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!