The last song of love

If I have to struggle

to remind you that
I am there
then there is no reason
for me
to exist for you.
The Savannah calls me.
I can be there
where they prey
without pretending love,
Where,

I will know
who kills and how far
is my territory.
If I have to wait forever
and go away without love,
then there is no reason
to go and find the
Gul Mohur on fire,
there is no reason to
try to listen to the whispers
of footsteps on the dried
leaves in my driveway.
If I want,

The Savannah is already dry
and I can put fire to it
in my moments of ecstacy.
And footsteps?
They are dreaded here
since such sounds bring death
and that too, not in whispers
but through the air,

with mists of blood.

For a lion,
The confined streets of
Manhattan is not its
Territory.

The buildings are too high.
The vast grassland of the
Savannah is it's home,

He can see over the grass

and know who is coming. 

The future of the past

As the clouds below formed into
a painting,
I reclined my seat and closed
my eyes
for yet another few
hours of trance,
trying to build reality
from my dreams.

Such sojourns for me
always brings up the future
which I haven't yet seen
and with it,
you, of course
whom I lever left in my past.

This is how the future
is always full of
fairy tale finish with you
and the past?

I have never been there.

Your Story

It was deep into the month
of May
in the sweltering heat of Mumbai,
I remember how it took my
mind two hours to travel a
distance of fifteen minutes,
And how, at the end of it
The joy stayed with me for
the rest of my life.
It was deep into the month
of May
in the sweltering heat of
Mumbai, when
You had opened the door and moved behind it
whispering sweet nothings
For me to find you for one
Last time.

After that day
We never met again,
And the stilled air and
it's quietness since then,
till now, have told two
stories,
One that of you whom I knew
and the other that of you,
Always unknown!
The stories built around us
Was your story
The story built around me
Was your story.
Since
with me, you wrote it alone
And now without you
I don't have a story!

Love & dance

She said, love,
like the sunrise every morning
had entered her core
and lit up her senses so 
she became the sunlight.
She said, love, like the floods
after the heavy rains,
had washed her such,
she flowed in the mud and
sludge to make new lands
where all those who had left,
came back and built their homes.
Love, she said, broke into

a dance in an auditorium,

where harsh lights in her

eyes,

didn't let her see

if anyone was watching,

or was she all alone

in an empty hall,

performing for her own sake! 

In Transit

Years of being away from
all those stuffs that you all
stay with
was not tough,
since when I sat alone,
I filled up the empty spaces
left void by the unfulfilled promises
with thoughts of tomorrow,
making each living day into
a state of being, projected
in future.

Thus, when you arrived
I coud not feel much towards
what you offered
as, just during that time,
I was already in transit into another
empty space without you,
much before you left me.

This Life

Writing to you
on a piece of paper and
calling it a poem,
Is my way of
not making any noise
as well as living this life