Tuesday, June 26, 2007


They stay suspended in reality,
Hanging down from the lush gardens,
Of green words with ripened fruits,
They grow on huge trees, ages old,
Long thick off shoots of language,
With heaving tentacles that,
Penetrate back into the earth,
Be one with the soil,
In the embrace of the roots,
To rise up all over again,
Undaunted yet again,
With new flowers,
Fragrance, Which rises and grows within,
Till all the senses are intoxicated.
To gather the world and ignite life.

Sunday, June 24, 2007


A blooming bud, the petals unfurling;
The awakening rays shimmering,
On the delicate dew drops;
The soft chirruping, the lazy flutter,
The blue streaked with a blush,
Smiling shyly…

Wednesday, June 20, 2007


Unarticulated thoughts hanging in my mind,
Quivering, squirming,
Spaghetti like,
Noodles like,
Soft, squashy…

Unarticulated expression bubbling in my mind,
Diffusing, dissolving,
Tea leaves like,
Coffee beans like,
Aromatic, pungent…

Unarticulated feelings precipitate in my mind,
Crystallizing, condensing,
Hail stones like,
Snow flakes like,
Frozen, frosty…

Unarticulated words…
No tomb stone,
No epitaph,
A faint trail…
To the soulful grave…

Tuesday, June 12, 2007


Suspended notes in the air,
The wave particles resonating,
In volatile frequencies,
Up and down the bow moves,
Mercilessly on the strings,
The force produces the pain,
Felt under the trembling tips,
Of the fingers frozen in one action,
Steadfast over tearing it all out from the heart,
The seamless sound flows through,
A forfeited body.

the promise...

...is being fulfilled, here.

Saturday, June 09, 2007


Kitni baar, jab samay se kheej uthti hun;
Bohat haule,
Ya bohat tez chalne par,
Kursi par khali baithe,
Table par baahein tikaye,
Dekhti hun,
Bikhre aansuon ko pareshaan karte hue,
Kabhi ye samay mere saath chalta hi nahi,
Ya toh aage,
Ya toh peeche,
Uddta rehta hai idhar udhar;
Jald hi baandhungi ise,
Aur choker par tank kar chalungi,
Us jaadugar ke saath,
Jiska vaada hai,
Wo lekar aayega,
Ye Kohinoor mere liye…

My wizard

So often, when I get weary of this time,
For moving,
So slow, or extremely fast,
Sitting in the chair,
My arms rest on the table,
I see, the fallen tears, complaining, cribbing,
The time never yields to my requests,
It moves,
Either ahead,
Or lags million miles behind,
It floats around me here and there…
Soon I will tie it,
And will wear it, sewn on the choker,
With my wizard,
Who has promised,
To get this Kohinoor for me…

Wednesday, June 06, 2007


Recurrent loops of the wax; shaped up as webs and webs and webs of struggling existence; the spider enjoys the game of trapping. The prey epitomizes the beauty of the fight, the valour, the courage and finally the renunciation…

One wins and the Other ensures by loosing the game that “The One” wins, the ultimate sacrifice of the self is to give up the self, a complete renunciation of the ego.

The most interesting observation is to keep looking at the gossamers spun, strengthened enough to hold the weighty ego of the insect struggle to survive, breaking free and trapped again, breaking free and trapped again, it goes on for a while…

The fit of loss, of loosing it within, dissolves the struggle.

Finally the web becomes comfortable enough.

Does it?

At times it does. And at times the insect beautifully spins on and on in the web, relentlessly, almost like a wheel in motion, and tear the bonds apart by the sheer momentum of the spinning existence, by the magnitude of pain, the heat produced by the numb mind keeps the body working, there is no vision, its not blindness, it’s the time, that is swung over and over and the fate is swung around the other side.

The insect breaks free, swerves its life…

To again swerve from another web and it goes on and on…

The web of life…

I am Sorry!

Koi kissa kahani nahi kehna chahti, Roohein roz bikti hain yahan, Aur humne outraged ho kar khoob dekhein hain tamashe yun hi. Mai...