Resolution

Dreams that take off
Without the leash of fear
Without little hiccups of reason
Without the pillows of feigned detachment
Without the reserves of mental strength
Built for stillborns that are yet to be conceived

Like a dancer dancing
Not for her audience
Like the sound of a flute
In an open field
Like a brilliant bird
Against a brilliant Sun

Without any cushions of
Careful damage control
Without prayer, without pledge
Like a little boy flying his kite
In a crowded colorful sky

This year, and for each one
That comes later,
My dreams are going to be
Fearless men on horses
Without any armour.

Cleaning up

Cleaning up always starts with a mess
So many silent defeats to bear
Before the soul shrugs off mind
Clinging to her knees!
And that moment is not propelling
It reverts back sometimes
Too hot a day or a sudden urge
To call a friend who is far away :)
But when the nagging from the inside
Overpowers temptation
It all starts over again.
Folding, washing, putting away
Pairing lonely socks after days
Of wearing mismatched couples
Under an unsuspecting pair of pants
Putting books in boxes
(After losing yourself in each one of them
For a time too long to make up for)
It is always a balance between
Distractions and Duties
Impulses and Plans
Dreams and Reality

Cleaning up is never easy
A house or a mind, it is equally difficult!

Action and reaction

What i do is not who I am
For then I could be
All the triumphs and failures
In their pride and humility

What i do changes shadows
As the Sun makes His round
So it could seem like a tall black cloud
But it will vanish by sundown

What i do, is not always a clay pot
But sometimes it is done like a River
Where rivulets of Time, Place and Change
Give it an uncertain Forever

What i do, is not always liked
Not even by the hands that make it
But then even Action has a breath of her own
And I cannot forsake it!

i will do a lot of things
For as long as I can be
But I promise to give up all the applause
As long as what i do is not Me.

Lab Poetry

Sometimes thoughts vaporize
As words under the gentle
And sometimes not so gentle
Heating of anxiety.

But sometimes,
They need to be burnt.
With silence.

Both lead to the same end.
Something that cannot be burnt
Or vaporized!

Song of Men (and Women)

He says He likes the one
Who does not grieve
Who treats Sadness and Joy alike
Undisturbed by Anger, Jealousy
And Envy alike.

But then what about
The beauty of Sorrow?
Those tired eyes after
A long torrent of tears?
Sitting by the window
With a cup of hot tea
And realizing that a
Few years down the line
This would not hurt as much
As it does now.

And what about all the Revolutions,
That Anger triggers inside?
Changes the entire face
Of even an insignificant existence?
And what about all his feathers?
Of Shame, Pride and Longing
They are heavy to carry around
But magnificent when he opens them all
On the day it rains Humiliation!

Who would then fall in Love
With all their heart and be turned down
Just to turn it into a poem?
Who would write with their tears?
Who would read with a sigh?

These circles of Sorrow
Of being reborn again and again
All in one life, have their own little Book.
That is being written and said in parts
And not written and unsaid in others
Forgotten, suppressed, abused, exploited
Debated across boundaries of Cultures
This is the Song of Men (and Women).

Soul Window

The torrent has passed

And I am calm, lying on my bed

Watching the window with half-open blinds

From where the sun sends

His noble fingers inside

In slanting rays

Full of otherwise invisible dust

My soul perched on top of the blind

Free from the shackles of a nagging mind

Innocently wrapped in the morning light!

I pinch my calm to see if I let go

Maybe this is some placebo

Of  all the efforts, so well-prepared

Talking to me on their deathbed?

I wanted this for a long time

This calm, this utterly empty mind

All of a sudden these morning rays

Fill my eyes with an empty gaze

I will see this window everyday

And I can even see it at the same time

God knows how many more will open!

But this window, the way it is today

Can only be once in my lifetime.

Just like the place you cannot go to

All the time, so you take it with you

Everywhere.

There is only one window

That opens into your soul.

And then what is left 

Is a lifetime of  the same memory. :)

Freedom

How will it happen?
Would the last breath
Just leave gracefully
Gathering all her robes
And looking around
One last time
At the place that she
Went in and out for
All these years?

The beautiful body
That wore silver anklets
And a velvet blouse
That shivered in the
Dew-kissed cold
Of a sun-kissed town
The hands that wrote
Cooked and cared
The fingers that played
The violin and turned
Pages of poetry books
The slim waistline
Going broader at times
And slimmer again
Long hair bejeweled
With gardenia
So many sighs passed that chest
So many tears passed those eyes
The little breaths
that choked mid-sentence
And gave in, into a
Speechless teary silence
The blushing in love
And flushing in anger
Years of reading
For the poor tired eyes
Ghost stories told
Yet so many ghosts untold
Lurk around in this moment
Let them out.

They are all to be left
For the ones behind
To be given labels
Because the fight goes on
For all the others.
You are Free.

Is it an experience?
How many have you had
When that breath was still within?
The first kiss.
The first slap
Across your face.
The first few rupees
That you earned on your own.
The first humiliation.
And the first redemption.
Birth. Now this.

The beauty is that it
Cannot be told.
It cannot be written down.
Maybe, not even remembered.
As I analyze yours
I look forward to mine.

Journey of Emptiness

Sometimes we have empty heads

And sometimes empty bellies instead

So much culture and so much art

To fill the insatiable empty heart!

It takes turns too, little bastard!

For when I try and fill up my head

I find it racing into my heart

And hunger strikes, when it races ahead!

In the fleeting moments of satisfaction

When I lie around, a little overfed

All these thoughts of overeating

Make it go back into my head!

It has to be somewhere at all times

Like a counter weight(lessness) 

Takes a while before you know

All the moods of Emptiness

When you make it happen

It is meditation, Depression,

When it comes on its own

Lack of solitude when surrounded

And a silent yearning when alone!

A married man's mistress 

And a bachelor's wife!

It is all that is not 

a part of your life. :)

Today

What we thought

Would be Tomorrow

Yesterday,

Is Today.

It does not have 

The frigid Gloom

Neither the fresh 

Flowers in bloom

It does not personify

The idle reveries 

Of the tired Yesterday

Nor does it make

The nightmares 

Come true. 

Just a little man

Walking his ego-less way

Until I go to bed

It is still Today.

 

Pruning the Dreams a bit

Filing the sharp Nightmares

The Todays turn into Tomorrows

And then long-forgotten Yesterdays.

But the sheer beauty of  the Mind

That calmly toils away

And without fear or hope

It always wakes up to a Today!

Faith

Green and Orange is Brown

Earthy Brown.

But one hundred Green

And one hundred Orange

Rarely ever makes

Two hundred Brown.

Putting White in between

Would not dilute the Green

Or the Orange either.

In the end it would be

The Orange sunlight of the dusk

Gently embracing the Greenery

By the tired Brown River.

So much for colours

And so little or absolute nothing

For the colourless Creator.

Humble Arrogance

I am not worried 

That I do not belong

Or there is no shouting mob

That embraces my anger

I am not worried 

That I do not feel 

Like a stranger among 

Strangers who are all together

I think rivers are beautiful

But I am not worried

About the cows that drink by them

Or the million white heads

Touching the ground 

In an orchestrated unison

I am not worried at all

Of going to a place

That I think is made 

For people like me

Because there isn't!

I am more important

Than all of that

All the belonging 

And letting go..

And I am ready to leave 

Leave it all behind..

For no God is bigger

Than the peace of My mind.

Joy Dynamics

The mysteries of converging dimensions

Of the same Happiness

From a little walk in the park

Sans the pram and daddy's finger

Moving on to a tricycle

A doll complete with a house

With clothes and shoes to match

A bicycle, dresses, shoes,ribbons

Books,books,books,

Expensive books.

Then the all encompassing age of Clothes

Of shoes, handbags and cellphones

Scooters and cars,

Computers and laptops

Then the ever widening horizons

Of replacing things with people

Planned dreams, planned friendships

Planned destinies.

And then escapes..

Happy escapes, musical escapes

Literary escapes, culinary escapes

A very good blender at times

Or a carefully earned chocolate

After a long session of Yoga

China roses in the garden

And then the same walk in the park

Sans dreams and sans shoes!

The

Mysteries of the

Streamline and converging

Definitions of the same

Old Simple

Joy.

Waiting

I wait
On a dusty platform
For an indefinitely delayed train
Amusing myself with
The eternal frenzy of little tea boys
With their aluminum kettles
And serrated glass cups
The newspaper stands
That sell gossip magazines
And that unnerving group of people
Sitting on the platform
With their three course meals in metal tiffins

Sometimes I humor myself
With day dreams of getting on the train
The winding greenery it would unfold
The hot meals and innumerable hot teas
That I would have on my way
To where I want to go..
Or sometimes I read a book
But it is not the same
Because I am waiting..
For an unfairly delayed train

So unjust it is and so frequent too
That I have to wait indefinitely
For the things I want to do
It is not just trains..
I think it is my life too
That leaves these big pregnant corridors
Between what I want badly
And so little that I can do
To get it when I want it

If I could I would fly
But I cannot do it now
I could get angry and barge into
The office of the complacent station master
Who is probably beyond delays and even abuses
I could have tea, but I won't enjoy it
Because this wait is unfair and incredibly painful
I could sit there and cry silently
And replay the usual sequence of waits
That I had to go through since childhood
At least I would get this train..
But what about the other things in Life?
Those corridors that lead to something else
Than what I want to see when they end?
What about them?

Then all of a sudden a little kid
With tattered clothes and a runny nose
Comes around with a harmonium
He sings a horribly discordant love song
Going beyond his years and his vocal cords
But his big black innocent eyes
Are full of some unknown joy
The joy of being able to make money
Out of someone else's painful wait
Or just the joy of being able to sing
Freely and fully, an uninhibited love song
That turns into the biggest comedy
Just because it is sung without the fear
Of consequences.

A ten rupee note into his hands.
For making Waiting worthwhile.

Over-brewed Lament

I still remember the day

When my words plunged you

Into a momentary,still darkness..

I know it was momentary 

Because I am no bigger

Than a moment..or even less..

I remember how you lowered

Your big innocent eyes in sadness

And then a single, lonely tear

Rolled down your shiny cheek

It was not your fault, it was mine

And that tear should have rolled

On my selfish, inconsiderate cheek.

I could not make you smile

So I removed you from my life..

I threw away the letters

I stopped visiting places 

That would make me run into you

When you tried to reach me

I put myself into boxes within boxes

Of cold, distant vacuum.

One day you stopped reaching out

You found your wings, God bless them

And you had your share of eager boys

Fell down a few more times

And realized that it goes in circles..

Love and tears alike.

No one then was like I was once

In your pellucid, innocent eyes

And then one day we happened to meet

In a fruit market in the middle of nowhere

You were haggling for a dozen apples

And I was holding my wife's purse

I knew in an instant that it was you

With your skin, your eyes and your light

You turned around and your glance

Stayed over my face for a split second

In that moment I was hoping

You would freeze from a renewed grief

And the same lonely tear would graze 

Your cheek, now in full blossom.

But you walked past calling out

To the new man in your life..

And the whole market seemed to pause

When he held out his hand for you..

Had you not noticed me at all?

Had you forgotten everything?

I still remember going into great details

To keep all your letters unopened

So that I don't have to reply..

And the ever so recent conversation

With my best friend about how

What I did to you was only because

It was good for you..

And for all that effort 

I do not even get a single tear?

...

Easy Worship

A string of blood red hibiscus
Twenty one together
For Hope and Love
And Prosperity
Most of all Virtue
Sometimes Shelter
From ailments of the body
And mind.
For Knowledge
To get ahead of everyone
Without being ambitious
And for Humility too
Almost at the same time as Ambition!
To get over the Past
To beg for the Future
Vehemently so for Happiness
Of all kinds
For Health and Wealth
For Sons that would beget more
And for a long successful Lineage
Transcending Death
And if all of this happens on time
Then also a bit of Luxury
Money spilling over
And a Castle for the eight hours of rest
That is much needed after twelve spent on the castle. :)
And then a long Life
That is free of disease of any kind.
No wonder Your face is eclipsed
With a million strings like that.

But when I have none to offer
I sit in front of You
And try to be thoughtless.
Then I think of thoughtlessness
And realize how ironical that is
And persevere.
I never get there. But I try.
Sometimes out of sheer exhaustion
Or Your overwhelming presence
It happens for a moment.
In that moment I offer You
My single flower, formless, colorless,
tasteless, devoid of fragrance!
The flower of thoughtlessness
That is so hard to pluck!

The Chemistry of Love

Love exists in allotropic forms.
Happiness could be the purest..
Or let us say most benign?
She is also Fear sometimes
Hiding her hairy moustache
With her transient tears.
In absence of patience or sometimes acceptance
She turns into the serpent
Of a constant,insatiable Anger
Or most of the times
Between wives and sisters
Crystallizes into a putrid substance
Called Jealousy.
She can turn into tyrannical authority
Without any warning
And sometimes extreme disappointment
So much so that every day
Seems like a big burden
There are nicer forms too
Like the one where eyes well up
With hysterical laughter
And all the other allotropes dissolve
Into a warm bubbling concoction
That suddenly makes everything
Seem happily possible
And makes you smile. Involuntarily.
I think that form is Friendship.

Breath

Poor impalpable breath!
Always gets overshadowed
By the opinionated mind.
But keeps his master's house
Clean, by going everywhere
With a bit of fresh air!

He puts his fleshy hands
On his master's shoulders
Only when really needed
When the nagging mind is left
Insufficient and exhausted
He comes out as a sigh!

Or when running up the hill
When the persistent bespectacled bookworm
Is muffled by the throbbing heart
He provides rhythm to the tired master
And prays him to go on.

Sometimes between sobs
Sometimes between laughter
Sometimes singing from a clogged nostril
With the change to an early winter

And in desperate moments of confusion
When the conscious wants to unwind
A deep breath in salvages sanity
From the tortures of the restless mind!

Grace and Gravity

Is Grace the reaction to Gravity?

It could be in the world of 

Trees, Birds and Dancers. 

Or even in the world of the freckled pebble

Thrown by a turbid mind

Into the calm lake that makes

Hypnotic, beautiful ripples. 

A little red dot skiing on a snowy slope

Or a tap dancer trying to make her point

In the gypsy drummer's argument

A butterfly flaunting her weightlessness

And an elephant showing off his gait

To an awestruck angry dog on the street. 

And even in the dimensionless world

Inside the black and blonde heads

Flippant thoughts trying to settle

Sometimes eluded at others deluded

Being pulled towards the core 

But trying to defy it, in their own adamant way. 

And when they eventually gather 

Over a day or a lifetime of fight

They turn into graceful dancers 

Who know when to leap 

And when to give in ..

And gracefully fold on stage!

Sea Meditation

Turquoise blue on golden sand..

Each seems to push ahead

Just a little here and a little there though

They are all like the ones in my head

But sometimes when the wind is right

 And when I get little mirrors for eyes

Sitting on top of  the Yogi rocks

The sea inside looks at the sea outside

One wave at a time, 

And one thought in my mind

Fifty,ninety till I lose the count

And also everything that I left behind..

Fresh air, bright sunshine

And my breath gives me a high tide

Then there is no sea behind my eyes

The sea outside becomes the sea inside!