puns, army of different forms,The derisive win, the words,Yes ! yes ! yes ! the words,These foul smelling words, They kill, they make you perform,They don’t leave you, never ! hah !The anti-hero, anti-thesis, catharsis,Eulogy, sonnets, who cares,
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Just words,Their own form, their own world,Not in love, not in hate,Dominance, sheer dominance,Alive, dead, doesn’t matter,The king rules !!
77
A Hit
Bubbles out of a bottle,A sign of happiness,Bubbles out of a mouth,A sign for mourning longer than expected,Kretek’s smoke,A young bloke,Up-down, day-night, smell-sight,All through a fight,The design coming in together,The grand plan interrupting in,The love-hate relationship on fire,The cold blooded insect being a new inspiration,Threshold tester not failing but dragging,The last breath too long,Spark of interpretation,Another tap to throw the ash away,The willingness of a dragon’s kiss,Anagrams within anagrams,Messages in between the lines,Just an outlet, merely an outlet,An abyss so deep that it has an end,A soul so brave that it didn’t crash,A faith so strong that it burns naked,A filth so filthy that it oozes fragrance,A head trip so powerful that it doesn’t explode,A random string so strong that it cuts through and through,An imposition so strong that it feels a part,An extradition so nuclear that the organs fail,An incision so neat that it lives on forever,Darkness so pure that it gives birth to innocence,An expectation so light-weighted, that it keeps floating,A blame so heavy that everyone’s ready to take,An act of patience so weak that it says ‘I am’,An act of ego so strong that it cries blood,Death of a life, dying one lives and living one dies,The golden shimmer in the drop of sweat,Finishing of one symphony,
78
Starting of another cacophony,Ticking of a stopped clock,Opening of a cracked door,Light coming in, imperfections staying beautiful,No one, simply no one,To stand against him,Found a few,Who could read him,Whom he could read,Who could write him,Whom he could write,Who could be affectionate to him,Whom he could be affectionate with,Used presents, cherished more than ever,The scream of the head,The pain of the soul,The reaction of the heart,The support of the body,The too much energy to be contained,The pinch of madness to be celebrated,The twitch of emotions,Fight of preferences,Amazing story from uncalled incidents,Dance of black swan,Not once, not twice,But performed for the infinite number,The soul so deep,It feels like a never ending well,The dream so real,It leaves the senses rendered forever,The brain so full of emotions,It never stops overflowing and yet empty forever,It’s not done yet,Funny,How a certain stroke,A certain act,A certain twitch,A certain pinch,A certain wink,A certain blade,
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A certain touch,A certain kiss,A certain melody,A certain slap,A certain guitar riff,A certain grave,A certain birth,A certain recurring sound,Can affect,Events, outcomes,Turn away the consequences,Give birth to unexpected lives,Take souls from the dead,Take credit for the grand artwork,Take a bullet in the head,Can flip a coin when it’s standing,Can throw a magic wand and spread chaos in nowhere.
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Has It?
And then the moment unraveled,The design unraveled,The need of a confidante,The smell and sweat of a keeper,The feeling better than that of a free flight,The smooth flow of a creative second,Rivalry within a spontaneous prodigy,Art of complexity,So simple in large number of words,So complex in few,Maybe vice-versa,Taken, given, even due,Green dot expressions,Grey plot impressions,Sudden rush,Repetitive, theme, words, plot,Sudden boredom,Energetic bloom far away,That loss in the fourth line,And the last word,That greed to go on,Yes, both kinds of greed,All kinds of greed,Has it ended?
81
“MORE OR LESS, ONE OF ANOTHER STRUGGLES”
82
Face Beneath The Skin
I am face beneath your skin,You don’t want to recognize me,I have always supported you,When tormented from inside were you,I was the one to say “don’t worry, we can do”.Then why, tell me why am I caged within,Why, my wounds and scars get to the skin,Why, am I supposed to bleed from within,Why, am I asked to spin,On a piercing pin, with my resistance so thin,Till the only place fit for me is a trash-bin.When you gave up,I was the one, who stood by you,When you were thrown away,I was the one, who stood against the world coming in your way,When you were crying,I was the one, to shed off my blood through your tears,Without even showing,When you were about to die,I was the only one, ready to stop my breath with you.I am the face beneath your skin,Can’t you see me, am I so thin?If you don’t want to see me,Then, don’t treat me as a sin.
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Single Footed WalkI saw a man, made his presence mark,Daring seemed his single-footed walk.Lives around felt pity for him,But couldn’t recognize their pity from within.
Around there stood a girl exposing herself,Her vision dizzied by today’s fashion itself,Was willing to help that man,But her cell phone beeped and said, it was out of plan.
In front of me stood a forty year old father,With him was son, but never willing to bother,Help him said father to son, with all the courage he could gather,But blew away his pride, the son, like a feather.
Slap! I saw on the face of innocent child,Coz his feelings for the single footed man were mild,Since the mother was wild and frustrated,So it was the child who felt the pain of single footed.
People around that place had a story of this or that,Lived their lives up to tit for tat,Again, felt pity for him,But couldn’t recognize their pity from within.
Now I could see,Lives of all around that man carried the single footed walk,And no-one except him, made their presence mark.
84
Before Life Gets Faded
Mysteries of nature,Greens and browns have shown,For its understated caricature,Situations and responsibilities have grown.And there are promises to be shaded,Before the life gets faded.
From the skies and their mountains,From the rivers and their fountains,From the compactness of life span,From the will of ‘I can’,There are promises to be bagged,Before the life gets flagged.
For the stars and their lights,For the planets and their sights,For the unending imagination,For the creator’s own definition,There are promises to be tagged,Before the life gets gagged.
Anger of sun at noon,Calm breeze with the light of moon,Depths of oceans, unrevealingly mysterious,Heights of skies, not even vaguely hilarious,And there are promises to be graded,Before the life gets faded.
85
Deaf ListenerHe is deaf, he can’t hear you,He can’t act or interact according to you.You call him bad,You laugh at him and think, he won’t feel sad.
He can hear what you feel for him,But still lives with the fear,That you would take his deafness away from him.
He talks with actions,Has made in life, many difficult selections,Cannot make many interactions,But do realize, he has a reaction.
He enjoys the happiness of a birth,He feels the pain of a death,Then why is he deaf until his last breath.
He is silent when the lion roars,He is unmoved when the storm soars,This shows,He, in himself is a bigger force.
He feels with his sixth sense,Looks flawless in appearance,And is invincible in every life’s every essence.
His journey looks very much silent,From inside, he is very much vibrant.
He can interact even with God’s voice,But when he’s dealt badly,The whole world gets a frightening noise.
He can create the soul connecting music ,Looks like a magician to instruments,And a wizard for viewers and participants.
86
Barefooted Walk
I felt cold, I felt hot,When I started the barefooted walk.The first step was a tough one,I felt the heat as if burnt by the Sun.My next step was a bit bold,So I faced the needles of chilling cold.The less travelled road I took,More rough and scary it looked,My feet were bruised, but the road got me booked.Now, the most painful moment came,But there was no-one to blame,Something pierced my soul under my feet,And I felt as if I wasn’t the same.From there, I took the road again,I knew, it wasn’t plain,But my bare-foot wanted to feel some more pain.Luckily, I stepped on a flower,It joyfully relinquished itself,And gave me its power,With this, I was ready to travel much far.I threw away the most beautiful clock,And carried on the barefooted walk.
87
“FAMILIA & US”
88
Touch Of Mother
I am her part, she is my start,On this earth, I am the luckiest sonTo have the touch & love of my mother’s heart.
I took birth as a hope for her,People said, I am weak & will just murmur,But her confidence made me stand,And make my way even through the roughest stir.
In her lap, heaven is beneath my head,In her food, nutrition is my bread,Mother-Son relation is unique, someone truly said.
For my mother, I’ve been a very difficult child,She has loved me limitlessly,And her love has made me,At heart, loving & mild.
She corrects me, If commit a mistake,She helps me, even if I am not ready to take,But she’ll never back down,Even if, for me, her own self is at stake.
As a bird, you are my first flight,In hunger, you are my first bite,In dark, you are the ray of light,As success, you are the height,And for the whole life,Maa, I want to stay as child & have your love as my birthright.I love you, maa.
89
Pride Of Father
I am the pride of my father,That’s why, he lives freely & about the world,He doesn’t bother.
In me, his red runs through,In me, his breath runs through,And when it comes to his prestige, my father says“Son, it’s only you”.
Our relationship & love is above all,Life puts us in difficult situations and gives the unusual call,But for him, I can even make the miracles fall.
He is the one, who cherished my birth,And he is the only one, who can perish himself for me,On this earth.
He always knew that I will run faster than him,But at my life’s first step,He looked the most excited from within.
When I hurt him, he never shows,It’s not that he doesn’t love me,But he never wants me to have those hurting blows.
My father,You are my holding hand in the crowd,You are the shoulder when I am down,You are the king when I am crowned,You are the pain when I have a wound,And most of all,You are the father & I am your proud.
90
When My Parents Cried
When my parents cried,Every moment I was reborn and then just died and died and died.I have given them wounds, which will never heal,When this hell is over, they will show as if nothing is real.It haunts me, makes me insecure,Being their child is a gift and I can’t make their wounds cure.They talk with me like they don’t want to,They walk with me like they don’t want to,They are breathing with me like they don’t want to.My father is very upset and disturbed,I don’t know, when will, he smile again,Due to me and only me, he’s left alone and perturbed.My father expects very less from me,He pushes and pushes, when the odds are in excess and against me,In me, he is living his life,And I am failing unfailingly to save his throat being cut by an invisible knife.My mother is left with no words,Instead of having me, she must be praying to be a childless bird.She can’t leave her supportive nature,And still, now, she tries to fill confidence in me, rather, in a useless creature.She fears, I may commit suicide,She takes a deep breath and from where the courage came to say,“Son, life doesn’t stop even if you punish us, by throwing your body dead along a roadside.”I don’t know, when all this will be over,With every tear and pain, my parents cried,I felt being killed by own self,And I just cried and cried and cried.My soul, my body, my every inch wants to scream,And I want that someday I will wake up and all this will be a dream.
91
“JOURNEY, ADDICTION & DEATH: AN ONLOOKER’S ACCOUNT”
92
Other Face of The Comedian
He can make many faces,Loves by all races,Inspired by different phases,And is recognized by different spaces.Like every coin, the other face of comedian exists,Maybe hidden, maybe shown,Maybe tough, maybe blown,May hit harder than a wrestler’s fist,Shows life’s every gist,But, it always assists and persists.Shows the inner side,Goes on side by side,To its master, may or may not abide,Many times,It cried, it lied and it died,But the whole life, to its core,It remained strengthened and tied.Thousands of times, it fumbled and crumbled,In tough times, it did mumble,But lives the whole life with a continuous rumble.
93
Coffee
Soothing all senses, both known and unknown,The satisfaction, it iterates,Stabilizing all feelings, both shown and blown,The peace, it creates,Fulfilling the thirsts, both immature and grown.That very depth of coffee colour,Deeper is life and its meaning,Those extravagantly admirable coffee beans,Crushing with them, the sorrows,Blending with them, the joys,That very fragrance from the coffee boiler,Only expressions and feelings for life and its meaning,That cup of coffee,For longest interval of the shortest second, a dip,From the coffee itself, a sip,Froth of sorrows,Drink of joys.Many names, but addiction remains the same,Many temperatures, but effect remains the same,Many moods, but touch remains the same,Many seasons, but ambience remains the same,Many hands, but mug remains the same,Many forms, but coffee remains the same.
94
There I Go
On this un-treaded path,I’ve pushed a few miles from the start,With a long highway in front of me,Colours of life on a running spree,Hands of clock ticking free,On this un-treaded path,I’ve pushed a few miles from the start.
Cool breeze and sparkling dew drops,Joy and happiness watering the friendship crops,With the warmth of sunlight,Taking head on, love and success,With a common fight,There I go,Bagging all memories for the process,With that very perception, vision, sight.
Promises to be made, to be kept, to be completed,Turning the seasons away,Page by page,Experiences to be laid, to be swept, to be created,Turning the reasons away,Age by age,Emotions to be gazed, to be felt, to be cheated,Turning the treasons away,Rage by rage.
Million roles to play,One life, one body, one soul,From life to death, as they say,Many faces, many races, many prejudices.On this un-treaded path,I’ve raised my glance a few miles towards the end,With the long highway left behind me,Colours of life on a running spree,
95
Hands of clock ticking free,On this un-treaded path,I’ve raised my glance a few miles towards the end.
96
Down Under
Today, I am down and under,Realities and fantasies,The difference I wonder.Light fears and shadow disappears,On this lonesome highway,Once it was my way.I think and think of everything,Mirage is the reality of truth,Lost into deception is my youth,Failures are the crowned kings of nothing.Irrelevant are responsible phrases for me,How tough the maze is for me.I, is the reason for being back today,Looking at the past,There’s no regret, but a slap for today.Here I am,With all in my mind,Do I need to be available for this very kind,The trees, the houses, the stars and the sky,I have so much to be thankful for,But I still have a ‘why’.
97
That Journey
Shedding those pieces behind me,Each hurts and will hurt,Substantially hollow, the soul feels,Fighting those pieces behind me,Each blurts and will blurt,Un-manageably filled, the body feels;Feels insatiably resistant,For this journey,That has been soul-quaked in-numerable times.
Each time, the dried throat crashed,The sweat beads never shone,The swelled body never looking healthy,Random situations, similarly slashed,Like a coal covered diamond, always alone,The bad experienced book with metal binding was getting wealthy;Feels insatiably resistant,For this journey,That has been soul-quaked in-numerable times;Feels nefariously confident,For this journey,That has been strangulated in-numerable times.
Not even a single finger moved,Lost were the foul words,Expressions kept quiet under the scanning volcano,Never, the barrel of forty-five was used,Shone, the metal of no-blood tasted swords,Relations kept quiet under the scanning volcano;Feels insatiably resistant,For this journey,That has been soul-quaked in-numerable times;
98
Feels nefariously confident,For this journey,That has been strangulated in-numerable times;Feels lavishly violent,For this journey,That has been burnt alive beside the pyre in-numerable times.
Those nights liquored,Tears in the heart & dried salt under the eyes,The ugly orchid and the sweet thorn,Those nights trickled,Feared waters out from the heart & dried salt in front of eyes,The beautiful orchid and the protective thorn;Feels insatiably resistant,For this journey,That has been soul-quaked in-numerable times;Feels nefariously confident,For this journey,That has been strangulated in-numerable times;Feels lavishly violent,For this journey,That has been burnt alive beside the pyre in-numerable times;Feels lustfully silent,For this journey,That has been both explicitly & implicitly saved & loved in-numerable times.
99
On This Road, There I Go
Some days are heavy and some are heavier,Some reasons are funny and some are funnier,Only, an instance or two,Have made a positive impact,For the rest, there’s fight that I do.
This cage is infinite streak,But it is still closed,This age is immature and weak,But, power within it is still enclosed.
On this road, there I go,Don’t’ know, where it leads,Don’t know, where it heads,With temptations and impatience, being part of the show,I know, pain, tears and confidence, it sheds.
On this road, there I go,Seeing, the path is cut deep,Seeing, there’s no time to weep,With bruises and distractions, being part of the show,I know, fragrance, petals and thorns, it beds.
On this road, there I go,Knowing, what it costs to play a star,Knowing, everyone will bring you a scar,With loneliness and crowd, being part of the show,I know, on emotions, masks and boundaries, it breeds.
But, I still love this road,For all, it has offered me,Between us, for that sharing bond,Let it, silence be.Don’t know, if this road loves me,Maybe yes, maybe no,Feel like,I must offer myself, for us to grow.
100
Child
The child stays, an adult has come out,Innocence plays, childhood in glass vault,Pure love is the only form which gives,Not cares in one or two piece,Hurt is on the surface not only buried inside,Hard to see, as disguised by aroma of peace,Impossible to break, impossible to forget,If it was easy, would have already died,Keeps alive, because through cracks it breathes,Painless it wanted ever to be,For the trustworthy shoulder, it craves but lacks,How could it matter not,How could it ever be forgot,Yes, it’s hard to take up,Yes, it’s nearly impossible to make up,For the scar-less punches,For the woundless bullets,But still,The child stays, the adult has to go away,Innocence plays,Childhood,In the arms, it dances and lay.
101
The Soul Within
There is a face beneath the skin,Sensitive and can burst like a balloon when kissed by a pin.
It sees the whole world,Reacts freely and wants every eye on it,Knows, no-one’s bothering about it,And hopes to get free without a fit.
It cries and laughs like a baby,Roars like a lion,Loves like a mother,Living alone in this world of emotions,Knowing that, for himself, there’s no-one to bother.
It may have a lot of congestion,It may be ready for confession,It may be your life’s biggest domination,But the soul within is a true expression.
Has this face ever tried to come out And run in the world’s race?Or is it scared to stand naked as truth, Face to face in front of every face.
102
When My Dead-Body Got Burnt
When my dead body got burnt,The soul lost its fighting front,And they say,I go back from where I was being sent.My body is being lit up,I can feel the fire growing,Body and soul getting split up,My brain, like the lion, it roaring,The fire gave me a prick, a cyclone started,Every life left in my body slashed and smashed from inside,Just when the fire was getting up.Now, I am the fuel of flame,After every single second, I can’t feel the same,I feel needles of fire entering without shame,And I know that extinction is fire’s ultimate aim.I looked like burning gold,Still I can’t be sold,In this, I can’t even grow old,Until the end, there’s no hold,And I am completely powdered,When my burning body got cold.
103
When feeling & thoughts breathe fresh air coupled with a continuous
drizzle throughout the night, which in turn is supported by almost inaudible
music, then words take their own form, own expression.
104
I ; if
I want to say more,Acceptance or denial,I am not sure,Though the thoughts are growing,Don’t know,If I am hiding or showing,Though the actions are surfacing,Don’t know,If I am faming or defacing,Though the words are being formed,Don’t know,If I am calm or stormed,Though there is no sound,Don’t know,If I am quiet or everyone else is.
105
So
And it rained tonight,But now, the stars are shinning bright,There is no bird singing in the night,Why everyone loves the light,Undoubtedly, black is not white,But, it just doesn’t feel right.
106
Be it
None-the-less, all the better,Infuriate the symphony,Don’t let the mad-man stutter.A tinge of sweetness from the hate letter,Those words are a mess,The idea, the hate, the feeling,It does impress.Be it the blues,That you differentiate, from the blue of the sky,Be it the red,That you excruciate, from the skin of lie,Be it the choices,That you amputate, from the innocence of a child,Be it the stability,That you create, from the taxidermy of a wild.
107
Cheerful Sacrifice
Piece of paper glides along the wind,Floating, diving, surviving, it oozes freedom,Like the rhythm of a song,The paper performs.
A drop of rain touches the paper,Floating, diving, surviving, it oozes confidence,Like the lyrics of a song,Paper absorbs the drop & dances along the wind.
A dust particle scratches the paper,Floating, diving, surviving, it oozes humility,Like the dip of sound in a song,Paper accepts the pain & smiles with the wind.
Piece of paper glides along the wind,But now, it glides for the wind.
108
Moment Crumbs
I am scribbling,Waiting for an angel,The time feels slow & rusty,The smoke gets in & soothes,It kisses the eyes & soothes,It swirls & dances & soothes.The night is dark, maybe beautiful,I am roaming, maybe dutiful.The ash goes away, falling & flying,The breath goes away, falling & flying.Guitar plays the strum,String pinches the finger.Silence, I’ve found,Solace, I’ve acquired,Peace, I require,Feet under/into the ground.
109
Glimpse of a Trick
Words hanging in mid air,Forming thoughts & memories,Some good, some broken, some covered, some bare.
Colours hanging in mid air,Forming days & nights,Some brighter, some dimmer, some there, some here.
Birds flying in mid air,Forming groups & shapes,Some singing, some dancing, some fall, some dare.
Clouds moving in the sky,Forming endless imaginations,Some expected, some unexpected, some low, some high.
110
You !
This is where wild wishes are,So, make a wild one,Let’s see, how bad can you get,Let’s see the dirt in you,Can you shoplift a life or two,Or just be the sleepy student of death,You seem to run out of something,Is it the dirt,Is it the life,Or is it the breath.
You haven’t given your best yet,I see, only a mountain full of dirt,You’ve got more in you,Like those children have in them,Like those animals have in them,Like those maniacs have in them,Like those wilds have in them,Like those lines have in them.
111
Untamed DesiresThe core burns freely,The flames aren’t that tall,Nor they rise, neither they fall,Do they want anything,Yes, yes, yes, they do,They want that crown,Not just you,Not just your power,Not just your wolves, tigers & knives.It is already around you,In the smoke that you see,In the air that you feel,In the eyes that follow you,In the body-counts that are unfinished,In the dolls that are mounted,In the breaths that are counted.Don’t look for the eye of this storm,It will screech you vision,It will make you a blind vision(ed) man with two working eyes,Don’t look for the brain of this psychopath,It will eat your thoughts,It will make you a civil man with a mad flesh inside your head.So, be careful when it burns around you,It will make you the stage,And perform itself upon you,It has eaten many men,All those kings, the powerful & powerless alike,All those dictators, the killed & survived alike,All those mercenaries, the young & old alike,All those leagues, the united & dispersed alike,All those forts, the ashes & standing alike.
112
“MULTIPLES COINS, SIMILAR SIDES”“WHAT STAYS UP, WHAT COMES
DOWN”“SOMETIMES A GAMBLE”
113
Green Grass
The morning dew kissed the grass green,And the tiny water droplets created a beautiful scene.The grass sparkled like a diamond,Just when the sun’s rays touched from end.In one view,It looks like a mesh,When felt, it is always fresh.They are connected like one breath with another,And protect each other like child by a mother.When the grass is touched and kissed by air,It feels joyous and happy,As its being given love, affection and care.The day leaped from dusk to dawn,But the green grass is as fresh as musk.The crimson red light touched the grass again,Just when it was starting to feel some pain,Then began the rain.The danced like a peacock in rain,It threw away all its pain,And looked like an enlightened candle in a dark lane.Each particle forming the grass seemed unique,Its freshness is always at peak,And for its beauty, I just cannot speak.
114
When Sunlight Falls
Towards me the sunlight crawls,Darkness, broken apart, torn around and alas it falls.Touching the air, light makes it invisible,A new day born, with magic indivisible,Making blooming flowers possible.Kissing the greens, life it imparts,Hugging the browns, strength it provides,Making love with different colours, energy it imparts.Glance of light making the dew drops sparkle,Insects waking up like a crackle,What a beautiful view of nature’s tickle,Light being the happiness’ vehicle.
Through the day, light running at its pace,Sometimes begging and sometimes dominatingAre the shadows for space,Making true colours come out, hitting from top to base,Light’s love only for the glowing face.Tired, marching towards the dusk,Light, looking powerful than the creator of tusk,Purity defined by the fragrance musk.Flowers fighting for existence,Greens providing the so called assistance,Browns with unmoved resistance,But the darkness is on persistence.Away from me, the sunlight crawls,Broken apart, torn around and against the darkness,Alas it falls.When sunlight falls.
115
Sleep
Words lessening to define its beauty,Comfort, coziness, all taken care off,Away from the world,Not even a glimpse of it can be shared off,The magical sleep,Only to those who complete their duty.Unlike life, it never discriminates,Beggar or king,Only a hard worker enters sleep’s ring.Envy, it creates,Envious, it makes the green paper.Crying are the voices,Without the happy sleep noises.Pills, drugs, alcohol,The meager illusions,Past, present, future,The inconclusive conclusions,Conditions, thoughts, situations,Sleepless needles dipped into profusion.Motionless bodies with sleep energized soul,Fragrance of breath,Touch of the untouched,Nothingness is the goal.Angel of the night,Fighting front for the hunt,Queen of the right,Comes and goes without even being in sight.Night falls,Lashes cover the eyeballs,Moves silently,Enter the body completely.
116
Shadows
The only dark beauty created by light,Shadows, no matter what, always in sight.They never speak, never react,Never thought about, how they want to act
Shadows hold the proof of existence,Without tem, there is no persistence,They are always in assistance,But still kept at a distance.
When I felt the shadows with assistance,I could perceive the brightness of lightAnd the depth of darkness,And I knew that I was lessening that very distance.
For the first time I gave myselfTo the shadow when we mated,I felt like being reincarnated.
You may be a criminal, a doctor or a waiter holding your tray,But shadows are always with you and never betray.You can’t kill it, you can’t destroy it,It’s your soul, just feel it.
117
Graveyard
The memories got silenced in my brain’s every part,They were just blown away like a card,When I entered the graveyard.The similarity and beauty of tombstones amazed me,But the painful sculptures on graves dazed me.Some graves looked fresh, some old,But the dates on them showed,Some were young and some bold.There stood the naked tree among the greens,Showed that sadness persists even after death,This for the first time in life, I have seen.I am sad to see discrimination even in graves,Some missed their tombstones,Some were given more and some were with lesser space.But protected by ants selflessly,Not even for bones.Up high in the sky, eagles still fly,Snake holes make the graveyard look scary and dry.With passion I saw a grave,Seemed like the person underlying wanted to come out,And was about to crave.Graves had plants grown right into its middle,Looked beautiful, but wasn’t less than a riddle.One grave stood against me,It was screaming and yelling to miss its body and soul,Coz without them,It was like a wingless bee.Some secrets still untold, unsaid and unwritten,Cannot tell anymore,Coz now I am starting to feel emotion-stricken.I heard God“I will save those who love me and protect those who acknowledge me as lord”.
118
The Moonless Sky
Under the moonless sky,The glimpse of a beautiful streak,Neither too strong, nor too weak,The breeze watchfully moves,Neither too frank nor too shy.
Noises or sounds,Low on land and high on grounds,Creatures or crowns,Mere existence glitters the dark downs.
A voice from here,A voice from there,Might be from around or anywhere,Direction is character, strength is the aim,Resilience can be felt,No voice is unheard without being dealt.
A light from here,Alight from there,Might be from around or anywhere,Consistency unaltered and illumination still served.
A million moons under the moonless sky,Still the spirit of night stands tall and high,Disfigured, maybe dismantled,These million moons,Collectively their shine,Compared to moon is rather shy.
Nothing from here,Nothing from there,Nothing from around or anywhere,Time seems not to be felt,Breeze seems not to be travelled,Light seems not to be released,Emptiness filled by peace,
119
Seemed like,The heavens’ longest lease.
120
The Axe
It kills, it crushes,Can destroy any tree even in less than an hour,Seems like the world’s most ruthless power,But from inside, it doesn’t want to touch even a flower.
It cries and hits the tree,Again, it cries and hits the tree,Looks up high in the sky and asks god,Why, the death toll rises due to me.
There may be sun, may be dark,Never fears a lion’s roar or a lightning’s spark,It goes on and on and on,Until the death is marked.
It shows the aggression of a slayer,With its rage on fire, it can bring out the truth bare,Holds the ruthlessness with a positive dare,But, no-one in this world listens to its prayers.
The irony of this situation will always go,It doesn’t matter whether the axe wants or not to blow,It is the master, who will decide,Whether the axe removes the dark or cuts the golden glow.
121
Ocean & RiverOcean stared at the coming river,It gave the impression,As if a frog was aiming at a bee.Ocean stared at the coming river,It gave the impression,As if a mother was waiting for her child,Who was running towards her, free.
Was it the duplicity of the situation,Or,Was it the situation’s aggressive domination,over my mind to duplicate my thoughts,I couldn’t differentiate.
Was the river so scared,As if it was to be hanged, killed & murdered,Or,Was it so happy,To be accepted, loved & hugged,As it entered the ocean,I couldn’t differentiate.
The river entered the ocean,As the soul entered God’s love,The first part of river kissed the ocean,And the fell in love.The moment became so sensuous,It seemed as if a man & a woman,Were becoming two bodies & one soul.
On the other side of this moment,It seemed as if life was entering a hell of death,The colossal, voluminous & measureless ocean,Stood against the river,Which then seemed petite, mere & helpless.
The river gave it all what it had,But the ocean gulped the river,Without measuring what it had.
122
The valiant, tough & bold river,Was forced to relinquish itself,Against the cruel, vicious & murderous ocean.
Was it a short-lived moment,Or,Was it the longest moment,The world would have witnessed,I couldn’t differentiate.Was it a sacrificing & unending story of love,Or,Was it the cruel murder of a child,By the bloodthirsty pitiless & ferocious animal,I couldn’t differentiate.
123
Glance at Fog & Light
The lights around me seemed to cover me,Or rather they were just were hovering around my mind,The brightness of lights stopped me to think,Everything else,But,Were making me ask a question,“Am I running from something or Am I running for something?”
The energy of light seemed as if it bloomed out of itself and became my world for a few seconds. The innocence of those lights was as if a beautiful silent taciturn woman is trying to enjoy her first ever dinner with the man of her dreams. It was like the woman was enjoying and explaining herself without even actions.It was simply beautiful.
The intensity was convincingly valiant. Its courageous spirit was either fighting with the fog for its existence or its defenselessness & sacrificing love was trying to leave its life for the fog,I couldn’t differentiate.
Was it the most crucial & decisive moment of the fight between the light and the fog,Or,Was it just the beginning of another unending sacrificing story,I couldn’t differentiate.The life of that moment was short-lived,Or,Was it the longest moment I ever saw,I couldn’t differentiate.
Each particle of fog held back that moment for me. The fog helped me to see that moment thousand times in a single glance.
The fog was bombing the light with its vastness & looked invincible,But the light fought like a warrior left alone with skills which were taught to it in the childhood,OrWas it the most mysterious form of love the whole world would have witnesses,
124
I couldn’t differentiate.
At last the fog dominated it all and now I could differentiate that the moment was the voluntary relinquishment of the light’s love against the powerful, ruthless & vicious fog.Now, the fog around seems to cover me,Or, Rather it was hovering over my mind.
Whether, the light was running,From the fog, Or for the fog,I couldn’t differentiate.
125
LET’S TRY TO EXPRESS SOMETHING UNCANNY, STIRRING IN CHAOS.
126
I am ; Remember
Come to me son, come to me daughter,Be scared, be terrified, hear my laughter,I am the father you never want to face,I am the birth-giver, you never want to be born off,I am the master you never want to be the pupil of,I am the medicine you can’t survive,I am the weight that splits your core,I am those eyes that screech your soul,I am the hands that keep you down,I am the legs that kick you around,I am the smile that grows on your pain,I am the heat that evaporates your rain,I am the darkness that eats your sun,I am the terror that makes you run.
I am watching your every step,For right, to make it wrong,For wrong, to make it worse,For worse, to make it a curse.
I am the reason for your every fall,For shallow, to make it deep,For deep, to make it deeper,For deeper, to make it a failure-reaper.
I am the noise for your silence,For soothing, to make it un-enjoyable,\For un-enjoyable, to make it un-bearable,For un-bearable, to make it un-forgivable.
Remember,I will come to get you,Remember, I am coming to get you,Remember,I have gripped you.
127
A Moment
When she gave birth, she felt hollow,Train of thoughts barged in & derailed,When she touched the child,Dearth of peace, she had to swallow,Ship of emotions got stuck & never sailed.
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Fume-In
Sick belly buttons,Cobras in birthplace of tyranny,Mohawks settled in,Picks and fingers, all the same,Children and old alike,A game-show of entertainment,Microphone numbing the pleasures,Bald headed eagles,Mascara hidden bruises,Dark-circled souls,A tone to set the tune,Followers of anarchy,Repetition of addiction,Flames disguised as bare flesh,Innocence surviving in smoke puffs,Every movement unbarred,Every thought unscarred, Relay and overlaying replay,White clothed baby-doll,Dark tattooed neck,The colour is of no use,Failure of the obvious.
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Certain Animal
Certain kind of animal it is,Observing, perceiving, reacting,Playing, staying, craving,Welcome to the world of uncertainties,Welcome to the brain of distorted realities,Welcome to the chaos of peace, Welcome to the love of smearing,Certain kind of predator it is,Roaming, stalking, gripping,Growling, smelling, circling,Welcome to the world of wild,Welcome to the cacophony of hoots,Welcome to the space of clinked chains,Appears to look so mild,Sounds as the symphony from music’s roots,Feels as the space of destructive brains,Certain kind of animal it is.
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Again ?
Half broken support,But still, he is sport,Never caring, only chasing,Runs after you,Makes you sick,Hunts you down,Pins you down,Puts the barrel of a .45 in your mouth,Pulls the trigger,But, no shot fired,The fear sets in even deep,Takes out a blunt knife,Gives you the scars, you never thought existed,Throws the knife away,Your screams don’t make it to your mouth,Sweetness falls in,The wait for death is impatient,But he is not done yet,Puts the barrel of a .45 in your mouth,But the trigger fails, again.
131
Assassins
They wear black & bring out red,No one knows whether they are alive or dead,Professional killers, serial killers or maniacs,They never take anyone on their backs,They betray their shadows,Have no hand over their heads,They are negatively planned,Always walk over dead,They love death but protect their own life,Don’t have kids not even a wife,In one or the other,They just hate life,Sometimes they get badly bruised,But never, not even once,They are amused,Go to bed & have sleepless nights,Have nightmares even in sun’s light,Get paid to hurt people,Another call makes another sequel,They are bad, brutal & furious,Are they humans,I am very much curious,Are never found or sent to jail,Those who try against them,Always fail,Their bullets are penetrative,And do complete damage,I wonder, how do they manage.
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And You don’t Dare
And you don’t dare make a stand,Feeling the eyes upon you,Crumbling away, the expectations fall from sky to floor,Feeling the weights that hold you down,The deceiving radar spots a troublesome land,And you are headed to the farthest shore.
It’s a mirror on the wall,Slapping truth reflecting tall,Rise of guilt and fall of grace,The world, the comedian and the other face,It’s a clock on the wrist,Ticking time, violent fist.
No, it doesn’t feel right this time,On this course of life, you are always crashing,Dreaming on (of) big, you live the low time,Turning the pages around, you found the old highlights,Falling away, like freight train derails thrashing,Turning the stones around, you lost the new highlights.
A life that you always wanted,Not like the one, you took for granted,And you don’t dare make a stand,You have had it all,From sticks and stones to the big headed horns,Instead of roses, you found only thorns,And you don’t dare pick yourself up from the land.
133
Fall Of Guilt
Can feel those words banging in the head,That guilt for the conscience,That past in the record.
No end for the end,No start for the morning, No sleep for the eyes,No rest for the mind.
Tension builds up,Like the never ending pillars,Failures add up,Can’t even complete the easiest,Worst competing for the best.
Can feel those words banging in the head,That guilt for the conscience,That past in the record.
Pain, agony, remorse,Shadow grows as the source of light shows,Suffering, dismay, repent,Bizarre vision, overflow emotion,Thoughts are aimless,Untied from happiness.
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When Everything Goes Wrong
When everything goes wrong,Desperate selections are hurried,Innocent emotions are buried,And you can’t rely on anything for either too short or too long.Every move goes fruitless,You feel like going powerless,Trying to move yourself more or less,But again,Get kicked out of the way by the ruthless.
When everything goes wrong,You are down under,Stationed by rain, lightning and thunder,You can’t afford even a small mistake,Coz everything is at stake,And you are trying desperately to hold on,But you can’t rely on anything for either too short or too long.Your mind goes down the hell,Works bitterly even than that of mind of a frog in the well,The mind thinks negative,Takes negative and gives negative,Coz, the harsh and cruel never lets you dwell.
When everything goes wrong,Your mind wants to purge,Negativity comes in surge,You can’t make moves in urge,Patience crucifies the wrong,Resistance torments the wrong,And now,Can you rely on anything for either too short or too long??
135
Bad Seed
I was once a bad seed,I almost choked your throat,Now I am a worse deed,Now I will sink your boat.
Come, open up,Let me in & we will see,No, I won’t let you spit up,Standing, in your life & death,It’s only you and me.
I was once a young brat,I almost ran over your other child,Now, I am out of prison with a record of this & that,Now, I will make you run naked & wild.
Won’t you let me in,Don’t you want a hug,No, I won’t let you hide beside the bin,I will be in your head,A life sucking bug.
I was once a bad thought,I almost raped your daughter,Now, I am the worst kind of brain clot,Now, I will bring your trusts to the slaughter.
Just try me once,I will be another shot of adrenaline,Once it starts,You will be in a devil’s dance,I won’t let you fall,Though I will make you crawl,Life will never be hard again,Death is your lover again,You know, you are addicted,You are in the Lucifer’s trance.
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Don’t LiveChoke, choke, choke,On the too much blood,You’ve been drinking,Let the air be less,For too many emotions,You’ve been eating,Let the tears be more,For the too many falls,You’ve been witnessing,Let the neck crush itself,For the too much pain,You’ve been inflicting,Let the hands shake,For the too many moments,You’ve been bashing,Let the legs tremble,For the too many nights,You’ve been cold,Let the core be burnt,For the too many slaps,You’ve hit on the heart,Let the brain be bled,For the too many missiles,You’ve launched from your tongue,Let the soul be lost,For too many times,Nothing, you’ve done.Die, die, dies, Just die.
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Unlearnt LessonI open door,And you come inside,I see, you are not alone,There are a few by your side.I stand strong to offer you,Something more or less, for a while,You just stare me, up & down,And don’t even smile.I wait to see what happens,And then the show begins.You take me up,In the thrust of your strides,You rake me up,In the glance of your tides,You shook my soul,Through the love of your hate,You ate me too,I wasn’t just a bait.There were many choices,But to lose control,You put crisis in my fears,I was not just locked into the vault,Instead of salt,You made chilies come out in my tears.You never knew who I am,You will never know who I was,I am the house that you incinerated,I am the death valley that you created,I am the broken leg that your bat kissed,I am the cut open flesh which your knife almost missed,I am the reaction you never got,I am the dead to whom justice was never brought,I am the toothless smile,I am your car’s first bloodied mile.
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“HARDWORK & SPONTANIETY”: If taken only one at a time then spark wouldn’t have lasted. But now it has
become a forest fire.
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Format of the poemStanza 1 – part 1; part 2Stanza 2 – part 1; part 2Stanza 3 – part 1; part 2Stanza 4 – part 1; part 2Stanza 5 – part 1; part 2
Fourteen x Two x Five
Stanza 1 --- Part 1New-fangled, the love has taken its form,Chirps, smiles, kisses and hugs,Untangled, the hair of new born is in accordance with the norm,Parents, relatives, kin(s) ---- beers and mugs,The child is welcomed with love unasked,Joy and happiness, fits all in the air,The child is hugged minute after minute, being un-basked, Warmth and touch, fits all in the air,One cough by the child, taking ’em all to their feet,Kiss and milk of mother,First sneeze by the child, making ‘em all feel sweet,Hug and pride of father,The ambience has decorated life with acceptance,The life has presented the baby as a glorified present with concurrence.Stanza 1 --- Part 2Newly-fanged, the poison has taken its form,Broken bones, raped body, torn apart soul,Freshly-banged, the face wounded in accordance with a drunken man’s norm,Violent bullies, fresh gunpowder, needle supported temper, all to play their roles,The child is red with blood unasked,Just another bruise alongside five stitches,The child is trembling with shaking un-basked,Just another pair of fingers in the live plug with five switches,One slap session to child, making ‘em all to raise their bets,Resistance, aggression, marks of glorious defeat,One stare by the child, making ‘em all to secrete their sweat,
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Splintered finger, stitched eye-brow, making of a criminal standing on his feet,The ambience had corrupted the life with malfeasance,The life has presented the baby as a present with negligence.
Stanza 2 --- Part 1World illuminated by the sun,Tall, taller, tallest --- the buildings, the success, the rise,Green is the colour given to life,The fragrance of first rain during the heat,World’s map on the birthday bun,Tall, taller, tallest --- the spirit, the hard-work, the surprise,Smile is the embrace given to life,The acceptance by the first rain for the heat,An artist, a poet, a painter, an expressionist, is developed,The marvels of modern minds,A marathon for the present times,The name of an artist, a poet, a painter, an expressionist, is happily spelt,The ease with which problems get grind,A tinge for the glass of water by limes.Stanza 2 --- Part 2World sparkled by the flashing gun,Tall, taller, tallest --- the devil stands,Red is the colour taken from life,The taste of first kiss before a rape,World as an empire, the present on birthday bun,Tall, taller, tallest --- the devil stands,Stitches instead of smile given to life,The sound of last slap after a rape,A killer, a bone-breaker, a sniper, is hired,The twinge by unsteady minds,A massacre for the present times,The killer, the bone-breaker, the sniper, all can be the elements of a satire,The ease with which bodies get grind,A death-show for the glass of thirst topped with lime.
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Stanza 3 --- Part 1Failures are perceived as the cement for success,Each fall brings a rise, each rise (now) being taller,A pat on the back,A cheerful face in the morning,Hug from each kin, supported by love, (in) excess,With feet grounded & triumph unbounded, ego is smaller,Rack of books and library in the rack,A confident face for the morning,The partner in the making,The bonding, the feelings, defined by love,The actuation for the complementary life,Us against the problems, granted and taking,The touch, the innocence, defined by love,The man for dynamic and cheerful wife.Stanza 3 --- Part 2Failures are salted wounds as a lament from success,Each fall brings a pit, each pit from the top (now) being taller,A dent on the back,A cold face in the morning,Pinch from each kin, supported by scratches and hate, (in) excess,With no ground under the feet & triumph unbounded, ego is taller,Jack of hearts and unpacked cards, ruffled from the stacks,A bruised face for the morning,That partner in the making,The frustration, the hate, feelings of so called love,The sharpening of complementary knife,Me against you, granted and taking,Either me or you, Still confusion and congestion, all of the above,The clan from forced and beaten wife.
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Stanza 4 --- Part 1The journey of man from dawn to dusk,Achievements un-barred, love un-scarred,Thoughts and elements, some left, many taken,Chunks of good food, distributed and donated,Inspirations and experiences, breath-taking,That peace and appraisal for the first light of sun,The journey of fragrance from nothing to musk,Smiles un-barred, love un-scarred,Subtle proportions, some left, many taken,Chunks of good mood, distributed and donated,Observations and stories, breath-taking,That patience and curiosity for the first taste of bun,Time has come to hang the boots,Standing tree, aching with fruits, from sky to roots.Stanza 4 --- Part 2The journey of man from dusk but not to dawn,Achievements un-barred, hate, frustration, violence, all decorated and scarred,Guns and bullets, none left, all taken,Chunks of good graves, distributed and donated,Inspirations and experiences, jaw-breaking,The peace and appraisal for the last fight before rise of sun,The journey of stench from sweat to blood,Bullets fired un-barred, hate, frustration and violence, all decorated and scarred,Subtle corruption, none left, all taken,Chunks of drugs, distributed and donated,Observations and stories, soul’s breath-shaking,That patience and curiosity for the first sound from gun,Time itself has arrived to cut the boots,The tree, rotten with fruits, mocked by the sky and waved by the roots.
143
Stanza 5 --- Part 1The death is sitting by the bedside,Caressing the life and willing to forget about the clock,These last breaths are longer than ever,For the fact that life is supported by death today,The peace is sitting by the bedside,Soothing the life and has already forgotten about the clock,These breaths are subtler than ever,For the fact that life is supported by peace today,The contentment is sitting by the bedside,Containing the life and has thrown away the clock,These breaths are easy than ever,For the fact that life is supported by contentment today,The final act is about to be executed,For the time being, silence will be celebration muted.Stanza 5 --- Part 2The devil is hitting the bedside,Caressing life with blood drenched nails and prone to hasten the clock,These last breaths are longer than ever,For the fact that life will be consumed by death today,The devil is hitting the bedside,Soothing the wounds with salt & pepper and the pain slowing down the clock,These breaths are subtler than ever,For the fact that life will be eaten by death today,The devil is hitting the bedside,Mocking the life and derisively laughing with the clock,These breaths are easy than ever,For the fact that life will be tricked by death today,The final act has already started,For the time being, outcry will be celebration muted.
144
Back Again ?
Something changed in that rain,The pace, the fall, the sound of it,Something so tangible that by time,It became intangible,Something so common that by time,It became uncommon,Something so real that by time,It became surreal,The proximity of those suspended droplets,It wasn’t like any other site,It wasn’t like any other visual,The war for one another,The race for second and then another,Surprisingly or not surprisingly,As always or rarely,The thoughts couldn’t fit themselves in,The wall couldn’t give any support,The pillow couldn’t give any sleep,The bed couldn’t give any warmth,The darkness couldn’t take away distractions,The silence couldn’t calm the head,The surroundings couldn’t stop intruding,And yet, all of it seems meager,For the flames,Those were burning and still unseen,For the names,Those were never written and still etched,For the times,That never existed but were still a reality,For the truths,That were never spoken but still felt too heavy,The emptiness wasn’t actually empty,The shallowness wasn’t actually shallow,Also, it seemed and didn’t seem,Like a continuous rise,Or like a make break spark,
145
Or like an unseen low rising wave,Or like a night surviving firefly,Or like a non-chirping cricket,Or like a fallen petal of rose,Or like a broken thorn of cactus,Or like a hungry child of a sparrow,Or like the love-filled lick of a dog,Or like a friendly scratch by a lion,Or like a theatrical performance in a recorded movie,Or like an arrow’s journey from bow to death,Or like an uninhibited noise of last breath,Or like a crackling burning of tobacco rolled papers,Or like the clinking of bullet shells,Or like the dirty hands of power lover,Or like the aura around a seer,Or like the voice-over which should never end,Or like the innocent mistakes, which need not being mend.
146
So, It Begins
A puppet,To the curiosity,To the abundance of chaos,To the sparkle of eyes,To the screeching of tyres,Just a puppet,Maybe not,A puppeteer too,A whip too,Too intricate,Too compounded to be single,A funny whip,Defeats the sound,The speed of sound, the sweetness of sound,Repeats the drop above eyebrow,The victim awaits,In surprise,Not in agony,Not in anger,Not in pain,Not in remorse,The cartwheel moves,Intrigues a curious set of eyes,Colours, hah ! colours,Nothing about them,But everything,The intensity, the hue,The variation, the cheating,The defeating, the repeating,Inbred, in nature,Out of a reactionary response,A season of letters,A treason of words,The season begins,Or ends or begins again,A cycle of its own,Close to none, but
147
Far to some,The treason shows up,Smiling, nose to ear,Frowning, ear to nose,Patience is a falling droplet,Touch of a whip,Cacophony on the details,Symphony in the ant-hill,The order, the ranks,No sympathy, no empathy,Treasured coal,White charcoal,Black gold,Red sky, painted bold,Blues, greens,Too mainstream, too bold,The dice throws up,Six, three,Two, four,A single, a lone fighter,A couple, bound by laws,But love, now tighter,Another dice throws up,The empty one laughs,And the season begins,The treason begins,Or ends or begins again,A cycle of its own.
148
Flashes
And it brings something to the face,A different expression,A combination of some peculiar muscles move,A certain calm and some fickle groove,Eyes roam around too much,For this and that,Such and such,A glimpse here,An attraction there,The quest remains,For the young and willing,From dollars to shilling,The torn stains,The high three inch pains,Black, red, purple, all fickle,Touch them and they might not tickle,Colours are varied,And surprising too,For the traditions buried,And improvising new,For this shall end,Now, today, that day,For the rules shall bend,Now, today, that day,Makes sense or not,Free or taught,Curious or caught,Use of thy,Use of my,A culture, a danger,A vulture, an endangered,A flow, mixed, confused,An intention, abused by clarity,For the blue shall flow,And red may stop,The one, the two,And the three ?
149
The post or the civil,Both are a threat,The conflict or the border,Both make eyes wet,The start, not taken care of,The greed, oh ! yes ! The greed,Now, it ends,Or something ends,The blue is full,The red is full,Not talking about three,Head still not free.
