Sunday, June 24, 2007

The silver lining

Days together I gazed at the silver line
And was benighted in the darkness it held within
The darkness has now vanished like of yester night
And I lay blinded, by all sudden light.

Success was often for which I longed
Finally it came and I was totally wronged
About the solace it harbors and warmth it begets
Meanness is all, it often besets.

I conspire, I lie and often sin
To only hold what I did never win
It has made of me a narrow mind
That never thinks of the story behind.

Not content with just the silver line
I prayed for more and earned what's not mine
The fiery light has burnt my soul
And gave it, an all new role

"I do not want this success", I pray
But here, blinded in light, forever I lay.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

A Walk

On a lonely and deserted road, lonelier I stand
Remembering the days we walked hand in hand
But now she is gone to farther lands
I dont think my heart understands

Still my heart longs for her
To walk those roads with a misty blur
The diffused light and smell of the night
All are same as, when it was right.

I trod those roads in a loneliness now
For she is gone, my only love
I never told her, what I felt
Now she is gone and only solitude dwelt.

Does she love me or does she not?
Am I still in her sweet little heart?
Thinking about this, I walk along
And often wonder what went wrong.

Friday, June 15, 2007

The Flower

Standing alone in the garden is a dispirited flower
Thinking its life a wasted one;
For it to feel so is a story behind
The lines that follow reveal its mind

Seeing this world in fresh blossom
Important it felt, for it inspired many
A bard to pen a new song
A composer to unveil new notes
And many more at their first glance

The bees fed on its nectar
Carrying its fragrance afar
It thought how lucky it was
And pitied the non-flowering grass

It lived in merry and joy
With its image seizing many hearts and minds
For ever this should stay, it thought
But imminent were the things that followed.

There was soon no hovering of bees
No bard describing its fading color
No composer writing its unhappy notes
And no one indeed near

Strange are the ways of the world it thought
It revolves around you at prime
And deserts you when it is time.

The happy song

A crude flute in his hand
With a herd of cattle he would arrive
The green pastures would soon be occupied
He would sit down to enjoy the light and warmth of the morning sun

The hills echo with the music of the dawn
The Sun slowly rises as one giant glowing disk
He would run from end to end in the pastures below
Relishing every bit of it in mellow

He blows life into his flute
For hours he continues to sing
Waiting for any response the lovely air may bring.
But nothing would reach his ears
Heavy hearted he would return
Only to perform the next morn.

The birds, cattle and all life around
Would immerse in his song
Forgetting to respond, they would stand still
Listening to their hearts’ full

The flute is long gone now
But the music still echoes in the hills and beyond
The noises of the dawn now are nothing but his song
For it is a happy one which stays really long.


A roaring sea and a starlit sky
We were there just walking by
The waves going back and forth
Bring back the memories we hold
Some we love and some we loath.

Walking ashore in the shallow waters
We leave no trace and have no leads
Just as we want to forget the past
And explore the unknown vast.

Some stay calm living the moment
Few share to spread the joy
And some search for a spot
Where their memories sank.

Each time the waves wash the shore
They leave a fresh canvas to dabble
We make our momentary mark
And in no time it is lost in the dark.

A roaring sea and a starlit sky
We were there just walking by.

Friday, June 8, 2007


Behind that quick half smile
Hidden are things very fragile
We greatly fear their loss
And never bet them at toss

We try to guard the shortlived
And name them when gone ,"the beloved"
The fragility within, is shattered one day
Halting all that is joyous and gay.

Deep down again, to ourselves, we tell
That this storm would soon quell
That the life within would rise again
And dance with us in the sun and rain.

The storm finally passes
leaving in its wake a deadly calm
Some tend to reason the fate
Some tend to curse and some start believing.

Soon,the joy eclipses the sadness
The melancholies are forgotten and buried
With what is left joyously we move on
Very rarely reminscing the things that are gone

We enjoy this ephemeral joy
Bathe in the triumph and glory
But deep down,another storm ,we fear
And brood the loss of the dear.

Saturday, June 2, 2007

A Prayer in Silence

A silent night in the woods
Full with a silver pool of moon light
The gentle swaying of the trees
As if dancing to the humming breeze

The stillness and the silence
Empty a heavy heart
A feeling of completeness fills it with delight
and imprints on it ,the scenic night

The chimes of the temple bells
add to the humming breeze
I pray in silence for everything to stay
To enjoy a moment so gay

But this melody stays for little time
It just vanishes into the stillness of the night
I wait for it to return
Not realising I have had my turn

About this I would be writing years hence
Recreating in my heart the stillness and silence
Reliving those moments for long
and pening each time a different song.


You create illusions deep and wide
Form many ideas, deny many and retain some
The fancies, the dreams and the triumphs that occur
The pain ,loss, defeat and death
Leave you busy and occupied

You reflect in a language you created
"Are we near to the truth?"
or "Did we just evade?"
In search of the answers you give your side of the story

Different eyes and different stories
Just keep on flowing forever
Searching for the finished mosaic
They stop never

Civilizations are lived around this
Faiths and religions are born
In fighting for "their" truth, their lives are torn
Never they realize that all is an illusion
Some do and fight for it
and at the same time transforming into unrealized

May be all the above is just another illusion
May be another mind and another story
But never ever will there be one story
Which describes it all
for there are many minds and many more illusions.