Under the tree

Pushed away by the wind
the little drops of rain
run towards her for a hurried kiss.
Heavy with the rain, the tree droops
as if to curtain off this scene.
Our eyes meet as fellow refugees
eagerly exchanging their stories.
It feels forever under the tree
as rain resounds like applause.
She inquires if it would stop
I flinch and ask back, what?
She says rain, I pray again.

Reason

I walk through the lanes of lines
like in the aisles of a library.
I make my way to the window of meaning
where the beams of essence bend
through the glass of perception.
Dust sparkles in those beams
filling them with commotion
like our wandering lives
trying to escape reason.

Clock

The clock is dying.
The seconds hand is convulsing
like a dying man and the other two hands
are helpless near and dear.
It shows 3:20
It might have slowed down much before
like grand father did, before he died.
It was his clock anyways.
It feels good to see time being helpless
without ticking away hurriedly
like a night watchman in early hours.

Love

How it starts and how it ends
How it bends and then extends
How it breaches and then reaches
How there is never enough of it
How it makes our lives bit by bit.
How little squabbles turn out
How naughtiness would sprout
How it is one of the purest
How it is one of the surest
How it spans the entire universe
How it is present in a humble verse
How sacrifice makes clear sense
How sometimes there is no sense
How tears dry in each others faces
How elastic it is through all the phases
How one day it might breakup
How one day it might end up.

From a distance

From a distance, things that stand apart
appear to be near, like the moon and hills
and close brush offs are distances
that are never covered in life times.
The distances between minds are ever increasing
like the girth of universe.
There is more dark matter and light
like hope is tired of swimming through
groping its direction and reaching a finish line
which has already moved further into darkness.
All light dies at some place. It burns out.
I don't think darkness is declared a winner either.
There is just a moment of elevator silence
and a new beam begins to chase darkness.

Laika

A stray dog from the streets of Moscow
found its calling in the outer space.
It was caught gazing for hours and hours
at the endless night sky .
Sufficient amount of practice, they thought
and cannoned it along with oxygen and food
A small wag for a dog
but a giant push for the dogkind.
Till date it remains the only dog
to break away into outer space.
Nothing is ever the same.
Now the dogs look up to the moon
and howl in unison.
They had even invented a hoax that
it was deported to Siberia.
But they all believed it went some place nice.
Since then, a number of dogs strayed
onto the streets, all over the world.
They are all sterilized
and with the moon in their eyes
they wait for Khrushchev.

Pillion rider

When the hand holding the bicycle in balance
loosens the grip for the first time
there is an emptiness that you feel.
Soon enough, you are occupied with the ride
forgetting about the pillion riding void.
It hasn't left you though.
Riding along as you go
it occupies the nearest seat.
You might crowd the journey
but there are gaps, wedged deep
like the fissures in a dry field.
In those gaps amidst the arid moments
sprouts the emptiness like a summer weed.
Like the uncleared guilt it surfaces
at odd times and you shudder
for a moment long, of pure loneliness
buoying on the undulating waters of time.

Insanity

Insanity does easy time travel
It takes less luggage
and is more comforting.
Images and stories
that lay yellowing
between the warped pages of time
are connected to the present.
And then ruminations happen
drawing parallels and perpendiculars
on varied topologies of perception.
This happens mostly when we are happy
That too when we are happy for no reason.
If there is a reason and we have got ourselves
pivoted like the ruffling calender in the wind.
There is a happiness in travelling along
not knowing where we are going
but knowing that we are just going.

Stars and Dreams

The stars in the night sky
are just like our dreams.
Many of them might have died
a lonely death, but still
their twinkle travels afar
and amuses us
as if they are alive.

Despair, Hope and Laughter

On the shoulders of hope
Despair has a respite.
Hope is a breather for it too.
And like all other breathers
it has a momentary brightness
catching us unawares with
half asleep eyes and spooky poses.

We don't take our snaps in sad times
except when one is on the death bed
and there isn't a photo for the memorial.
Then we rush to click that last snap.

At all the other, less great moments too
we should have our photos taken.
Believe me, look closely
our faces are twice as funny
as they are in the normal times.

In more desperate times
when our minds are tangents
to the circle of insanity
our faces gain a funny shade.

This is true.
Listen carefully
there is laughter in the air
like the buzzing of a bee.

It ricochets right off your face
because when laughter meets the joke
it becomes bigger and bigger
like the growing insanity
and spans till infinity
in a leaky cosmic darkness.

Inspired

He pulls himself together
Breathes in the magnificence
And gets inspired all through
A wounded lion.
He has been this all his life
Wounded and inspired
Wounded and inspired.

He knows these moments
are the weakest links in the chain of thoughts.
But still does it, gets inspired
like the teenager sniffing coke
and enjoying the lightness it brings
as it traverses to the brain
numbing it for a moment.

There is an emptiness that follows inspiration.
An irrational trance of being lifted, uplifted.
Though, there is nothing like that for the day.
Next day is another quest-
for the inspiration , for that trance.