Song of the night….

Last night as I was sleeping,
She crossed my mind,
The cold sea breeze that unfurled her hair,
Slowly gyrating along the rotation of the earth,
Her eyes watched the distance sun set in the horizon,
Murmuring in her ears the stories lost to the ocean,
She laughed as the water touched her toes,
Leaving the cold sand behind her ankles,
And cried as a shrill numbed her ears,
I have seen it all,
I like to tell myself,
The days when I wake up,
Her presence a somber song of the night…….

Stones

I see you walking by the stars,
Holding your breath for the Sun to see,
For one life they say is enough for mortals like us,
Blood and bones walk the scorching earth,
Bleeding to find a space among the legendary,
Sometimes despair, the other hopes for light,
I see your face in these people sometimes,
Lost, waiting to be found,
Searching for their home,
That would eventually bring them peace,
Peace that would cure their internal storms,
And you could sleep easily,
For hours that you may desire,
No thought of what to do next,
What to become,
What further to sacrifice,
Just sleep with eyes closed,
Even on a floor made of stones……

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…..

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….

Ishq

The almighty rarely crosses my mind,
For I believe in empathy that balances the earth,
My being is the carrier of dreams dissolved,
In enigmas of the world,
Love me till the day My mind conspires,
And makes me feel,
The Sun has come up due to some divine will,
Leave a little love for me to spend,
The rest of my days in peace,
I grovel and break into pieces,
Let me not bury this deep…..

Breath

I will carry you to gardens of blue rose you like,
And bring you the sweet serenades,
For part of my being are you,
And your whole life mine,
My hands lose the sands that have our memories etched,
In glasses of fragrant silica,
Helplessness is what consumes me,
While I try to hold your breath…..

Symphonies of a curious mind

With excitement that knows no bounds, I present to you my first book.
The beautiful cover has been designed by my younger brother @kumar.shrey95 who has adorned this hard work of mine with his art.
This book is the result of endless sleepless nights and my thoughts that have come to me over the years.
Symphonies of a Curious Mind will be my first book and I need all of your support and blessings for the same.
Coming this 2020.
Thank you.

Dreams real….

I had a dream,
While I slept,
And walked through the earth,
It showed me places of happiness,
The ones that beam of glory,
Brought me gifts of the sound,
The space and the sky,
The dream was surreal sometimes,
The other set down with the rising Sun,
But the dream stayed with me,
When the temporary shifted to dust,
And the few sediments remained,
That stayed with me and stay still,
As I nurtured myself and carried myself through the fog,
One can only imagine the peace such a dream could bring,
When the letters gain the spirit,
And adorn vessels tangible,
You see the sunlight,
And it doesn’t burn you down….

Sunflower

I dream of palaces big,
Those that have carpets exquisite,
And behold in them secrets of ages,
Ugly and sweet,
I sometimes dream of lovers,
That carry me to orchards of apples,
The mesmerising scent of the fresh apple juice,
Sweet and sour,
This wretched heart of mine sometimes weep,
When a song close to it comes next in my playlist,
Blasting through my ears onto my mind,
Triggering the emotions kept well intact in it,
But I have a tendency to overcome that emotion,
Maybe the next song takes me to a place serene,
I lay down my guard and let it work through,
The ravines that had dried eons ago,
And I sow seeds of love in places,
Where fire had turned the petals to ash,
The sky turned amber and the wind terrifying,
Music brings me relief,
The rain does to the scorching land,
I cry, I laugh and sometimes dance to the tunes of jazz,
They fuel my soul,
The sun to the sunflower……..

Snowman….

The snow fell down the sky onto her lap,
And to her heart deep,
Secrets buried in the summer had started to breathe,
As winter gave her the relief absconding since many nights,
She opened her eyes to watch the snowflake rest on her shoulders,
The trees shielding her from the hail,
A Snowman she had started to make,
For her secrets burned her chest in light amorphous,
And lay havoc to her intestines,
The Snowman emerged from the ashes of her past,
Eyes of future, Hands in present,
He slowly grew a soul,
Maybe her offspring, 
An affair untold,
He poured rainbows over her secrets,
Let mist work its way through,
The secrets now out in the open,
She didn’t care,
Freedom touched her feet,
And glory sang ballads,
The winter was kind to her,
She hid behind the clothes unfit,
And the warmth of the fireplace cold,
The Snowman was her,
And entirely hers,
Sleep eventually came back to her,
The Snowflake had reached her lungs…………..

Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

Chains

The chains creep into my bed at night,
They slowly take over my feet first,
Making it hard to move,
Status quo is what they demand,
But I never sought out to them,
The letters I wrote in times of desperation,
Did not even,
I try to break them everytime the sun brushes against my window,
Rusted, toxic, clinging to my skin,
Generations before me,
Generations after,
Some see these chains as my birth mark,
The one I have to live with,
Forever and after,
My life a privilege,
They say,
I hammer these chains,
Try to jump,
Bite them with all my might,
Some teeth fell out,
My hands bleeding,
But they never break,
For they are made of what men said,
And wrote for men to follow,
The truthful, the pristine,
Or a devious plan…..

Tumultuous Belly…..

She walked through her father’s garden,
Where lilies told stories of love,
And honey bees nested on the windows,
Often alone she would mix with the trees,
The trees carried her secrets in their rings,
And spoke of seasons fair and dark,
When the wooden bridge broke,
And the river flooded the streets,
The trees would often sing to her,
Their branches dancing to her rhythms,
Or she liked to believed so,
For she saw the skies with her blue eyes,
Puddled with dreams of the sea,
And the desire for a shore,
She would often gaze into the infinity,
Sometimes a messenger would come,
Carrying the news of her homelands,
Where she was born,
Where she intended to die,
The other she would spend the day,
Plucking off weeds in her hair,
And tiding them for something,
Only she knew,
Maybe someone that would bring her peace,
The tumultuous belly of her being…..