O mine….

O mine, O mine,
I wonder what it’s like to see,
To stumble down a stairway,
Of dreams, desires and all things sweet,
I cannot see the blurry eyes O mine,
Filled with clots if not ancient,
My insecurities, my helplessness and the shards of my ego O mine,
I sleep desperately over pavements,
To hear steps of strangers to sync with my heart,
But O mine, O dear mine, O sweetest mine,
They aren’t you,
For Dolus plays with my heart, my mind and my soul,
He finds happiness in sticking me with glasses sharp,
I bleed in snow,
I bleed in autumn,
And over days when the sun wakes up the little hummingbirds,
But my skin scaled, porous, heals my scars,
For new ones to grow,
I fall down the stairs, consciously,
O mine, O mine,
Can you catch me,
For just this once………….

I write….

A pain radiates from my ribs,
Slow to move, hard to touch,
The one my ghosts speak in days of my penury,
The cracks in my skin,
Ripples in my heart,
The pain usually subsides,
As Sunrises and Sunsets paint my room,
Over mountains ancient and over the clouds new,
Inches away from my bed I herewith reach for my pen,
Tuck neatly within pages of the old annals,
I sometimes write with my hands folded,
And sometimes with eyes that see beyond the stars,
For a pain that radiates sometimes through my umbra,
And onto the ink that fills my pen,
My words the lover, an affair of the century,
I write, I write, I write…..

New beginnings……

I rummage through the graveyard of dreams,
The lost desires and the will to see,
For sometimes I walk over puddles deep,
That source through my devils oh so grim,
The substances that had once belonged mine,
Determination, perseverance and that stubborn grit,
Sitting there idle gambling over the coffin of my skies,
I squat with them, shake hands and bulge them to take up their arms,
As I pick up mine,
For the world is mine and it is mine to see,
The roads traveled and the paths untrodden still,
My voices dumb and mute and unsound,
The frequencies lost in the shriek of the crowds,
For I shall shout and talk aloud,
The bastille of my insecurities shall break,
And bring back the silver in the skies,
And I shall see and see afar,
Farther than the fog and farther than the Equinox,
Till I can see thy self and say it aloud,
It was all worth it, the scars on my arms………

With this post I would like to inform you, my fellow writers of something that is really important to me. Another step towards my career. I have been selected as an inspector in the Customs and Excise Department, Government of India and will be serving the nation towards achieving a better taxation compliance and inclusion of better taxation literacy.

All of you have been really supportive to me and like an extended family that I’ve grown to know for the past 7 years since I had started blogging.

I thank you all for showing me the continued support and guiding me whenever I was lost.

This post is dedicated to all of you 😇😇😇

Thank you

Imperceptible

I slowly dwell into streets lit with amber,
That hold stories told over and over again,
Some of mine and some of yours,
The streets paved and unpaved,
Rough and smooth,

I see places filled with people,
Of times ancient, modern and new,
Hear them as they laugh and cry,
For them the time is just a day,
Age a unit of years passed,

I am fresh and old,
As I dwell into streets lit with amber,
And streets maligned with dark,
For I see beyond the stars,
The quantum of time,
Imperceptible…….

First time

I see dreams wrapped in layers chocolaty,
That ooze of desires sky high,
Slowly that drops over shades of ivory,
Turns them to gold,
And brings them sunshine,
For dreams I see with eyes both open and closed,
As they bring me warmth and a little glee,
That runs across my face,
Everytime I bring them back to life,
Just like the happiness of a boy,
Riding a cycle for the first time……

बस आज

तो क्या हुआ जो आसमाँ आज साफ़ नही,
हवाओं में कुछ गुमशुदा सा है,
कुछ भीगी भीगी सी आस है,
मद्धम सी चल रही नदियाँ हैं,

तो क्या हुआ नींद नहीं आ रही है,
करवटें बदल बदल के तुमने जो रातें काटी हैं,
ना रात गुज़र रही है,
सूरज जैसे कहीं छुपा सा है,

तो क्या हुआ जो रास्ते उलझे उलझे से,
शक के धुएँ में मंज़िल नज़र नहीं आती है,
मैं किस और जाऊँ,
क्या यही मेरी राह गुज़र है,

मैं सोचता सब हूँ,
सोचता शायद कुछ भी नहीं,
एक ख़याल ज़रूर आज आया है,
तो क्या हुआ जो नहीं मैं जो होना था,
जो हूँ शायद नहीं भी होता,
मगर यह ख़याल आज जाने दे,
की आज मैं मुझमें कुछ रहना चाहता हूँ,
की आज बस सोना चाहता हूँ…….

A regular man

I am a regular man,
Who feels the wind on his face,
The cold soft breeze,
Hot and thorny sometimes,
For I see through small viscera,
The fabric of time,
The minuscule, timid that intimidates me sometimes,
As I lay down to relax,
On my bed, my abode,
But I am a regular man,
That sleeps sometimes through the terrible storms,
And sometimes pick up a hammer to nail the wriggling seasoned doors on my facia,
Nothing much to hide,
Not much to show,
A plaid, straight old rhythm,
Somewhat like the Beethoven’s Für Elise,
Regular, easy….

Mind

I draw myself closer,
Closer to the serenity of the ocean,
That moves harmonically over mountains in its belly,
The salt that seeps through my skin,
Open wounds and scrunched memories,
I draw myself closer,
Closer to what the heart says,
For the mind isn’t my friend anymore,
It concocts imaginary devils,
That pierce me with their claws and hooves and horns,
I draw myself closer,
Closer to the idea of loving myself a little more,
For what I have is real,
Or is reality a drama of the mind…?

Happiness

I smile through the days and nights,
When the Sun rises slowly through the dark,
And Winds bellow loudly amongst the trees,
The fruits fall over the heads of passengers,
The water that touches feet of the unknown,

I smile through seasons and rains,
The summer makes me dance and shine,
The songs the little caprices play,
Over mountains laden with snow,
And the skies that paint with clouds,

I smile through mysteries and the uncontrollable,
For man rarely has control over them,
The twinkling of stars,
Life on a distant Moon,
Somewhere its day and the other nights,

I smile for smile is what I have,
The little creeks on my cheeks,
The wrinkles of the ages when the Sun wasn’t up,
And I slept for days weren’t kind,
The nights smelt of disappointment,
And I was never hungry,
For I know now what it means to be happy,
A bag full of sunshine and a grain of night,
A drop in the ocean and a flight amongst the planets,
It is everything and nothing at all,
A perfect oxymoron,
Isn’t happiness just a state of mind……………..

Breathe

I sink over the oceans,
My legs tied and my hands cuffed,
I breathe for my senses still work,
My mind numb from the coldness of the ocean,
Heart slowly withering down,
My life flashes before my eyes,
For they want to comfort me,
The harshness of the salt,
And the deadening silence of the night,
Pull me down,
Down under the bleak sunlight,
I gasp for air,
For to breathe I still remember……

Sleep

Bereft from the identity accorded to myself,
I slowly dissolve in the middle of the night,
As waves of malign sincerity infest me,
I keep my eyes shut,
And clench my wrists over the sheets drenched with my sweat,
Rarely and remotely my body derives a mind of its own,
For it behaves in manners strange to me,
I see clouds in my room,
And valleys over my head,
I slowly dissolve into an oblivion,
As something vicious pulls me down,
That doesn’t come to me in the day,
But as the day sets and moon knocks on my door,
It becomes a part of me,
Something necessary, like the saint who needs his daily whiskey,
I close my eyes and shut them with my bare hands,
Maybe sleep will make it better…………….?

Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

Balloon…

I see dreams wrapped in satin wraps,
Those speak of places filled with gold,
The roads where are always straight,
And speak of plenty and plenty more,
Once a while I too see,
Little packets wrapped shabbily,
Sometimes an old newspaper,
Or a filthy old bag,
They speak of insecurities and helplessness,
That birth fighters among those that have cracked heels,
Might be them that still maintain the balance,
For dreams aren’t saved for those wooden floors,
A balloon might pop once a while……

Ballad…..

I bleed of the color pink,
The rose withered and mixed with dirt,
Of sometimes that brew a sharp cacophony,
That meddles with my mind,
My body already numb,
My eyes often plays games,
My fingertips as they lose their prints,
Sensations of crisp mahogany,
The freshly cut lavender,
That blooms over the crescent of the moon,
I sometimes hear your name,
And see a mirage over the oasis you left for me,
Water made of gold,
I am always thirsty,
As I bleed of the color pink,
My clothes drenched with my nerves,
I slowly bury myself,
With sand over my nostrils,
And ask my eyes to take some rest,
I dream of you,
And your dancing ballad……

Cold Brew

My words brew a cold stillness,
In the mornings when I am sore,
As insomnia scares away my sleep,
And insecurities cripple my legs,
I drip onto parchments made of skin,
My blood, my sweat and the ink in the color of my eyes,
I find you in my kingdoms of prosperity,
As reality burns me down…….

Peace

The wind that carries in it,
The cold of the distant glacier,
That melts everytime it hears your name,
A ballad of sweet symphony,
And the Oh so petite heart of mine,
Why do you beat so more,
The wind that carries in it,
Your perfume made of gold,
It breaks the chains ancient,
Rusted and crippled with dust,
The wind brings me peace,
Just like that kiss of yours……