Gypsy

This earth that I fence,
Never belonged to me..
And it will never belong to anyone
After I am gone..

But all my journeys belong to me
And many may inherit them,
If they get enamoured
By the spirit of moving on!

The smell of a new place,
The silent yearning for the old one,
And then the neat rationalization!
With each new place my mind grows up,
The horizons of fears suddenly shrink,
And a face smiles at me,
From every corner of the room!

Some people carry their homes with them
And build exact replicas far away from home..
And some become the place they are in..
When people drop their barriers to turn into a place,
The place responds too, and turns into her people! :)

And though it is hard to leave,
The Gypsies have to move on..
To be at home everywhere!

Mindstones

There are some who come with maps
And then there are others,
Who dip their feet in paint.

Like a woman turning into her mother,
Impatience, over the years,
Turns into Patience.

There is always a border
And an expiry date to the way,
That people see you!

Too much helplessness
Sometimes, miraculously
Turns into Courage.

Courage is over-rated too!
Could be anything,
From a moth to a grasshopper.

How you breath depends
Solely on the jar,
You are stored in.

It is good to see
A mind smiling back gracefully,
With a few wrinkles around her eyes.

Eve

We still live the story of Adam and Eve
That began with a simple,
Unambiguous Divine instruction,
Of not eating the Fruit of Knowledge.
The innocent, primeval couple left it
Faithfully unquestioned, until..
Their oblivious bliss was choked
Between the glistening coils,
Of a slithering serpent from Hell.
It spun a web of irresistible
Almost compulsive attraction around Eve
And Eve gave in.

She could not hold herself back
From the Fruit, she surrendered!
And the coiling Serpent left,
With the scars of a million Births
On her primal, unsure Womb.

I love Eve.
Even the Garden of Eden faded
In the light of her careless Blunder
And Adam was dragged with her
Into the river of abysmal Sorrow.
Not just Adam, but the entire
Human existence as well!

Although they both created it,
Adam is just the Reason of Chance,
But Eve, in all her beauty,
Is the sole, Reason and Agent of Choice..

She appeals to me, not for the Philosophy
That surrounds her.
I like her way of self-surrender.
She chose her inevitable destiny
To have the fruit
And Lust was born.

Lust is a labyrinth..
Eve may have given us
A lifetime of suffering
But she is also the one
Who opened this labyrinth for us
And showed us the beauty of
An unassuming, empirical God
That is silently superior
To the Obvious.

That is the debt humanity owes her
And can never pay her back!
She stands like a Goddess
In our circles of Lust and Sorrow
Because of her very first surrender..

(Translation of a Grace poem from Marathi)

Shuffle

It is nice to have play lists, and know them well
Then every song ends in a no man's land
And the dream for that song fades with the music
The next one is ready and you know it
You know exactly where it is going to take you
Sometimes when you don't like what you have
The anticipation of the next one gives you the hope
To wait for the music to be on your side..

But then when it is all shuffled up
Like a card palace that just came down
Jazz, classical, rock and blues
with no sequence whatsoever,
Thrown at you one after the other.
There is no time to wait and plan a dream
That goes with the next song on the list
The song and the dream begin at once
It is confusing, disorganized and stressful
Although it is still, in all its beauty and honesty
The same melodious music.

Enough time and you learn somehow
To like what you get than try to get what you like
The unexpected blues on a summer morning
Or the silent meditation on a crowded bus
Then the dreams get twinkle toes
And they don't need all the pomp and planning
To start dancing as soon as the music plays..
The whole effort of constructing play lists
Suddenly seems futile!

Dilemma

Everything needs to be ended
Or revived at some point..
And it happens after constant interrogation
Of the need and the arrogance
Within..

I am on my own, I can start over..
Chop off these magnificent wings
And wait until I grow them again..
Who knows, they might turn out
Stronger, softer.. bursting with color

What if they never grow back?
What if they shrivel up and die?
What if this is the only pair I ever get?
No..I think I better stay with what I have..

I am scared to use them, lest I exhaust
My supply of healthy feathers..
But what is it good for if I can't fly?
I wish I could get a ready, unambiguous answer..

Maybe I should just keep flying
With what I have until I fall down
Unconscious, by a wise, peaceful lake..
Whether it is time for death or revival..
Is what the lake decides.

Same old concept..all over again!

A wandering mind; a floating cloud
Watching a dutiful river flow,
Stretching her arms towards the heavens..
But the Earth never lets her go..
The floating slows down when the cloud
Sprouts her own reluctant water feet
Comes back to fill the thirsty cracks
Where seeds and raindrops secretly meet..

An unwanted celebration once again,
Once again, the same old colors of spring..
Lamenting the return to life
From almost knowing what the heavens sing..
I have seen this all before, over and over
The raindrops with rainbows, and the butterflies
I am so old, yet young all over again
Unheard, unseen by the heaven's eyes..
It is good to be pulled back, I know
To have a ground on a moonless night
But maybe this love of Earth and hearth
Is obsolete beyond that final flight!
Maybe someday I will join,
A gang of darker chimney clouds,
And slip away before mother calls back
Unseen by the noisy crowd..
And then there would be no need
Of a label, a name or even a verse,
For I won't be cloud anymore
I would be the Universe.

Rain Talking to Me

How have you been?
I know it was hot
And I know I am late..
But then this delay is
Worth the look in your eyes..
Your constant peeping out of the window
And melting your gaze
In every pregnant cloud..
I like it all..I do!
That's why I am always late..
I know how I make you feel
You get all your poetry out, don't you?
I make you forget
All the boring realities of your life
Or at least I make them better
When you walk to work
Under an umbrella!
I know I make you a little sad
When I come down at sundown
You don't like to obscure your sunsets
And mix them with uncertain nights..
But when you sit in a corner and weep
And add a few warm ones to mine
The beauty of that sorrow
Makes my short-lived existence worthwhile..
Then when you go to bed,
I turn into a drummer and
Keep you company in your dreams..
I know you want to see me when
You open your eyes,
So I try to stay
Fighting the persistent Sun Rays..
And the smile in your eyes
When you open the window for me
Makes up for the tears
That I brought the night before!
It is funny how you call it my moods!
How you don't like me or like me
At different times..
But just for the sake of conversation,
Are those moods really mine? :)
Stop explaining why you like me
And how you like me for reasons
That are strictly related to the weather
You can tell them all
That you like me, because
We have this thing going on
Between the two of us.
And even if you don't say it..
Everyone knows it by now!