Fresh Roses

When you asked me to change the
flowers,
All I could manage to bring was a bunch
of red roses, not very fresh
but made to look somehow
acceptable with generous sprinkle
of fresh water.
This however, gave the required
makeover to our otherwise
old and conservative looking house
and this also brought some sweet 
smell of roses, however stale and faint.

But like all things good or bad,
the roses also had their shelf lives
and as the morning came,
I went out to look for a 
new bunch of fresh flowers

to keep our house look nice

and smell good.

This is how we keep our house

feel good now,

sometimes by bringing fresh

flowers,

and sometimes by sprinkling fresh

water on them.

Life, after all, is a bunch of flowers

made fresh with water now and then. 

Thunder

Distancia

La distancia no es nada entre dos corazones. es solo cuestión de pensamiento

Identity

Are you the one who
in this Twilight hours, have
come ending my wait?
Are you the one who made
my breath one short of a
lung full?
Meditations now are full of
familiar noises that seem to
be coming out of a gushing
fountain at the base of the
Himalayas,
Savannahs are lying low in
the strong breeze from a
Westerly wind
dangerously exposing the
lone hunter's crouched shape.
Footsteps are heard miles
away, as if someone has just
entered my driveway, and
long lost whispers are back
in the air, shaping the
music of love.
Or, are you the one whom I lost
forever, but now
reincarnated by my dreams
and the tenacity of the God!
These signs are not unknown
to me,
This scent
This unmistakable ruffle of
streaked hair
This soft murmur from half
open lips,
are telling me that it's you
It's you and
It's you,
the figment of imagination
that drove my life from then
till now.

Dream within a dream

Dreams
and the science of it,
don't have any set of
established rules.
One cannot say so easily
what dreams can bring
at times
and it is certainly always not
about
what one thinks all the time.
It brings unknown matters
as also, matters that are not
at all close to us.
I often wonder if dreams
are also some kind of a
communication, like someone
is trying to say something,
trying to get in touch
with me,
or whether someone is
saying goodbye.
But what I don't like about
dream is, when it
brings at times, some
truths that I fear and
some truths that
are lies.
And strange enough,
in most of them,
you always come as
someone, who I always
wanted you to be,
A dream within a dream!

Holy Pyre

I could see the log fire
at the end of the
vast unrestricted view
from here, up to the horizon.
It was night time
it was cold
it had dry air blowing
from behind me
and making me sway
with its whispering chill.
I wanted to go near the fire
hoping that it would
warm me up.
Not that I didn't feel its
mild heat touching my face,
but I wanted more
as my body was stiff,
because I had frostbite
all over my naked self .

And then I ran.

My body wouldn't let me
I fell
I got up
I limped
I crawled
And I dragged myself.
And when I was there
I jumped
inside the amber colour fire,
and I immediately knew
I had gone too far.

That was my holy pyre
And that was your Nirvana!

Morning Dews

If you are clever,
You don't need to be
In love.
You need to be
Buying and selling fake
Jewelry in Miami.
Love doesn't need
Intelligence, it only needs
Morning dews on a
blade of grass.
If you can bring me
those dews,
I will show you how to
Colour them in love!

Again and again

I was killed in my last life.
And I distinctly remember it was
her, who put the final stroke
Of the dagger
Deep into my heart.
The last thing that I
Remembered
Just before I passed out,
Was her swaggering walk
After getting fully satisfied
That I was not breathing
Anymore, and no life
Was left in me.
But this life,
After resurrection,
I was cautious not to
Go too close, although
We were close enough to
Whisper into each other's
Ears and wet
Our entangled limbs, just
Like a dam, gushing out
Flood water after
A heavy rain.
This time, this life,
I had protected myself with
A bullet proof vest,
But barely I knew that the
Vest could be removed with
Her sweet nothing mummers,
And after that,
I died again.
Thus, life after life
I lived, for
Everytime to go back to her
Again, and be killed by my
love that was mine alone!

नशा

बहुत कौशिश के बाद भी
जब अमृत नहीं मिले,
तो तेरे ज़हर से ही नशा कर ली।

अब तेरे जहर से मर कर भी, 
तेरे नशे में जी रहा हूँ।

Now is the time

There is an urgency now,
not like anything that I
had experienced before,
But a kind of brute reminder
of time that is left,
and a kind of gentle nudge
on my ribs, saying
"Hey! What are you waiting
for?"

Rains, hot summer and
colder winter greet me now
with mights that they never
showed before,
And I realise that it's not
them,
but my own internals that
are struggling to hold together
a fort, that once held an
entire army of invaders
well beyond its security walls.

Thus, this is the time
when I will not want to miss
a single moment of your
absence,
Since, ever since I fell in love
with you,
the only believable journey
of love that I could
do on my own, was my
state of being of
not being with you!

The Artist

The artist was gone
Just like all of them,
After the show was over.
Paints, brushes, and other
Paraphernalia that upstage
Her art,
Strewn allover.
And with these
My own image,
That got imprinted on a
Waste cloth,
she wiped her extra paints on,
While making art
For others!

Forever

Since feelings and time
could not be retrieved and restored,
I imagined our story as a horse
painted by a famous artist
where limbs were shown
on the canvas as 
separated by unconquered spaces.
It was like an one act play with one
actor forever looking for
the other one. Just like the 
limbs of the horse spread 
all over the canvas, one forever 
looking for the other to get connected.
Imagining our story as such
a surrealist painting
gave me a lot of foresight
Because next time,
I would be the painter of that horse
who will bring all the limbs together,
since by then, I will know
how to paint.
x