Sunday, September 14, 2008

sulking and not rhyming

times change,
people change,
but they change sooner.
did you get anything in exchange?
they got their own things to do,
your time is at best gone through,
so, come on apurv, lets get some life.
brush your hair and set it down the stage is set- arrive!
lets get rolling! lets get back to your old clowns!
neta, amit, cc; you've kept them waiting long enough,
beware, they are close to those serious frowns.
want to lose out on the last straw you always cling?
want to lose the phone which takes your every ring?
...
...
(pause)
...
...
huh! you still take time t think! your ship will for sure sink;
buried or burnt to ashes or a you want a coffin?
at least find some time to answer back.
...
...
(silence)
...
...
GO TO HELL!

Sunday, August 17, 2008

To thee Motherland

Move o gentle wind,
move from the west,
and bring my motherland here tonight!

Ah this sky glitters so bright,
and the moment seems almost right,
I feel i'm just home again,
so move o gentle wind,
move from the east,
and bring her here tonight!

Fifty months since i had to leave,
how lonely it is for me to live,
away from those golden fields!
So move o gentle wind,
move from the east,
and bring her here tonight!

Her that sweet smile's shadow,
will light up this dark meadow,
and for a while i would breathe free.
So move o gentle wind,
move from the east,
and bring her here tonight!

Bring along a small thundering cloud,
that rains out aloud and loud,
in this forest of glass and pain.
So move o gentle wind,
move from the east,
and bring her here tonight!

And gather the smell of those roses,
take the path that my mother choses,
coz nothing on the way you'd lose!
So move o gentle wind,
move from the east,
and bring her here tonight!

goodbye

10:29 PM 8/2/2007

The tears have dried
the fears are dead,
i bow my head now
to take the noose,
tonight i want to die.

The blind is drawn
so no more of the shallow dawn;
i forget the sun,
and embrace the night,
tonight i want to die.

The dust on the photoframe,
hides my face;
Nobobody knows me here,
so nobody cries,
tonight i want to die.

Heaven is white and lit,
but there this man is a misfit.
So wish me well
that i sure get a place in hell,
tonight i want to die.

I aint too good,
but aint too bad,
but today i feel a lot sad.
Here take your inch where i stand,
tonight i want to die.

you name it

She moves and with her floating hands
makes ripples in the sky and my heart alike,
she smiles and a thousand flowers bloom
in the deserts and on my face alike.
So by the mountain side washed with snow,
bathed in the golden solar glow,
with her i want to walk along
and write to her my first love song.
And that song i'd sing to her,
and we would dance through the night,
i pray, may the music never fade,
and i always have this orphic shade.
Those dark woods and darker nights,
the painted skies and frozen lights,
i saw them all and lived them all,
the queen of my heart made them all mysteriously befall.
Amen.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008



"जब आप पतली बर्फ पर स्कटिंग करने जाते हैं"
-पिंक फ्लोयड

Thursday, June 26, 2008

"He"

I don’t believe much in god. I deal with him quite cunningly, that is, I rarely have him in my head or heart during the times when I sail smooth and only very rarely I resort to him while crossing the turbulent seas. But this post is not about god. The opening word of my post was going to be “god” so I though I should specify my stance on god.

God made this world and the man. God keeps all of us happy.


Well, I admit I could have written the sentence in non-specific indirect speech but in that case I’d not have used the word “god” and omission of the word is something I cannot afford. Referring to god puts me in good light, theist, optimist and smiling! That’s the profile of a suitable and a paragon creature. What else does this lend to the image that I generate of myself in the speculative eyes of the reader? I must seem to be virtuous because it follows from the opening sentence studded with my reliance on the almighty that I’m god fearing so I may do no wrong. The truth is that before I started writing I hadn’t imagined that such benefits I would reap by use of a trivial word god! The same god, whom I have never seen or held his firm hands. Why? Because he is beyond my base sense organs, because I have veiled my eyes with a film of sin and more sin, etc. etc. The same god, who ensures justice, gives all the worthy men and women a place in his blessed land, but never comes to heal their wounds on earth; or to relieve them of the hunger pangs. Yes the same god! And see, in addition to all this, he provides instant mileage to my blog!

PS: the actual blog is only one sentence but thanks to god, it ain't that short anymore!

screams


The silent head, cries out so loud,
inside the coffin of anonymity.
but the masked face below the falling cloud,
lends out all the forged serenity.

Clouds of smoke driven deep within,
at the end of every passing day,
give momentary relief from that sinkin' feeling,
but in the morn, the silent head again sighs in dismay.

Try to speak where lips are sealed,
tightly sewn with the bloody thread,
all the sunshine never revealed,
the words that hung around unsaid.


Empty eyes staring the deep black skies,
filter through the cobwebs of the broken dreams
float and swim around the eyes,
but the silent head isn't allowed his screams!

13 words

blink,
you blink and its time to sleep,
think,
think that its time to know,
feel,
must feel that you reap what you sow,
move,
move your hand and sweep the frozen snow,
break,
break the yoke and breathe again,
smile,
smile for the edge of the sword,
but red,
red is the bleeding smile,
stars,
those stars are farther thatn you thought,
pain,
pain is what you have sought,
fool,
a fool is always jeered,
tears,
tears they never flow to quench your thirst,
end,
end is where you've come,
void,
and void is what you hold tight.

Monday, November 05, 2007

TO ALL THE REGULAR READERS OF MY BLOGS

Let me borrow some words from Mario Puzo- "The guns are gone, the sky is clear...turn the lights on."

Well, you people could not have missed the change in the page set-up and layout-all the darkness darkened by light is what i would put it as....

So, to all of you people who love (or loath...Craig, are you reading?he he he) but somehow always visit the page and send in your comments/hate mails (Craig, listening?), i feel it necessary to inform that the set-up has been changed because loads in my life has changed for better(and i am already loving the old-school-like-happiness) and i therefore cogitate that no more of the generic stuff which was written in my wearily prolonged phase of disdain (actually when i think, it accounts to almost 3 years!) is, henceforth, going to find its way here. (Sorry Raghu, I know you loved just the mournful part of the writings!). Considering the fact that whatever i wrote here(a large part of which i removed 4 months back) were mere reflections of my mood state/s, I am not very hopeful that there would be more of what i love to call sulk-energy-driven pieces...

What i can promise to you all, is that the regular commentaries would definitely continue.

(Boy! it is such a big relief to know that only 40-50 people follow what you write otherwise the fate sufferd by Sir Doyle wouldn't have been too far away! he he he)

Jokes apart, I really thank you all (specially to Ali, Raghuraj, Tanya, Animesh, Siddharth ji, Ghanshyam Sir, Anthony Sir, 'Craig-he-hates-my-poems-Thomas etc') for blessing this page with your regular visits and those sweet (and wrathful) opinions...It feels so good to be aware of the fact that certain people do read all that you post and find it worthy enough of dropping some remarks (not to mention the detailed reviews and suggestions that Siddharth ji, Ghanshyam Sir and Craig write for every post!)...So please keep doing that (my yahoomail is always waiting for your remarks) and wait till the new pieces of happiness pop out...I feel, it would be something good (though the past record says that whatever i felt was good recieved the sharpest comments!)

And yeah all you pieces of shit from my school days - whatever fuck i write, you people better keep reading and mailing the remarks otherwise you gonna be dead in no time...THE APURV YOU PEOPLE REMEMBER FROM THE 10th AND BEFORE, IS HERE AGAIN...ha ha ha...
"no kidding boy!"(rings a bell???)

So, cheers to a new time! (clap, clap, clap)

Thursday, November 01, 2007

sulkingly yours, i am, sulking with pleasure!

To speak of anything, we need to know how to speak. But let me, despite the fact that this would only make my opening fallacious, speak- i know i don't know how to speak.

When the light begins to fade, it happens in a sequence - I think something just puts all the lamps blowing out in a perfect symphony. One goes out after other, one after another they go off- it seems the demon of darkness runs eating them out - starting from the distant ones whose presence was only a mere fact and their light never bathed you, the darkness runs towards you at a speed to put the speed of human desire to feel dwarfed, it reaches to the one nearest you and with a cruel smile the last lamp falls too. But the juggernaut hasn't reached its saturation yet. Fiends have sharp hands and they know the holes and pores of your skin too well. A hand reaches for you, creeps inside you as cleverly as a serpent-and to propose the idea that it actually feels like a serpent is not too far-fetched on my part as well-and with some plans, weaved and conceived in the distant echleons of dearth and scarcity, blows out the solitary lamp which you had kept buning within you. Its flame was flickering, dancing with insane energy, as if it knew that it was soon going to be put to rest but it was there-lit and glowing, with a purpose. When that lamp within me exists, i think i can approach my solitude, my melancholy, my being and have a conversation. But even then, I don't ask to myself that why Chapman shot Lenon or why Hemingway commited suicide or why do they have poverty around or why is hunger painful. No I don't ask all this to myself. I have quit asking all this now, the answers always blew in mighty typhoons and my miniscule existence was too dilapidated in its attempts to arrive at an answer, the solution definitely rested in some distant star-dust which is yet to culminate into a glorious gallactic creation. All i ask to myself, is the cardinal question that why I continue to dive deep into the waters I have long quit.

Talking of the days, which are not that rare in their frequency, when I think some mighty eddy-which probably rises from the dirty seas I bathed in when I had lost my compass- takes shape out of thin air and smothers fluidity and rationality of my thought and more importantly kills the last trundling and fluttering lamp-which with herculean effort I have kept lit till now-deep in my heart; I experince solitude. I admit the fact that solitude is probably the most loyal companion I have ever had and I think it is the sole institution which loves me as much as I love it. But the solitude I love is very different from this solitude which descends.


Solitude is the closest surviving metamorphosis of bliss but let me ask that as long as it means that you have yourself for company, is it solitude? People define solitude as being with oneself and nothing else but have you ever been able to isolate yourself? you always exist within the framework and paradigm of other people which makes attainment of solitude by caustic methods like putting yourself into physical desolation and void, impossible. So, i put forth that real solitude comes with this vortex-all its spin and twist makes me disoriented to the extremes that I fall into some rarefied strata of solitude and even lose my own company. Nothing exists, not even me. Only the heavens know that this feel so alleviating! Though I don't know whether I love it or I don't but what i know for sure is that it is something I should love. But the ever imposing trouble is (or is it?), that as the insects run towards the light in beatitudinal frenzy-I too sulk without the knowledge of what that makes me sulk. But this ignorance of purpose is the purpose that I never wish to fight my way out or look for a reason. So as long as this bliss has its enamoured hands upon my being, I choose to sulk and who says it is uncanny and outlandish to sulk? I am at peace when I sulk because then, I am no more looking for peace. Reason and judgement might find me begging the question but I believe that pursuit of peace is more far detached from peace than sulking ever was. So, solitude is obsolete-here I am-sulking with pleasure!

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

An ode to the dead spider(s)

Spin a web around me oh spider!
and yes make it a little wider,
rather make it of stones and brick,
and makes the walls very thick.

Don't leave any windows or a door,
fasten them tight, yes, a little more.
Leave no hole for sunlight to peep in,
and make my eyes roll and spin.

Let darkness spill and swim around,
and morrison's be the only sound.
Let silence deafen my soul,
and let abundance fill others soul.

Do dig a grave for me, a sombre one please,
I'll dig yours, we both would be at peace.
"Dead spider" your headstone would say,
"Dead meat" would be my essay!

"Adios mate, i killed you and your kin,
see these blood stains on my chin?
They are as much mine as they are yours,
so we had evenly settled scores!"

Ain't no use complaining,
"peace!"

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

prelude to the dead spider

"class, cross sectional study of anthers and pollination in flowers would be taught in the next class...note down the project for the month...you have to write about the process of... "

"school is over dude, lets push out."

i started the bike, he was on the pillion and i loathed him. why does he always tag along? just so that he gets a free ride and saves the money for his cigarettes? i have no issues-understandable but why does he keep his fucking mouth open? keeps talking shit...i hate those worms that seem to creep out of his mouth-smelly and ugly. eh...my sight is getting hazy, these clouds of mist, they always come out when i'm driving...i wish i could fly like those pelicans i saw in andman...free to go to the heights of the sky..."stop dude stop, where are you lost? slow down...slowww....."

thank god he got down...should i go to the hostel? yeah better i do.

"Hello...hello...hello...
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?

Come on, come on, now.
I hear you're feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain,
Get you on your feet again.

Relax..relax...relax
I need some information first.
Just the basic facts:
Can you show me where it hurts? "

light...this bloody light hurts...it always finds a way in...fucking curtains...they always leak. i will have to paint these window panes black. i would sure get blind if this window is not done soon...maybe i'd build a wall around it...concrete wall...i need more walls infact. eh...someones at the door..."whats it?...yeah,how much? i just have 600...would this do...alright, i'm sliding it out. no i'm not fucking anybody...just take it and leave." sucker. just because dad has enough money and i lend, they come to me...they only come when they need something...bike, money, books, cds, guitar...fuck...i need a wall to block this door too...i need a to build a fucking cubicle...raise walls all around, and then close the top. perfect! no light, no noise, nobody knocking, nobody shouting, nobody. these bastard make me feel that i exist...i don't...i don't want to...i don't need to.


"There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ship smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what youre saying."

do i hear...yeah the fucking dogs again...this hostel has more dogs than people...they always keep barking...am tired of this noise...but maybe they are hungry...maybe urchins threw stones...me and these dogs...they don't lemme live in peace, they dont let the dogs live in peace. they are hungry...cookies...what shit i ate them all...what do i give them now...eh its good for them rather...let them starve and die...they should curse me...i bloody throw biscuits and bones and rest is their instinct! the fools salivate and pick them up...gobble the bones like turkeycocks and survive...survive to be hit and chased...the gatekeeper chases them everyday, infact everyone pelts stones and scares them away...they run wailing...but the fools, they come back again...why? why do they eat and keep living...they should starve and die...peace, absolvere! such a foolish creature, a dog. ha ha ha ha...did i say that...man what a joke...don't i do the same...just eat to live...to be chased by people...to be hit by stones...to be blinded by this fucking sunlight...eh what shit...i'm going mad...bloody loon...stop this man...no stop this...enough...no...what crap what ins..a..n...i....t............


"When I was a child I had a fever.
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I got that feeling once again.
I cant explain, you would not understand.
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb."

is the song still playing...ya the whore it is...did i pass out? how long it has been? eh..i sometimes think i have got sick of pink floyd...they too are noise...bloody shit...exploding noise...they don't die out even when i pass out...but something is wrong...what happened to my hands...they are itching...did i spill anything...did anything bite? bloody hell, why can't this hostel have snakes?
hmm...its 11...i should go out and eat...

do anda parathe aur ek coffee....i'm still humming floyd! what whore...i want to forget everything...evrything i know...everything...floyd, zepplin, doors, cobain, dylan, farewell to arms...everything.bloody hell i keep remembering them..taking rounds inside...circles and circles and a deep vortex, flames. "saab coffee khatam ho gayi...chai?" le aao...food, bloody food again...the cycle of hunger...i can't survive it and i laugh at the dogs! if they know this, they would laugh at me...one more species onto the list...

"Can you stand up?
I do believe its working. good.
Thatll keep you going for the show.
Come on its time to go."

12:30...its already the next day...time to leave...i need to get the tank filled...its a long ride tonight...the winds, eh they are bloody bitter...this bike too must have got sick of me...but who cares, i had the money to buy it, and it is my slave. money rules...one beutiful capitalist world it is...ha ha ha...see there, the man is shivering and he has no blanket...ha ha ha...this fucking world and people say they love it...eh...stop it man...no use...build a wall...time to leave now....

"There is no pain, you are receding.
"A distant ships smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I cant hear what youre sayin.
When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse,
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown, the dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb."

Saturday, October 20, 2007

dead spider

Open your eyes- the spider is casting a web around your nostrils. The fine silk has now started to choke you. Wipe it clear. Pick up your bloody hand and smash that black ugly piece-don’t worry about the blood. I don’t know if their blood is red but it would be better if it is. Less of a mess, my blood always spills around so another red spider blood would just be fine. No trouble at all- it was red! Do I feel better? Yeah perhaps yes. But on second thoughts, do I ? I wish there was somebody around who could just keep a close watch on all the air coming in and going out and tell me if it got any better with one more smashed spider sticking out with the peeling paint on the wall. But I also wonder whether I am holding up air in m lungs. Have I been holding up since I stated breathing? What if I actually am? Maybe the lungs would burst the way those balloons went when I pricked them on my 10th birthday. Yeah. In fact that would be good too. The explosion might just clean all the paint and the plaster that keeps peeling off and falling every second. I have got sick of all this dust around. Maybe when the explosion brings them down I would get covered with dirt but I would take bath and clean myself. When did I last take bath? Let me remember…this is 2007. Last year was fucked up. I didn’t, I remember for sure. Maybe the year before that, I had a bath. But I don’t think I cleaned myself that time too. What fucking shit, lemme check the notebook- Ah! What bullshit. It just reads 1987,88,89,90,91,92,93,94,95,96,98,99 and 2002. it has really been long! Let me scratch my skin and check- where is the blade? Whore! I lost it! What did I last use it for? Yeah yeah…I cut that rat into small pieces…I remember. Man! I can still remember things! Okay, enough celebrations, I need to find the blade. What did I do of the rat parts? I think put them under the mattress-that’s where I put things. Lemme check. Yeah there they are…goddamn these fleas-where do they come from…my lord! So many of them! Haah! Where is the blade…there! I got it! Good work dog! Yeah so lemme get back to work, such an important task and I am already running late. Yeah where should I start…face? No man, then how would I see what happened the mirror is lying to far away. Thighs? Nah, too much of hair down there- arm would be good. Hmm…how should I start, backwards or forwards? Is the blade good enough to work? Eh..this bloody dead spider, what does he want now? He lost his life, he must be happy somewhere up there, why isn’t he just letting me rot? Bloody dead spider, thinks too big of itself just because he has had got rid of the gnats and the fleas? Chuck it man the blade is good enough, lemme just drown this spider and make sure he dies if he still hasn,t. Water- I need water. The tap in not running, what crap, there is no water? Eh what do I do of this shit man? Eh nothing goes right here. The vein on my wrist is laughing? Why? Because it has more fluid than I have water at my disposal? What a fuck man. Let me drain some and join the spider there, its all over now. The blade is good enough and this spider shit would drown too…yeah, right.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

as you said it




take my face away,
gimme a mask,
let my countenance sway,
into your past.

lies upon my face,
peep from the broken case,
into the open space,
kill their every trace.

show a stone to the world,
a story never told,
all the dreams you sold,
were one of pure gold.

if something i say,
the demons start to play,
lives always betray,
why you ask me to stay?

show me the way to the sky
and give a little space to fly,
my blessings are to small to try,
so rather accept my good-bye.

things to ask


mama i've got something to ask today,
before for forever,it becomes yesterday
so please listen to what i have to say

Mama why did i lose my way?
who took me on this path,
whose was this cruel wrath,
why do i burn my life,bring its end,
in the flames that i hold in my hand,
and mama when i wanna breath now,
why does this air go in slow?

mama why do my paperboats always sink?
in the still waters of the silent lake,
and i lose whatever i write on them
from the empty bottle of my red ink
true that they don't know the way and cannot think,
but why don't they sail to the other side even once?
mama should i stop taking any chance?

mama why did they take my feet?
they said this is the way to treat,
and this world is where honour comes,
not from what you do and what you show,
but its measured by the shine on your shoe.
I played in dirt and lost my shoes,
was that a reson to take my feet away?

mama why do they call me a losing snail?
is it too bad, too vile to fail,
or is that winning is the only grail?
mama how could i do what i never wanted to,
their collars are white and minne blue,
they say they are better, is it true?

mama why do they hunt me with their guns,
sitting on the chairs and smiling are the big goons,
i ran to heaven, i found a snake,
swimming pretty in the blood brimming lake,
stars are many but where are a million moons,
is my being here a mistake?

mama i gotta have the answers today,
'coz tomorrow it would sure be yesterday.

and the winds carried me along

it happened once upon a time,
perhaps a thousand years down the line,
sitting on the telephone,waiting for someone to call,
upon my future along the beaten road.
it was a booth deserted for long,
but the bell still rang so strong!

my hands were shaking as i spoke,
or rather lemme say heard, more,
speaking from some andromeda shining,
he said,"bro, no use whining."
"you got to move, take your things along."
there fell my star, and i stepped out.

the frozen wind hit my face hard,
i wiped some tears some smiles,
stepped all alone- spread my life in piles.
jumping from one to another,
and with no star to guide,
through darkness i swam.
night! o night, my dear bride!

like a brown leaf trembling in the storm,
shapeless and obscure in form,
stopped all try and let luck play-decide
whether i'd go or stay.
when you stop askin',is when you start livin'
so that dark night-askin' i stopped,
and the winds carried me along.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Where in the hell is my dawn?

I breathed two decades,
but I never knew how
time slipped in pale shades.

In my mothers cosy embrace,
I spoke my first word,
to her smiling face.

Papa held my hand,
when I took my first woobly step,
and started toward some unknown land.

I put on years and went to learn.
That day papa drove to school,
and on the way he said knowledge is what you earn.
There at the svhool-between the walls red,
I discovered and i was unfurled,
Picking on old pigeons dead.
I tasted potion,even survived venom.
I climbed peaks and looked down the dusty road,
I saw friends smiling from the cloud.
I floated around for a while and dad was proud!
Head held high, I was staring into the sun.
Never though anything could've gone wrong.

Then I grew my hairs long,
left home and slept in streets.
The answers blew in wind, I was a rolling stone
and life lost its meaning in flodded retreats.
I wrote in red and worshipped red,
I saw the world faintly oblong.
For years that counted to three,
I wasn't aware whether i lived or was dead.
When the dreams shattered and hunger hurt,
Papa pulled me out and made me stand again.
He held my hand and taught me to walk,
like he had done 15 years up-the-drain.
Watching mumma's weeping face, i fought against the pain
and with a fret tied myself again.
The colour within me was still red,
but dad wanted me to see the stars
and fly a thousands miles towards the west.
"Naah", said I and stayed in the alley.
"It'd be dark", warned my mom,
but only if I had heard to what she said.

And now I search for answers.
A million things I want to know,
Though for people around, I wear a mask
of smiley faces and they never know that
the once distant howls coming from below,
deafen my ears everyday.
The light, every morning,
blinds me and I don't see through the day.
Bullets from all the guns that I fired from the ghetto,
have come after me the way unknown hitherto.
Caught between the cobwebs of my past,
I lost her down the line and wept.
It gets a li'l better at night,
nobody knows me in the dark,
I hide and dream of the golden lark!
I fall asleep and dreams again come in reds,
I wake in screams, drenched in sweat.
Tossing in the bed i only want to be blinded again.
So with sleepless eyes wait for the morn.

Some days I dream,
to be a kid again and then
dad would teach me how to walk again.
Some days I dream,
to be in mother's lap again
and learn to speak,"mumma-mumma".
Some days i dream
of the fairy-tales my grand ma told at night,
and those walks with dadaji in the lawn.

But God is a dead word for me,
so I wish I could simply ask your god,
Where in the hell went my dawn?

Friday, June 15, 2007

The death of peace

Thinking to write,
I hold this pen,
But what shoud i write about?
Should i write about my dove?
She left her cage and took a flight,
only to die in guttural pain.
I found her body in the golden lair,
which sleeps just next to my door.
Poisoned by the world and despair,
her dead head hung down the stone.
I brought her back to my room,
cleand the blood, and rolled a tear.
Today i burried her alone;in fear,
coz there was no one else at the funeral.
As i was putting the headstone of the grave,
millions came running and they wrote,
a name on the stone of the grave-
PEACE!

Friday, June 01, 2007

Portrait hushed

The lake of aplomb,
is knee deep for her,
where does lie her treasure?
in stones of credence,
or the gospel truth?
i knoweth not,
so i surmise not.

Her vale of troth,
needs a paliside,
but the heavens lied.
So,

Weaving a dream,
within a dream,
lives she.
but tell her,
ain't no shade,
under the pine tree.

One day,
she flew,
where?
no clue!
she had,
the heavens to bestow.
but she heard,
the cries,
with no one to dote on.

Then,
Some vultures gathered,
and her world scattered,
she had to run,
but blinding was the sun!

The vultures swooped,
her flesh they tore,
but dignity she wore.

Away,
the vultures went,
and the winter was spent.
So tell her,
Ain't no vultures around,
clear is the sky,
for her to swim,
'coz afterall, she's Sunshine!
Shine as you shine!

Friday, April 06, 2007

As I saw it...

PROLOGUE


Love is a silent dreamy killer,
love kills you when you are in love,
it kills even if you are not.
people die for love,
people die in love,
still,let love forever be loved!


THE DREAM


One night, a lady came to me,
she smelled of life,she smelled of love,
she spoke,"Can i talk to thee?"
"Sing",whispered i,"Sing,you seraphic dove!"

"You're such a lovely man,so true,so nice!",she began,
"Why you live here,all alone,in a disarray?"
"B'coz i've nowhere to go,so here i remain."
She replied,"If you trust me,i'll show you the way."

"Cross the desert,come to the other side,
I'm yours and waiting,i"ll forever be."
"I'll" i replied,took not a moment to decide.
She smiled and before she left, she whisperd,"You and me!"


So,tired from the rest of the world,
I dragged my bleeding feet,
and following what the glorious lady told,
I left my old sodden,living street.


Those few coins,in my pocket tattered,
could not buy me a coat new,
so wearing the same threads scattered,
I looked upwards,into the sun shining true.

There was no one to say good bye,
so i never looked back again.
Nobody knew me,so i was not at all shy
to take a chance and get wet in the falling rain.


THE JOURNEY


One coin got me a ticket for the trip,
saved another for i never knew what?
And Ah!all the lashes of this life's whip
I thought,were behind in the dirty cart!

Before the journey started,the captain blarted,
"I have to know,why have you all chosen,
to leave behind your lives well defined and equated,
and take this expedition?i call it peregrination."

"Going for the mines across the desert.",one man said.
"life's just a journey",a sailor murmered.
The weeping man said,"Just b'coz i want myself dead."
Everybody replied.Some sourly hated life,some sweetly savoured!

At the end, the skipper turned to me,
"Young man,why do i see you here?"
"For love.",i replied.""Can't you see?"
"I'll cross this desert and my love will be there!"

The captain lokked down and gave a wry smile.
And finally the prayers were said and the journey began.
The camels trundled tirelessly, mile after mile.
And only God knew what was sane and what insane!

While my heart was dreaming of my beckoning angel,
my hands fishing for her lovely touch,
caught a feather which perhaps from the heaven fell!
And this omen,to my being,meant-ah! a lot much!

That white,moonlight washed,gentle,velvet feather,
woobled in my hand,shivered in the dry gust,
and my heart twitched,how could i let my love suffer,
when i had long back given my much trusted trust.


So, I gently put it in my breast pocket,
kept it close to my singing heart!
The captain,meanwhile,his steely eyes set,
was staring into the worlds set far apart!


The camels kept plodding their way,
deeper into the heart of the desert,
and the night was fast descending in dismay.
The captain shouted,"Enough for a day's effort."

The trumpet blew,the caravan came to a halt.
My heart flinched and my soul wept,
I cursed the skipper for his fault,
in the barren desert, a devil slept.

Under the moonlit sky,the falling cold,
I was raising my love's tender crop,
And again and again my zahir sobbed and told,
Isn't it strange that life loves to stop?

One fire blazed and crowd got merrier,
Another fire burnt,i was on the smoking pyre,
The pain the pang seemed remotely familiar.
'cos the second fire was my flaming desire!

A gypsy boy,on his wodden tambouine,
broke into a lover's strain of melancholy.
He sang to the glory of his holy feminine
I could ony admire 'cos mine was that story.

Slowly and slowly,life stopped to stir,
Morpheus blessed and the party welcomed the change.
All is not bliss,bliss is the sleeping colour,
but will you call a lover not sleeping strange?

For the first hour,my friend was the moon.
when he left,I was left with the stars,
whole night they danced and the night ran soon,
And finally,came the morn, healing my scars!

Behing the dunes came the shy orange ball,
stumbled upon the daisy clouds scattered,
I smiled in love,it finally heard my call!
And spilling my rising hope,my tent I lowered.


THE HOPE


In the distance,I saw the ol' rugged captain,
He was searching into last night's smoulderin' wood,
I walking to him,said in my fumblin' fashion,
"Last day of the journey, fine day,finer mood!"

He didn't look up,nor did he even grimly respond,
but smiled as a wizard smiles on a fool's query.
Dug his hand deep and got a fistful of glittering sand,
said,"This yellow earth,i don't know,when gets fiery!"

"Wish and pray and beg is all we can do,
but can't command it to rest in peace,
so my son,offer a prayer,let your head bow,
coz swimming through sand,is a poisoned chalice"

I listened with all my diminishing courage,
but my heart never belived his words timorous,
'cos nothing stops when love is one's carriage.
"I'll cross this dersert,let things get precarious."

So I crawled up upon my camel's humpy back.
The caravan was edgy but still ready to continue,
As i heard something, far away in the distance crack,
I welcomed the sunshine,filtered by the clouds few!

Brought with them, the sweet winds hitting my face so gently,
the smell of my lady,so far but now just a little away,
for meeting whom,i was dyin',waitin' so intently,
and now when the time was coming, I let myself carelessly sway!

I was singin' a love song which I never learnt,
dreamin' and livin' and dyin' in a world I never saw,
hearin' the winds and answerin' messages she never sent,
who knew, that the yellow ocean was about to raise its claw.


THE CURSE


Up ahead at the top of the merrilly movin' caravan,
shouted the captain, a call of distress,
"Storm is comin',storm is comin',storm is comin'"
And in the sunshine beatin', i heard my mistress.

There were shouts, shouts of disbelief, shouts of fear,
shouts of death, shouts of pain, shouts of dispair,
and amid all these, i roared in rage, in anger,
I could not believe, that it happened, with the end so near.

And then I saw the beast of terrible terrible storm,
coming towars us riding the wings of devil,
with that look of death, that horrible windy scorn,
that caesious storm.Oh that day of the evil!

Gone was the sun, sand filled up the mighty sky,
like a million needles, it blinded my sight,
to my left it roared,to my right it thundered nearby,
people were flying and broken.Ah! its mighty might!


It twisted and turned,it rode high and high,
the daggers of sand cut deep and i bled my blood,
blood and pain was all around and death's eerie cry,
and the sand flowed as a river in spate and flood.

It snatched and bit at my rugged old coat,
and suddenly i remembered that message of my love,
there were tidal waves to cross on that broken boat,
and I heard her saying,its time that faster you drove.

I smiled and nodded to the message that was never there,
letting my eyes go blind,started groping my way ahead,
tasted blood and crawled with twisted bodies near,
and mused for a moment,what it felt to be dead.

i saw the man who wanted to mine gold,
half burried in the creeping sand,
dead, he was clutching what will never be sold,
was a handful of yellow worth his life's end?

then there was the weeping man who wanted to die,
and when death came with arms wide spread,
he was running to live and constantly and deny,
was that the deaths great glorified dread?

and then from the ghost's belly came death flying me,
i wasn't dead but something exploded on my face instead,
was pehaps a saddle which or the broken branch of some tree,
i lost control and worms crawled inside my head!

the putrid smell of gorish crimson,
which ran quickly into the thirsty sand,
brought me on my feet again,
the storm was over Nd i alone began my errand.

the horses were all dead, the camels somewhere burried,
ploddig my woobly steps, into sometheng i stumbled
i knew that man i knew that face, though badly trampled-
the skipper's face defiant even when his body he surrendered.



the solitude

but i alone and broken, dragging my trembling feet,
against the sand smouldering and my wounds bleeding,
but as the desert ended and the sun took a tired retreat,
behind the oasis palms,my eyes started searching.

mad with unbridled joy and brimming with poetic love,
i ran around-here and there, searchig everywhere,
trying to feel and smell and ah! behold my love,
why didn't the skies command,to go elsewhere.

i searched the heaven, i searched the hell,
there was not a place that was there and i didn't see,
and when my hopes finally to the chasms fell,
i saw a distant shadow glowing in the wee.

There she was, close and kising a man,
the man was not me not like any of us,
his white wings shone as if made of silver sun,
and again in her eyes i saw love,i saw trust.

specchless at this unforgiven sight,
i fumbled for some words to speak,
in an instance all my life's light,
was shoved.and i was a stupid lovestruck freak.

she saw me and it was she who spoke first,
with a smile and with no regret and no pain,
"you had my love, you had my trust,
but you know a lady'heart has an undulating terrain."

"you took just too long to come,
you are so good so sweet so pure so true,
but always sweet is a distant blazing drum
and i am the ear and the drum is you."

You'll always remain in my heart,
but an angel i needed, do you know?
you, too bad were not an angel,right from the start."
What did i do? i just let the tears flow.

i said good bye to her and hers,
its different that she had no time even to reply,
i wished her togetherness for life's winters and summers,
and once again i was under the killing sky.

"where do i go?"was the only question,
my feet burried deep in sand which i didn't refrain,
i remembered my dirty and stoic street,
and its only me who laughs in pain!



EPILOGUE

when love makes you walk,
when loves makes you dream,
when love makes you see,
and when love makes you hear,
don't walk a lot,
don't dream too big,
don't see roses bloom,
and don't hear love songs.