A devil stares me at night, Standing infront of me, Whenever I dream of darkness, I know it will someday grab me, Take over my mind and body, As I try to stay numb to sensations outside, For they push me closer to it, Everytime my heart bleeds, And I become pieces of chalk, That absorb slowly its footprints, In dark soot and viscous slime, I try to sleep with eyes that close sometimes, It comes closer everyday, Near to my feet, More than ever, I can feel its hands reaching up my bed, Or is sanity slowly diminishing from my head, Past is future, Or is future past……
There once was a fisherman that lived beyond a river that had been long dried up. The once lustrous flow of clear water that bore fishes large enough to feed families now only had stones carved by its water-round, dilapidated, slowly degenerating. The fisherman out of habit visited the river each day in a hope that water will someday start flowing through it again and feed him. He would everyday open his net, spread it neatly over the river bed and wait for the water. At the end of the day, he would again collect his massive net and with a heavy heart head back to his home. He would spend sleepless nights on his bed thinking about the next day and how lavish his breakfast, lunch and dinner would be had the river started flowing. Days passed and turned into months, months to years and years to decades when one day the fisherman didn’t have the strength to move. He became a captive of his situation, unable to even move. He could now only think about the river and all the fishes in the river and how they would be calling his name. The fisherman thinking the same closed his eyes one day to let sleep intoxicate him. He woke up the next day to find he was his younger self with muscles of that a teenager. He quickly grabbed his net and rushed towards the river. The river was flowing with water that gushed so fast even the stones were carried in the flow. The fisherman jumped with joy and hurriedly started to unfurl his net when he heard a sweet voice call his name. Filled with awe he turned around to find a beautiful girl standing, a face he recognized from somewhere. Hello Miss, I think I have seen you somewhere, he remarked as he started to walk towards the girl leaving his net on the ground. How can you forget me, the girl said, I was your fish, the girl had remarked. The fisherman was found dead the day before.
I see stars embedded in my palm, For they shimmer in the night, When the Moon is far, And the wolves howl through the dark, They bring me peace sometimes, Calm down my palpitating heart, Or burn through my skin, Scars that stay forever, Under the epidermis like a brand of destitution, A tattoo of obligation, nothing to be proud of, I try to stay true to my roots, For they bring me cold water, Quench my thirst and bury my lavishness, By the fertile mud of my ancestors land, That grows a tree inside my mind, A tree that extends over centuries, And bears fruits for generations, Sometimes golden and burnt, And yellow and red, For I see stars and how they burn, And I tell my self to shine like the Omega and the Alpha, But wait and rest and sleep and recharge, Whenever they burn through my skin, And visit my roots more than often, The stars of my distant crescendo…..
My voice echoes in darkness, For the plethora of my nuisances play folly, As my head and my mind stop being in sync, To follow the unruly practice of harming itself, I breathe and breathe through crevices made of burnt rubber, And I indulge in sin of desires, It’s reverberation of my methodic insignia, The need of gasping for air, That I see through tinted windows, And make myself believe, There’s a silver lining to every cloud……..
Love seems like a rainbow, Filled with colors of the Sun, It drips over me like it does over the others, Slips down my shoulders when I am not looking, Sometimes falls down my eyes over a memory that was pure, An emotion true, an incident tragic, It reflects the piercing, sharp parleys, Off of my chest and into the open air, For Love brings me life, Reminds me that my heart is not made of stone, And my skin that breathes slow symphonies, Onto this canvas that I create, Piece by piece and that changed colors with each gray of my hair, If Love was perfect, it would be like light, Simple, colorful, white, But Love is not perfect, It is the same as a falling down a waterfall, Only to be caught by a branch thin, That breaks off too soon, Until someone holds on to you, And keeps on choosing you, As you fall together, Infinitely, together, Love is organic, slow, smooth like a fine whiskey, You gotta keep on drinking…….
My day starts as the colossal struggle between my mind and my heart ends, As I struggle, exerting every vein in my body, A pain arises somewhere beneath my skin, Gravitating through my toes and my fingertips and the little wrinkles that rest on my body, For the day is new and the night shall be here soon, I gather them all, my angels and my demons, And I open my eyes, For the day is new and the night shall be here soon……
I sleep with arms wide open, For the air feels thin at nights, When I am all alone on my bed, That knows when I sleep, When I wake up from nightmares that crawl over me, As a realisation dawns upon me, The bed is magnanimous for someone as timid as me, I yearn for warmth that my sheets shall never provide, The sound of rhythmic waves, I turn on my speakers in nights like these, For silence keeps me up, And my bed pulls me down, A crisis of the century, An affair that must end, Before I perish, Or these arms through which blood still flows……
I hold you close, As the cold slowly fades away, Into motionless fallacies, That Me and you commit, Sometimes knowingly, Sometimes unwillingly, We stare into each other’s eyes, The Sun sets and The Moon rises, As seasons change and the earth gravels into sand, I come close to you, You even closer……
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………….
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…..
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.
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…….
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……………..
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…………….?
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……
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……
A flower slowly that hugs the air, Opening up its petal for the outside world, A melody that catches ears adrift, And makes them wonder the soil it stands in, Clenching the little pebbles like the hands of a newborn, Its almost miraculous that nothingness creates something spectacular, Out of things extraordinary, That mingle around the dust settled, A similar kind of love, A man brings for his woman, Sweet, discrete, wrapped in layers of lavender, That slowly unravel and fills the air with fragrances eternal, He holds her hands with the utmost sincerity, Gentle and firm like the tendrils of Fuchsia, How hard a man can love, They are quick to ask, Just like the oysters buried in the sand, They bear pearls spectacular, It kills them to love her, They rejoice as she comes out pristine, For the world to see, Admire and fall in love, He lies on the ground motionless, For his love is complete, For the world to see, A man loves discretely, Just like the air that hugs a flower slowly, Its fragrance that travels around the globe, Like carnations in the sea……..
I wish I could hear you speak, A sweet slow symphony, Music to ears, the orchards that bloom, Fruits incessant over the ledges of rainbow, Brewed eloquently, just like a perfect rhythm, But I carry you in my heart, That sometimes remind me of you, As I caress the winds and lay down my palm, Thinking of you, My old best friend……