The gulmohor beside my window*

The gulmohor beside my window------------------------------------------------------Most of the year she stands like a known Too familiar one,A tree like others that surround our house,Giving company to other trees,Winter, autumn, summer, She stands by and large quietBarring those mild rustleThat breeze stirs up in her,She stands as if looking at meThrough my window of bedroom,Knowing exactly what novels do I read on my sleepless nights,What movies I do watch of lonely evenings,Which ways I adore my wife,Knowing the colors of cushions and bedspread,And also of curtains which sometimes stand between her and me,Like veil, But come springShe will break out into red lustrous hues,She will deck herself up so gaudilyThat I simply can't move away my stare from her,I gaze and gaze like some one struck by beauty,Come spring,She turns into a fairyAnd gives me wonderous sense of love. * published in The Indian Periodical, May 2018

A letter to belle amie

A letter to belle amie
Thought for months
To sit at my desk
And write a long letter
To your address,
Facing the window
The gulmohor tree
Redness when will spread
All over me,
Thought to write a letter
Long and wide
Catching my mind's lull
And its high tide,
Thought to arrange alphabets
One after another
Thought to write archaic
Dipping in ink my feather,
But then these days
Time slips away
Like water through fingers
Absolutely slippery,
Thought to write you
How the moon drenched me
From my neighbour's third floor
Coming home, with glee,
Thought to ask you
'How are you going
From your nights of hope
To depressive mornings?'
Thought to write to you
'What you have cooked?
This weekend, pasta?
Or just chicken corn soup?'
Thought to ask you
So many other things
Like what new fiction you read
Which album did you bring?
But time just slips away
As it always does
Through my fingers
So sieve like, porous.

The Muse Eternal

Had I not been so induced
Love, by your blessed words
You , wouldn't have been my muse
And I wouldn't have composed verse,
Where would then all my words go
For whom would I then write
Where would then my dreams I sow
How would I then feel the starry night?
Had you been not that one with rhyme
How could I have that epiphany found
And felt in every inch of heart the sublime
And by that in poems got more so bound?
Had You been not the One with providence
Where could I have found my poetic sense?

Exotic purple

You wore purple on you all through
Lavender of one kind that settled
You gave me the exotic view
Of lands where you proved your mettle,
You told me how day and night
You worked to fill your home with smiles
You told me how you put up a fight
And walked alone several miles,
Then you rose to see the day
Like a warrior princess true
Before you as meadows lay
With flowers blooming for you,
Then you took a stroll on the lea
Like an angel of a fantasy.

Few lines written on a sojourn to country

The sprawling fields green came open
To us once we moved through the forest
Cottages that stood in the day's flame
Looked like perfect places to rest,
The rhythmic beats of drum
Filtered through foliage thick
And as they to us did come
We thought what was that music,
And then the day gradually waned
As wane our minds and limbs
We thought of all that had been profaned
And basked in light as it seems,
Then we felt the silence of those ageless trees
And the breeze running through them with ease.

An acrostic poem

Marvellous will you call me
Over the land and the sea
I taking the spring's breeze
New like a day's lease
Arrive will I at your door?
Kite like as will I soar
Dashing down and then going up
Utterly beautiful will I stop
Traveling through clouds
Tied by string of no doubt
Arrive will I at your hands?

If I had to go away to the land of spring

If I had to go away to the land of spring
I would choose a country road through green
Red and dusty and filled with aroma of flower
Which takes human mind to that bower
Where it tries not to make words halt and burst
But it makes them wrought by poesy just,
As it is kept for ages in our earth's sacred heart
As it is kept there from that day of our birth,If I had to go away to the land of spring
I would choose a country road through green
Red and dusty and filled with serene bless
Which makes human mind to find and trace
How for years it had grown there with ease
How it had caught for years that calming breeze
And made expressive that inexpressible thought
That it always for its unfolding haply sought,If I had to go away to the land of spring
I would take in me all that life brings
And turn them into poems that soothe
As best as I by my mind possibly could
Create and leave them to take winged charm
Till they meet their rhymes to become
Songs which bear that bounty of earth
As the…

Being woman

Had I been an existentialist
I would have made a wish
To turn me a woman
For then I would find follies of man
And bear flowers on my earth
And make rivers run to make birth
Of civilisations, habitats and Paradise
I would have created  those skies
Which remain blue and ever lighted
There would I become beauty so sighted
And wear on my skin all that women had been
Wearing for ages, marks of oppression,
Hate, slut shaming, lustful gropings in dark,
I would become just a flying lark
And swoop down only to make a treat
Of women rising up to their feet.
( the photoquote attached is of Simone De Beauvoir's.)