LET’S REJOICE THE SONG OF RAIN…..

The first shower!!!
And as the rain loosens itself,
I felled in love with the life again.

I listen in to the song nature hums.
It rings a bell for all of us.
It’s time to tune in to the song we all forgot,
That chord we forgot to strike,
The rhyme which mind failed to retain.

While in the life’s chorus,
We all were busy,
Chanting the mantra of success,
Learning the song of delight.

The first splash and the abundance squeezes itself,
Sending out a squirt of wetness,
Moistening all hearts which remained dried.
While in the ocean of life,
We were seeking a single wave of tenderness, a single tide.

Doesn’t mind still crave of an urge unfulfilled?
That petite desire which hides itself.
To be Happy from inside.

Ending the search to be blissful,
Probing grounds to hang about.
Gathering causes to be occupied.

Today while standing on the life’s cliff,
Gazing at the rain.
I still find within a mind
That refuses to grow.
Declines to remain confined.
A heart within, that desires to cheer,
yearns to grow in easy delight.
A spirit within, keen to let the rains pour in,
Drench my body and soak my soul.
Till all the shyness gets washed out,
which cloaks the sanity.
Till the adulthood resigns.

I gain a heart of an infant,
which finds no reason,
Futile to be glad,
No cause vain to simply smile.

The Day ends…

A day mundanely flips away, bringing it to the night,
Which seems to darken in the very similar way.
Mind-numbing toil, the newness slackens off,
Finding staleness, tugging it away.

The twilight pulls it out of the warmth
The cold darkness descends,
And with skilled silent strokes,
Sketches a mix of cobwebs and shadows,
Hanging all over the place,
A bizarre picture of the discarded day.

Even the most-distant memories,
The night gruesomely brings.
Those hollow deserted aisles,
Groves of grotesque twisted trees,
Far aloft, their arms wave away.

I, till now, so strangely, at ease,
With a seizure, step into the darkness.
The nightmare will soon return,
The day culminating into emptiness,
Wasting all its wishes, all its hopes,
Squandering it away.

But today the night is different.
In these moments of clamour and dread,
I find a sudden silence,
I find a sudden solace.

I suddenly realize I am not alone.
I find many other hearts passing out.
Many others stumble their heads against the wall.
When they reach the end,
When they close their day.

Cold Truths

I never wanted heights of closeness,

Never thought of being your part.

I yearned to take a plunge

And delve into the depths of your heart.

Some “Cold Truths” I found.

But don’t fret, I never let out any.

I left you pristine.

But they gave everything, an icy chill.

They lent everything, a frosty sheen.

But when this ice melts with traces of desire.

And my feelings erode away.

So close still, I find you.

My heart still tingles with your feelings.

My mind still trembles with you.

THE ART OF WANDERING !

A life spent prudently and played with all the rules learnt from everyone, even from swindlers, crooks and fools, no offense meant to anyone, after all everyone has his own lesson of strength to lend and resilience to share.

In midst of all this, doesn’t mind crave sometimes to idle away time on useless things or just loiter around aimlessly?

Does “loitering “sound a bit offensive so let me call aimless wandering? It is no less than an art.

That’s what I did a few days back. It was a beautiful Sunday evening. It was a bright evening, I felt elated. Face flushed with a sense of carefree irresponsibility, I walked with a spring in my step. I was all in mood to enjoy my leisure. Should I turn left or right? I was free to choose.

The way I walked I felt as if many gave me an amused look and I kept walking, panning my gaze all over, and pausing once in a while to feast my eyes on any attractive object that arrests my attention.

A beautiful model on a large billboard in front of me seemed to gaze at me, “Where are you going?” she pursued. Nowhere, I said. She seemed to stare at me for a moment and soon seemed to be wearing a look of perplexed dejection as I walked off.

On Sunday evening, every place looks simply swarming with people that no one gives attention to anyone.

And in midst of all this crowd, I simply seem to blend well, when I realize that in spite of being still counted as disadvantaged as compared to the people who are rich, famous or have a striking personality, I can still enjoy the marvelous benefits of insignificance and the being a part of anonymity.

If it hadn’t been would I have been able to enjoy myself with such carefree abandon and this kindda carefree irresponsibility.

The road side stalls and all the eateries crowded with noisy families bashing away regardless greedily demolishing the heaps of food before them seemed to satisfy my own need of satiation.

In that noise, I could sense a tranquil ambiance, so comforting and flattering emerging in my heart that I could really surf through my hearts content, and simply lost myself into that wonderful state of timelessness I experienced that time and I realized it happened because I was totally engrossed into doing something I loved.

Shall I go further wandering through the streets where every person seems to give some news, everything has a novelty and every poster has its advice to lend. Or shall I simply head home???

In that silent walk, all of us…the houses, the stones, posters and the sky held a long friendly conversation on the possibilities which were endless!

The freedom to enjoy life and win its ultimate reward, a happiness you gain when you really cease doing the things you have to do. You stop valuing time and you achieve its highest value. What reward could be greater than a life enjoyed as it is lived?

So do discover the art of wandering and you can trade in the art of living from the business of living.

THE SERPENT OF DESIRE !

From the summit of my brain
A desire broke, eager to flow like
a lake which melts from a glacier.
And instead inside,
a shower of fire erupts.

I found myself quivering wildly,
till the pulse stops shaking and the body glides away.
A rattle forms within!!!

My head buried in the pillow of need,
A cry escapes into a hiss.
A guilt struggles for breath
A noise smoothens into gasp of bliss.

And I want to wake you
You are in the bed two feet away.

A serpent pulses through me,
caught swirling lazily,
Rattling devilishly and playfully
Asking you to come and dance with it.

Looking into the mirror with my reflection
Same eyelids, same hair, same glance,
I found there a serpent eating her own tail!!!

And soon you and me,
caught into violent dance,
A passion of pain,
Injects venom into those moments
which dies its own slow death.

This night differs
As it negotiates our old pact and speaks of a new deal.

Now during the nights
When the breeze creeps in through the window,
Our backs arch and the bodies churn,
The fingers claw and we bite into the flesh!!!

Out of a tie still hushed,
Yet wider and louder now.
A relation has evolved,
which makes sharper hissing sounds.

A pattern has been altered,
Ugly stitches dropped,
And fresh, challenging threads picked up!!!

A bond is relieved of all the words,
As it is full of its own meaning!!!

LOSS OF A MAGIC……….

It’s been a long time since I thought of loosening hold on my awareness…

I remained more or less in a strange kind of wakefulness, a watchfulness which grew so resolute, so stubborn and unyielding, I gradually realised it ended up growing into an insatiable greed within me, to gather things in my mind…

I started storing events within me. The experiences were gathered in my mind, so raw, so inflamed all the time.

Amidst that struggle to maintain a constant connection with the subject, emotions and expression, I suddenly realised a different state of mind. Wasn’t I trying to internalise all which is external. Am I living in two worlds???

Seeing an ugly old woman walking in front of me with a limp, made me internally weak and I felt innocent and joyful inside, if my eyes settled on a baby. At that moment, I felt I was a baby, but at the same time, I was unable to loosen like him and managed to carry out a meaningful conversation.

While under your own steam completely unaware of the surroundings and living in a world of an own, imagining that the life is stable now and my moods are manageable, my body is fit and my sleep is sound and my friendships are not co-dependent.

A mind which dwells carefully in the present and still sneaks into those memories distant and a mind tangled in the jungles of desires, still wants to fall prey to certain moments, who like those remorseless beasts, manage to inhabit some dark spaces of the mind.

At such instances, mind realises loss of a magic, magic like once happened with you. And that magic almost out-paces you at every turn and you gradually find a desire deeper and deeper inside you ends up into a growing gloom.

Magic like that while walking on a lonely road, one day, a flower which just fallen from the tree, stepped on your feet, and you stopped to pick it up, and hold it in your fingers and you suddenly found more of them strewn all over the ground.

You would find them out also when you climb up the hills at twilight, which flits in and out of those small caves in the cliffs. Those flowers lead you to the forests where you would find more of them, hiding behind trees, and if you lost them or all they lost you, you would always find them again.

And it didn’t matter, if you followed them all day, there was nothing to fear, the edge of the world was miles away.

The Foggy Days!

A chilly morning, so cold and windy that I felt for a moment it is scarcely a day to take a walk. Everything seems to be withdrawn as far as possible, withdrawn or indrawn….

There is fog is everywhere, shadowy and spreading swiftly everywhere and in my mind I imagine some untamed spirits of dead, taking funny shapes, roaming around in that dusky wrap.

In that wrap, I could hear many footsteps, all of us kept disappearing like shadows and only traces of steps of those who visited the park could be seen, the wet ground pounded by their feet.

As a woman, with a deliberate feeling of carrying a cover around, I found myself whispering in imagination to the trees around me. The whispers felt so intimate to the inmost ear of the spirits surrounding me, that I could feel they are now aroused enough to wrap me in a gentle affirmation of being a part of their peaceful and loving existence. I could feel some unrestrained warmth rising from the smoke surrounding me.

The rackety, icy wind numbed my face. The sky looks darker than usual. I actually looked at the sky which seemed to be carrying the colour of a jade, which is not as beautiful, as I thought it is.

In that upright, steely mist, I followed a track of steps, made by rubber boots along the wet soil which came on lengths and lengths, endless and finally, when they did end, I suddenly realised that during all this time, I had been following my own steps.

Following a kite string?–But no kite. And on the end of that wet string, I saw myself rising up the tides of those waves of mist, looking like a ghost, soaking wet.

Many things about this day are dubious.

I rushed back home to retire there and do nothing, read boring books and write down some useless notes, talk to myself about these foggy days, and while sipping on hot coffee, simply watch through the window, the droplets slipping, heavy with light.

And today when the wind is so cold, of course all the houses boarded up, I like others, wait for the sun to come out, even for a minute. During that minute, it would be lovely to see people, like those multi-coloured, drab and damp, scattered stones set in the sand would spread out their aching bodies, would throw shadows, individual shadows, and after this brief teasing by sun, a dark coldness would pull them in, again. .