Wednesday, July 31, 2019
The Boat of Heart
Drifting on the boat of heart
without a longing
It looks same, the new same
everywhere
Evening
a sun squeezed evening
Wind crawls through the knuckles
circling gently around blades of grass
A fresh evening scent
Life
waits on both the sides
yearning to be lived
Serene
Wild flowers live in hope
sweet and decadent
the whispers of river
The river is gentle
It sounds calm
when the oars cut it across
It sounds way simple
without a longing
It looks same, the new same
everywhere
Evening
a sun squeezed evening
Wind crawls through the knuckles
circling gently around blades of grass
A fresh evening scent
Life
waits on both the sides
yearning to be lived
Serene
Wild flowers live in hope
sweet and decadent
the whispers of river
The river is gentle
It sounds calm
when the oars cut it across
It sounds way simple
.
Friday, May 24, 2019
A Dog, A Butterfly
One unkempt, infected dog
in its heat
barks at flowers
burdened to the core
with its frenzied displeasure
against anything beautiful
or nearly close to it
Hanging low from
the other side of wall
are green scared branches
with flowers in white
almost dried under the
burning callous sun
Insanity of the bark
carries far
A few passer-by
hurl at it stones
casually, or
out of thirst
Hardly any shade around
straight built walls
A butterfly appears from
nowhere
sits quietly on its back
and starts licking
its maddened
dishevelled fur
around where
fleas had always
been shitting
and making merry
The butterfly holds up
gently,
patiently,
thoroughly
The fleas
flee
one by one
This dog with burning eyes,
almost always
had a frothing mouth
A soft touch
was awaited for long
The incessant howling stops.
People tend to seek roses-
but only the good roses
That was the only instance of love
I ever witnessed
.
A Late Night Cigarette Seller
Crossing the road
on my way out of a bar
I saw around the corner
a late night cigarette seller
carrying his stuff on a tray
hanging by his shoulders
Hurriedly I asked
for a mouth freshener
before getting into my ride
But just as I looked into my wallet
I realised that I didn't have any
change
So I told him not to mind
whatever I had asked for
as I didn't have any change
and I got inside the car
While the car was swerving around
to find a way out
he quickly tore a sachet
and handed me over
indicating offhandedly
that I still keep it
He wanted me to have it
because he knew that I wanted it
but more so
because perhaps he knew
what wanting felt like
He works late at nights for
every cigarette at hand
for a margin of a rupee or two.
I presume he understands a simple desire
very well
On my way
I decided to look out for him
the next time I get to cross that street
when it occurred to me that
in the quick succession of events
I never could take a look at his face
Now all I have with me
is a nameless, faceless
fifteen year old
late night cigarette seller
one who understood
what simple yearning
could mean to people-
no matter where they came from
or how satisfied they were in their lives
or not
.
Tuesday, May 21, 2019
Dead Hawk
A hawk lying dead
beside railway tracks
over dry gravel stones-
That was the closest
I saw a hawk
It looked like a bloated
small sized black
plastic bag
filled with garbage
abandoned
almost buried
in the hot gravel stones
spit upon in passing
pissed upon in evening
Majesty, nobility etc.
are bonus levels
to hog points
in the game played seriously
by the living
While dead,
this hawk
could have easily
been mistaken
for a regular dead crow
with its beak open
and feathers apart
like how they are usually found
next to a railway track
.
Wednesday, May 08, 2019
A Sigh is A Prayer Not Aware of Itself
Day after day
the ritual evening assessing
of the only liveable possibility
amongst the hundred empty possibilities
with a cigarette in hand
and songs playing on the earphone
Heart yearning constantly
for a way for its wishes
to make through to
its comforting conclusion
A mild rage,
this silent desperation
to make it happen
somehow
anyhow
The song starts rhyming the reverie-
it befriends it
you play it on repeat,
the song inhabits it
This song now
has become an evening prayer
with the smoke of the puff
illuminating the evening clarity
over the just lit lights
and the low flying crows
This is what makes a prayer
a prayer-
the calm will of a warrior
in need of some help
to fight fiercely for
a true longing
Amidst the chaos of the city
and the dimming sky
this narrow lane has become a
holy place
because a prayer has been needed
by a burdened soul
A prayer, this hurt
hurls with the dust
upwards
longing for sky
one day, everyday
all over
Innumerable instances
of this world's inadequacy to provide its humans
the warmth deserved by these humans
Whoever keeps a note?
.
Tuesday, April 02, 2019
A Girl Always Just Two Hands Distance Away
I see
something
quaint
yet ductile
in you,
sensible
but vulnerable
to the ways of
the world yet
to be discovered. I
think
you ought
to charm the
devils of life
to your sweet
inner
seduction.
I like the vibe
of a volunteer in
you.
There will be
hoards of
men
who ought not
to have
kissed you
in your
drunken
ecstasy. And a
few, who
perhaps
deserved it
a bit more.
May you stay a
fair child,
always
Tuesday, March 19, 2019
Time Is The Best Band-Aid
"Time is the best band-aid"
I told her
She hesitated to believe
Pain is hurtful to let go
Like all the other women
she looks lonely
travelling in the ladies' compartment
Only escalator seems gentle to her
It understands
Poor mighty escalator-
cursed to the fate of Sisyphus
He was an artist
She was in awe
A man, most definitely, is hollower than his works
Time, still, is the best band-aid
.
Girls With Zigzag Hearts
With time
I have realized
that the rare periods of
solitude with
unshared, disengaged self
is a better keep than
dispensing time
playing
hide and seek
with ordinary crotches
inside expensive underwear
What I still don't understand
is why
girls with zigzag hearts
and messed up heads
have lively eyes
but
melancholic
cunts
.
Boyhood
I was jinxed
till the spell broke
when for the first time, I saw
a woman nudeThat's when I realized
that without clothes
women are
different creatures
altogether
A different creation
deserving a separate noun-
an abstract noun
a different horoscope
too, perhaps
A trickery
this surreal haunt-
one move
to betray mankind
stealthily
A hypocrisy
A punishment
I was a boy
agape
besieged
grappling with the secret
of this dual existence
But
soon I understood
what business of being a man
would be like
in one serious aspect
.
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