Hercules

I watch you over the rills,
The saline mist brewed on the far side,
Of the Moon and the Saturn,
Those crave for attention,
Just beyond the visible,
For centuries eyes have adored the Moon’s craters,
And the rings that dribble on Saturn’s waist,
They want to be loved for what’s beneath,
Their core still warm,
The years of cold shrill,
And the space dust that settled on them,
Maybe a day would come,
The symphony of one curious mind,
And the organs that believe in magic,
Will birth the legendary Hercules,
His might of the Gods,
And the heart of clouds,
Shall carry their almost tired bodies,
Over his shoulder,
Or maybe in his arms,
One day shall come,
I will see you up close and personal,
Hold your hands and tell you it’s alright,
No longer shall I stay in shadows,
For I’ll be the Hercules and you be the Moon…..

Numbness…..

For some days there was this deep sadness that has been grappling me, taking over my entire body as I tried to battle it. The days become longer even after the Sun settles and the noises around me dull down to almost inaudible levels. This sadness manifests itself in many ways, sometimes my poetry and sometimes other things such as my daily routine. 2020 had been a great year for me. I joined a job I’ve been waiting for three years now, got my first book published and many more things. However, the loss of my beloved Joy was something that I had thought I had recovered from.

It’s difficult sometimes being the strong one, keeping up a strong face for others so that they don’t break down. It’s a responsibility people rarely discuss. I remember my school days. Each day I attended my school, I was appalled. Didn’t want to go a single day. Didn’t have many friends and talking with others was such a big hurdle for me back then. (It still is but I can now reply in much better fashion than I did before. ) I would come back from school, watch cartoons with my brother for sometime and would then go back to studies. I wasn’t a person who would enjoy sports nor any outdoor activity as most sports required a social interaction, something I have feared for the good part of my life. Growing up is such an organic process that you wouldn’t even notice that you have grown out of your own shell. The things that could rile you up sometimes, now even don’t cross your minds, the happiness that would come so easily, eludes you when you work hardest for it. Earning more and more, big house, big car, pumping iron, botox, alcohol, women, drugs.  They bring you bouts of happiness, or just an illusion that your soul doesn’t crave for anything, for the moment. It is satisfied, its thirst quenched, it can finally close its eyes while it lays on the bed. But what happens when these fade off. The silences chase you to the far side of the moon and you grasp for air. For your air was that illusion, that moment that brought you happiness. After school, as the school bus dropped us at our house, me and my brother would run back to the house and the smell of freshly cooked food would bring wide smiles to our faces. I am still like this. Whenever an opportunity opens up at the office, I run back straight to the house. My house is my sanctorum, the place where I can be me and not someone I cannot like. Sometimes we would meet our father for lunch and we displayed the best of our behaviour. It was back then we thought that our father should be one whom we feared. He cannot be a friend. Times were different back then. He was trying his hardest to put food on our table and roof above our head. He wouldn’t talk much back then. But now when he has passed that phase of life, he has become our friend. Maybe he always was. Although, he has time now, but we two brothers have become someone else. 

Change is the only thing that’s permanent. I had heard that many times and wasn’t much an advocate of the fact, as being the person I am, I am a big fan of inertia. The rock should stay where it has stayed for long. Changes bring me anxiety, maybe anxiety is a strong word. Maybe my anxiety might not be as the way your anxiety behaves with you. But mine too takes me down a waterfall, sometimes even an endless tunnel that doesn’t seem to have any light at the end. My father keeps on asking us to sit with him and talk with him. Sometimes I want to, every fibre in me wants to, but then a thought floods my head and I just walk away from him. I want to provide a bigger house, a bigger car for him. The smell of food doesn’t fill my stomach any more.

Men have always been the provider, its embedded in their genes, just like motherhood is embedded in girls. We work hard, most of the times so hard that night becomes day and day becomes night. Its a strange paradox. The battle starts right from the day we fight millions of prospective candidates and become a living being in our mother’s womb. Nine months she carries us, taking care of the house she has been living,  a house that might sometimes be so strange to what she might have left back. We keep on fighting and not all the times for materialistic gains. The saint struggles to find God, the fool struggles to find gold, the hungry strives for grains, the clouds crave for land, the land wants to touch the sky. I’ve always heard people saying that you find Moksha when you are done with your responsibilities and that your work here is done. If Moksha was something so real and so tangible, wouldn’t we find it performing our responsibilities? I know all of this might sound too dramatic, even too dismal for people. Aren’t we failing as human race if empathy sounded of something weak, gullible. Shouldn’t we be “One for All, All for One.”? While going through some interviews I did for my book, I was asked what was really in my book. I thought for a while and could of all the poems think of one poem that I wrote :


The winds had thundered that day, 
As the earth trembled, 
And the oceans laid their chest bare open, 
When everyone took refuge in their homes, 
He took out his ship, 
Opened the mast up and high, 
Steered the little speck in the mighty sea, 
Towards the highest wave, 
That stood infront of him, 
As the ship climbed the wave, 
It reached the top, Rode the wave hard, 
It broke, it broke, it broke, 
The will of the sea, it broke,
The wave caressed the ship down, 
Onto its chest, 
The ship had tasted blood, 
The boy had become a sailor…. 


This poem was something I wrote during my darkest times to remind myself that there would always be something good at the end of tunnel, that there’s always a silver lining to a cloud, that after the storm, Sun shall shine bright again. It was this poem that I have turned to again and again when I thought myself to be not thinking straight, of thinking to embrace the darkness. I keep a happy face because this mind of ours is a very innocent being. You can fool it very easily. Just pretend that you are happy and it will listen to you. Think that you are sad all the time and it will think as such. This might be true for most of us. However, things tend to become way more complex for the people who cannot communicate their emotions to others in a way they want to. A link that they have craved for their entire lives and maybe will crave for the rest of their lives. It’s this feeling of paralysis, the virus that affects me most of the times. Words have always been my friend, they know my deepest secrets and they listen so carefully, almost like a communication that my mind has craved for eternities. It almost feels as one. I am not my usual self and I think that’s organic too. Maybe the inertia I desire is fictional. Maybe sadness wants to stay with me for sometime. 


I close my eyes, 
To see the stars,
Embedded in the garb of night,
They sing me lullabies to sleep,
The cold showers of twinkling light,
That calm my wounds,
And repair the skin around them,
For wounds don’t heal,
They never do,But the stars are kind,
They show me the path around the wounds,
I see the planets around them,
The many galaxies I could easily live,
The reality I want them to be……….

Petite…

Days like these,
When the winds fumble around the trees,
And brings back the messages lost to the seas,
I see you smiling at me,
From distances beyond the curvature of earth,
I kiss the air these days,
Little, warm, moist pieces of my pulsating heart,
And send them wrapped towards you,
The rays carry them to the dark of moon,
The penumbra under your skin,
I kiss the wind,
I kiss your lips,
The petite universe of my being…..

In Print….

This wasn’t possible if there weren’t the people who supported me through the thick and thin of life. This book is more of them than mine.

Symphonies of a Curious Mind is my first collection of poems that I have tried to nurture with all my patience and all the writing I have taught myself over the years. It is a piece of my heart and my mind..

A big Thank you to all of you…😇

Symphonies of a Curious Mind Amazon link

Bed…

It slowly takes over me,
The melodious cacophony of the night,
Dorned with scents velvety,
It pierces my heart,
Into many pieces,
The few I bleed everyday when I wake up,
Onto the side of the bed,
You are not here,
I plunge myself into oblivion,
The brothels sometimes hear my stories,
For my mind knows those bodies aren’t you,
This wretched vessel still needs a beating heart,
A touch not even remotely close to as yours,
My eyes deceive me often,
And I see myself falling into abyss,
Every time a figure resembling you,
Touches me, comes even close,
For a sweet serenade the night sings,
I hold onto strangers,
They kill me softly,
And I close my eyes,
As breath becomes my only enemy,
The other side of my bed,
The only side of my bed……..

Woman enjoying foggy mountain morning from the hotel of Sa Pa, Vietnam

My Book..

With great pleasure I announce the launch of my first book on Amazon. It is now available for purchase.

Would really mean a lot to me if you could grab a copy, give out a word and be kind enough to leave a review or even a feedback for me to improve and give me an opportunity to omit any errors in the future.

Link For The Book- Symphonies of a Curious Mind

For the readers outside India please drop me an email at Kumar.harshcg@gmail.com and I will get back to you with an update very soon.

Thank you all for showing your support.

Your guidance and support is always necessary.

Thank you so much.

😇

Lonely Nights

I fear lonely nights,
The grey moon that sometimes mocks me,
He has his Earth,
The land to his eclipses,
The haunting wind that disturbs the peace of sleeping villages,
Crawls under my skin,
It seems as if it is an object of habit,
The rigid discipline it pertains itself to,
Up and down below my chest,
It dances even on nights when the moon hides away,
And on days perturbed by jetstreams cold,
I walk through graveyard of my kind self,
The one trampled upon by anyone who made an appearance,
My pigmented, rustic slate,
Once pristine, welcoming to all,
I fear lonely lights,
And the days that come after it,
For night passes with a gleaming monotony,
An affair of eclectic proportions,
And births the day my heart is no stranger to,
The screeching, growl I am used to,
A humming in my ears,
An ecstasy of similar kind,
The one weightlessness might bring,
You know you won’t fall,
But want to,
I fear lonely nights,
The only constant…..

Cynthia

I miss you on the days,
The frost slowly eats away,
Little warmth the sun has,
And covers it with a hazy afternoon,
Difficult for me to breathe,
My eyes blink rapidly,
For dust settles in my eyelashes,
Heavy they become,
Suddenly a swift jitter of my hand,
Comes near my eyes,
And I close them,
For they fear these hands,
What they could do,
And what they did,
A flashback hits at the back of my head,
My consciousness eludes me,
I fall from the cliffs onto the ocean,
The bed of roses,
My sweet Cynthia,
I hold your hands,
Firm still light,
Dreams, reality, obvious, sensical,
Perceptive or the transcendental,
The machinery of my inner thoughts lose their lubricant,
As friction erodes my peace,
Oh so anxious heart,
I lay down, chest down,
Believing the earth might bring it calm,
I close my eyes,
And lay down flat,
Palms towards the skies,
Clenching for air,
I miss you on days like this,
A little more than everyday…..

This is my 500th post on this blog. Thank you so much to you, the reader for the support. 😇

Lipstick Red….

I standby her mirror,
As she takes off her mask,
The one spectacular, perfect for the world,
She shuns off her clothes and throws them away,
Like a child, sweet sixteen,
Her hair tangles and they merge with one another,
Luscious long hair contracts in her bun,
And she sings songs without a symphony,
Crackling her voice at all the high notes,
Crying where the beats drop,
She takes off her heels and becomes someone else,
Someone I find solace with,
The loose, ill fitting t-shirts of mine,
Hug her like the cold wind of autumn,
I stand there in that very position,
Each day as she runs her course,
Committed to her memory,
And to mine,
Naked, uncensored and sacred,
She turns my world,
Upside and down and sideways and cross,
Each day as I standby her,
With her at the mirror,
Lined with her mascara and the lipstick red……

Nose Ring…

She slowly pulled out her nose ring,
That her mother had placed,
The day she was destined to marry,
This will be your pride,
The weight of your hopes and ambitions,
She would often say to her as she donned her in clothes,
Now too shiny for her age,
Hold your head high,
As you fight through the thick forest,
Standing here since ages,
And will stand for ages to come,
She slowly pulled out her dreams,
And laid them flat on the floor,
For the world to see,
For the world to trample them,
Or give them wings,
She closed her eyes,
And took a deep breath,
As her nose dived,
The ring witness to it all,
Shattered, it fell down on the floor,
The night had just begun…..

Ursa….

I see you among stars sometimes,
As they knock on my window at night,
A sweet memory that strangulates me,
Your face builds up in my head,
And I feel as if you were here,
When the warmth of your skin,
And the slow breaths you took,
Everytime I touched your head,
How can one forget,
The movements and the fragrance of your touch,
I keep some stars spun in my knitting yarn,
For I like to keep them with me,
They warm me in the coldest of nights,
And bring a smile to my wretched face,
As I see the Ursa in the constellation,
I see your happy face…..

Mulberry…

Photo by Lola Russian on Pexels.com

Dressed in clothes white I walk among the mortals,
For they see what I want them to,
My identities covered in veils many,
Those took years to cocoon me into,
But a clear calm strucks me every time,
I come close to you and see a sanctum sanctity,
Where I walk naked,
Where I become you,
Or at least think as if,
I don’t need clothes anymore,
For you cover me with the odes of Mulberry,
Translucent and pink……

Grey

I cares the morning with my bare chest,
And lay it open for the birds to rest,
Their wings frozen from the jetstreams cold,
Stomachs growling for food,
For their mouths have remained dry,
Water became frost and fell as hail,

I dance in the sunlight and follow the dust,
The grains of sand that settle on my night stand,
Every morning though I shrug them off,
Some crystals enter my mouth,
My dreams sometimes keep it wide open,

I see the rainbows when it doesn’t rain,
For the water in my eyes clobber my vision,
And leak through crevices set sometimes in cement,
My faith was strong,
My love knew no bound,

The mystery this world is amazes me most of the times,
Sometimes possesses me with fears unknown,
Ugly, deranged and full of scars,
The truth is inevitable I tell myself,
For choice I rarely have,

I sing sometimes to the ghosts of my past,
The lovers those betrayed,
And the lovers that I did wrong,
They taught me many things,
Letting go off the sail once a while,
Sometimes guiding it through the atolls,

But I sometimes close my eyes,
And think of days when I would cry,
Hugging the pillow close to my mouth,
Barely breathing,
For a man must sometimes poke their subconscious,
It carries secrets deep within,
Only to see how far they have come,
The chipped skin on their feet,
The hair that had turned grey…..

More of you…

Take my hand,
And give me your all,
Close your eyes,
And see through mine,
The colors of the sky,
The warmth of the Sun,
The buzzing of the bees,
Working hard to gather nectar sweet,
For them, the others and us,
A little of the dirt,
That had escaped my hands,
Sands on the beach,
The shells that are no more,
Take my hand,
And take it all,
Whatever I have left,
The little of my being,
And the more of you,
The little of me,
And the more of you…..

Seasons…

I know it can be difficult,
The Mornings don’t please you much,
The nights are darker than before,
It takes too much effort to move,
And your hands tremble on lifting your bags,
The winds whoosh past you,
The trees do not move,
You close your eyes and see those,
The ones lost to time and circumstances strange,
Hold on to the memories sweet,
The nectar of years that amalgamate with your skin,
And create a scent that will last for eternities,
As you remember them,
Their voice and the way they moved,
It will be easy someday,
I have heard time heals most of the scars,
Cry for long as long as it clears your heart,
Crystal, glass and transparent as before,
And you let someone again inside your heart,
For love will find you and heal you,
It will be all worth someday,
It will be easy someday,
I promise as I hold your hands,
And we walk through the gardens wilted due to cold,
The Season shall change soon….

To Sunsets and Beyond…

The seed that germinates in the soil so warm,
The ancient carriers of messages in dust,
Hugs it tight and brings it dreams,
Of fields green and the skies golden,
The seed slowly pops out the ground,
A baby before and a tree now,
And accumulates within the enigmas of the world,
The beating heart and the formless soul,
That travels the annals of time,
And the waves blue,
It survives and brings shade to the little on the ground,
A thousand years and countless memories later,
The seed it completes its life here,
For one last time it sees the Sun going down the Horizon,
The wind that will hit it not again,
The birds that will nest on branches other,
It closes its eyes and tries to sleep,
As slowly it dissolves into the ground,
The dust, the Earth, The Universe its very own……

With tears in our eyes and trembling hands, we bid goodbye to Joy on this 16th. It was painful to see him go and it won’t be easy. Seeing him everyday was a habit and now that we cannot see him anymore, pains us beyond repair. Some would think how can an animal who cannot talk or express their emotions can become someone so special, maybe I cannot explain that to you. It is a privilege to have witnessed a life grow in-front you and become something so special. Dogs(for me) will always be more than many people roaming this earth because they love you without asking for anything. They don’t need any branded clothes or any clothes for that matter. They will eat the simplest of foods and still come to you wagging their tails. It’s something that words can never do justice to. Pets complete our lives in ways that many couldn’t. 

We tried our best to help Joy recover from whatever ailed him but to no avail. It was like his life was serious to us only. But none of that matters now as he finally has found peace and we hope that he rests in peace. 

He was born of dust and now maybe the soil will bring him dreams of fields that have no fences or borders or people that want to chase him away. He can live his dreams that we saw him dream as he ran in his sleep and moved his legs. 

I thank you all who had shown empathy towards Joy and I thought it was deserving of you to know what happened with him. 

Joy shall always remain the perfect family member. 

दो पंख

मुझ में कुछ तेरा भी था,
तुझमें मैं सारा सा,
ना जाने कहाँ से आया था तू,
ना जाने कहाँ गया तू,
अब उम्र जो रह गयी है मेरी,
बस सोचूँगा हर रोज़ ये,
अगली मुलाक़ात शायद होगी जब,
फ़िर से खिल उठेंगे हम दोनो,
सूरज नहीं ढलेगा कभी,
और उड़ने को होंगे हमारे दो पंख…..

An Ode to Friendship

This post is an emotional one and a very private one indeed. I had to write this as the emotions inside me are just too overwhelming to be told to anyone. For those kind enough to read through this, I thank you from the bottom of my heart and believe that you shall respect this very intimate feeling. 


It was the year 2011 and I had just started to go to a college. There was lot of excitement and fear about the college life. The college was completely a different thing for someone like me who had been a studious student to the school. As I tried to blend in with the new environment, a day my mother called me and said to me that she found a snake in the kitchen. We all were worried and as the college got over, I got back to the house and all four of us began to talk. I had always wanted a dog and I thought that this might be the only opportunity that I would get, so I proposed getting a Labrador as I heard stories about their sniffing powers. My parents immediately dejected this idea and shunned me away. But I was persistent. Days and days after requesting them, they finally agreed on getting a Labrador Puppy.  We did some research on the internet and found a number that dealt with them. Everything was decided and the person who just had a Labrador Puppy decided to give one to us. I remember it was a Sunday and the person lived at a distance of about 3-4 hours. All of us were excited and we even prepared a little bed for the puppy to come. The person came and he had the puppy in a shoe box. He was so small that he couldn’t open his eyes. We took him and gave him some milk and let him rest on the cold floor. He was so small that when he slept he put his entire face in the  slipper. I tried to comfort him  by putting him in my arms. The next thing came on naming him. We had decided on all kinds of names but my Mother was persistent on one name-Joy. He was named Joy as in a way he had brought joy in our lives. Days passed and he grew so fast. He loved going out on his walks and would pull us like crazy. He had immense strength so much so that once my mother tried to take him for a walk, he pulled and she fell down. Since that day it was either me or my brother who would take him for his walks. We had seen many dogs perform tricks, so one day we decided to teach him some. The first thing was sitting down. We would take some treats and teach him to sit down. He got so perfect in so less time that we were amazed. We didn’t even have to tell him, just showed our finger and we would sit down. We also taught him to shake his hand. He would like a gentleman sit down and always give his right hand to shake. Everyone was same for him. He loved everyone and everyone loved him. He was especially famous with the kids of the locality. Whenever my mother used to sit in the morning to pray he would sit besides her and watch her as she did her prayers. Just like a honest disciple, he watched everything what his teacher did. Joy loved playing with clothes and he would bring us a piece of clothe and ask to hold one end while he pulled on the other and would love chasing people. I remember I would slightly push him with my leg and he would chase me around the entire house until either he was tired or I was tired. Everyday when we came back he would come running to us and lay his entire body weight on us. He has been someone who has listened to some of my deepest secrets and has stood by me for so long that seeing a day without him is almost close to impossible.

For Nine years Joy has eaten by my mother’s hand. Every single day my mother has fed joy like she would feed us, requesting him to eat his food, sometimes even getting angry at him. It broke all ours heart when Joy stopped eating food. Nothing seemed to work and all of us were helpless. Seeing someone so close to you and the way they adore something such as food, not accepting it has shattered me to many pieces. I have cried so much and so more that there was a moment of weakness I had started to believe in something I didn’t hoping that a miracle might happen and he would start eating. I haven’t seen such a weak Joy ever since he came as a little puppy. I could never carry him in my arms as every time I tried to, he would growl at me. But he cannot walk now and every time I have to carry him, every fibre inside me cries but still I keep a straight face for my family because I know if I cannot hold myself together, they would lose it too. I have lost some people that I have loved in all my entirety and I know that I might recover from this loss. Its hard to accept that a creature so loving and so loyal can leave you so soon. They have such small lifetimes. My mother had said this to me while I held Joy in my arms and my brother was driving us to the hospital this Saturday. Diwali this year was so painful. Everyone tried to put up a happy face but deep down they knew that this might be Joy’s last Diwali and the worst part of it is that we cannot even feed him the things he so much loved. I am writing this after trying to feed him something.

I want to write so much more but my throat has run dry and my hands are trembling at the thought of losing Joy. I want to tell you so much more about the wonderful things he did for us and how he saved us from the darkness while he fought his own demons but I cannot. I have considered myself to be an expressive fellow who knows what to say and when to say it but this moment, this situation has made my gut helpless reaching for words. This post was my way of dealing with such a magnanimous loss although I want him to recover and if there is god, he knows we are trying our best. Whatever happens I just want him to go peacefully in his sleep, to the fields where Sun is always up and the winds carry a scent of lavender. I just hope someday I will meet him again……