Tuesday, January 31, 2012

enshrine love...

You could hang me to death
For my love so much deep...
But by doing so,
I , in my heart, surely know...
Your love you bequeath;

And you can throw me off like a fly
Buzzing so unnecessarily round
But I know, dear, you've rarely found
Love so booming...love so unbound!

So do whatever
Push me into the stormy river
Throw me off the hill
But please, never ever
So meaninglessly your passions
You thus ,so stupidly kill!

For I might die
And you also never live for eternity
So love me twice, or thrice...
And a millionth time dear
Till love ours be a sacred shrine-
A kind of lovely wondrous deity!

Believe me dear...
Once you our love thus enshrine
Millions of lovers will join us too
And quite a trillion hearts will also with love shine!

you and rain...so much alike...

Seen how the drops of silvery rain
Get new dresses as they pass
Through the dusky yellow curtain...

Seen how your paper boat
To my house come through the flood
Kind of unstable thing afloat...

Rain and you are so much alike
Both of you inundate me thus
Breaking often my riverside dike...

Monday, January 30, 2012

o my poet!

Found you trying desperately to write
A few lines on that colorful kite-
Flying high in the afternoon sky....
 While I, looked at you and only heaved a sigh
And thought... 'Why she tries to scribble a poem
When she herself, is such a poem,the same?'

Perhaps my murmur was a bit loud
For you turned to find me around
Just then felt how in my heart bells chime
In the movement of your eyes, how I find rhyme...

love always faces the fatal risk...

Tell me one thing dear..
  Can guns and violins play
Together, in any given day?
  Can love and hate reside
Under the same roof, without fight?
  Guns and roses
Look only good
On album covers
Together they always glued...
   But the real world
Is not a Long-playing disc
Love always faces the fatal risk...

 Still I would carry the rose
Though the guns are right on my nose...
I would love to play on the string,
With my violin I would still sing...
  Wish to put the flower into the muzzle
Of the machine gun, which my liquid love guzzle...
  Wish to die without fear
In front of the guns spitting fire!
  Wish to paint the whole town red
With my blood, carrying love sacred!

  Thus, bullet ridden, I would fall
On your lap, my sweet lover-girl!

Sunday, January 29, 2012

a woman sells herself on bargain...on the Karl Marx lane!

Saw reflection of urban lore
On the dark glasses your eyes wore...
Saw how you hide the puff
Under your eyes, as forcefully you laugh...
Saw the mark of an old blemish
Slightly visible, though with so many brush stokes furnished...
You tried your best to turn it pale
Who wants marks telling the tale?
But still the marks come open
Living with wolves in a bitter Heaven-
Has its own pretense and foil...

But tell me dear, why do you toil?
So hard really, for a city?
Which throws only disdain and pity-
To you or your sisters-all painted
Your body so much injury tainted?

Perhaps you got someone attached
With you by love, hardly matched...
So you stand under the dark
A few paces only away from that park...
Where children come to play-
With their moms and dads every single day...

What a sweet contrast I find
In my city so culturally defined
A woman sells her body on bargain
Right on the Karl Marx lane!

finding you, starry night...and remembering your sweet black mole...

Wow! with that black saree pinned
As you on the chair sideways leaned
Could have killed me on the spot
My ECG coming to a dot...

God! Your black chiffon so fabulous
Had the whole of uncorrupted Vesuvius!
Thought of going near you,
Cause you know well how in lieu
Of seven non smoking days
I to you once submitted my ways-
For you hated then smoker's pant
Specially when I on you did slant...

But what's the use of rummaging past?
Playing with the dry foliage fallen to dust?
It is far better a proposition
To watch you there on the chair so positioned
Almost  like a night sky so spread with stars
Specially I getting to see you, after  so many years!
As Vincent Van Gogh on canvas drew sure!
And Don Mclean set it to a lovely music score...

Watching you now after several years
Devoid of any trace of salted tears,
Is one of my blessed moments so far-
Apart from that of discovering a small black mole, one night, under white fur
With which you covered your back of left thigh
And I caressed you...all night...till the night did die...

Oops! sorry again to go to the past
Moving away from your starry night drape vast!
What's the use of all these things of past so decadent
Why, your starry emblem so to my past, did always bend?

I wish I could perceive your presence as a whole...
Not thinking of finding your small black sweet mole...

Saturday, January 28, 2012

its not my fault, Eve!

If I be so fallen
By your beauty fully overwhelmed
Is it me you blame dear?
Or your beauty so inflamed?
   If the apple I taste,
You to me give in a haste,
From that tree without knowing
What it could possibly us allowing...
Should it be really fair
To put me into the convict's chair?
    I saw how by that serpent lured
You plucked that fruit- almost obscured,
From that tree of the garden
And putting your bite into it so sudden!
    I thought I should you stop
From that ignorant bite
Which finally led us to that proverbial drop...
     But then you gave me the fruit
Thinking it to be the only truth...
And how could you I defy?
For God from my last rib you deified...
So I took the bite as well
To thus be fallen to Hell
With you, however, by my side...
By thus God we both beguiled!

if you sow seed of love, make it grow to a tree...

So good it feels to see you thus
Yellow saree covered...
No doubt you're a beauty
From sleep just woken, my sweetest bud!

O how you walk the road
Sending ripples all the way
My heart is turned into fast-vibrating mode
By your beauty thus on display!

Your yellow flowery flow
With so much fragrance enhanced
Seed of passion only sow
Deep into my barren desert sands...

Hope that you will take care
Of the seed, and to it see,
With your sweetest rainy shower
Helping it to spread like a full grown tree!

From your flower comes the seed
In your sweetness my love you breed...
If you thus passion sow,
Hope you'll make it only grow!

Friday, January 27, 2012

one time more let me kiss you...

One time more let me kiss you
For tomorrow I would away fly...
Perhaps you don't realize now
How my kisses kept your lips from falling dry!

But when I'll be gone dear,
Away to a distant land,
Then perhaps you would only fear
Your music turned so much bland!

So now that still I'm here
Right before your twinkling eyes
Just give me one kiss dear
That will keep forever, our ties!

Now that my heart still bleeds
And your lips carry the red
Just walk with me the road that leads
Only to love that never betrayed!

Don't be so much perplexed
Life is a wonderful dream,
No one knows what happens next
We all are just part of the flowing stream...

remember once on a lovely day...

Remember once on a lovely day,
You asked me at your house to stay-
For a while, as you spread
On your floor the red rosy bed;

Then you asked me to lie
And showed me the open sky
Of your mind so pure autumn
As the evening between us did come...

You opened your poetry book
That me to the greater heights took
You showed me how the trains pass
And how white flowers sprout from the dewy grass...

Your soft fingers played
On my chest figuratively laid
You and your red rosy bed
Left memories so much unsaid...

Thursday, January 26, 2012

when a cowgirl met a poet...

The country club was depeopled
For it rained hard with the breeze
He, the poet, somehow got into it...
And sat by the window sealed...

The time was evening though
And the poet's beer mug had all the glow
Of the setting sun in the west,
Just then arrived in cow-boy dress
The woman of the wild with holstered waist!

He looked at her drenched shirt
And the water dripping from her hat
She came banging the door smart!
And ordered a pitcher before she sat...

She took off her hat and placed
It on the wood brown
Then she untied her hair from the lace
And let it flow her shoulder down...

He looked at her side profile
A woman who had crossed all gale
She smelt of strong gunpowder
Was she a rodeo...or a wrangler?

He thought all these
As the strong wind crossed the knot-speed
She looked at the shaking hut
And looked towards the window shut
And invariably to the poet,
with a beer mug, half emptied...

'How de?'
She asked in a voice gruff
He just nodded in reluctance
Not meeting her eyes tough...

'Got fag?'
She asked him,
Flashing a smile benign
For the first time showing her charms feminine...

She came and drooped down
To light the fag from his hand...
Her wet hair touched his head
And he noticed on her cleavage...
The sprinkle of tiny grains of  golden sand...

She must have been to men and places
For right that moment her eyes his met
And she realised at once his gaze so misplaced...

 But she had more to show
For she loosened the first button on the row
And took a long puff from the fag
And pulled him from the table with a simple drag
And placed her pistol on his head...
And with sufficient menace said,
'Wanna get my boobs, poet?'
He just fumbled and wanted air
For his voice was choked sure...
And she, the cowgirl felt that fair
For she laughed heartily
And dropped him down on his knee...

Then she went back gulping beer
And the poet got up to pen down something there
And just when he finished the scribble somehow
She came to him again and down bowed-
To see his shaking hand
How wrote on a paper...
A kind of  eulogy on her-
Mixed with golden grains of sand-
A few drops of  evening beer!

She took the slip of paper at once
And gave it a careless glance
And read haltingly what was on it...
Written in shaking hand by a poet...

Then she broke out in laughs wild
As if she found something silly...
She tapped the poet, mild
And without any dilly-dally
Planted a kiss on his lips...

But the kiss was so momentary-
For there dashed into the bar
Two horsemen with guns in a hurry,
And they together saw the woman
With a man feeble thus taken...
'Hey you bitch!'
One of them cried
And the poet trembling got shied
Behind the woman mighty...

The cowgirl stood straight
From her holster out parried
The pistol so shiny, bright;
Then followed an ugly skirmish
As pistols fired from both sides...
The poet was losing senses
Though behind the woman he, the coward, did hide;

Bang! bang! deafening sounds
Went over the sound of breeze
The poet clutched the woman's sleeve
And almost stood there... freeze...

After few minutes later
The fires died sudden
And the poet saw
The cowgirl how blood-laden
Fallen on the floor
And the two horsemen fleeing through the door...

He, the poet, the pistol from the cowgirl took
Though his hands terribly shook
And with full force pressed the trigger
That sent a bullet into the shadowy figure
Of one of the horsemen, who fell at once...
And buoyed by the chance
The poet pressed the trigger again
This time the fire was in vain...
But the poet was so enraged
That he was about to follow the other in haste 

But then he heard a voice faint
That put him all restrained;

He turned back to watch the woman
Breathing still and with a face so pained
Waving the poem in her hand...
Asking him for a hand to her lend;

He the poet hurried to her
Took in his arms her head
And asked her loud and clear
'What do you want my maid?'

The woman said nothing but smiled
As if she had seen her love
As if she could die now in peace
Only at the end of such a sweet skirmish!

Then she collapsed on his hands
 With her grip loosening...
The poem fell on the floor, o dear!
 So much  blood ...with sand mixed...

The Republic...

You claim with so much of surety-'We're a republic!'
I look at your face so with pride flourished
Though unmistakably, the old and the sick
And, on the streets, so many children linger malnourished...

Your pride is mine too dear!
But still there are shames on the wall
So ingloriously printed by colors
Of blood, violence and the gall!

 I am reminded of the Socratic dialogue
As the morning comes with the tri-color in vogue
With such flurry of guns and tanks
On the Rajpath march in files and ranks...

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

my cellular love...a refuge...

My love is so cellular
She sends me messages every night
And sometimes even, when I am caught
In midday traffic at the Chowringhee road broad!

The other day I got her call
I was then at a bookstore, at Spencer's  mall...
Sitting on the cushioned stool with a book
Full of photographs of my city, as Raghu Rai took
Once upon a time when the city was all
Black and white and without buildings tall;
Luckily, my cellular love is so good
For she through the phone stood
By me and my paintbrush and pen
Helping me often to get rid of the din
And bustle of the streets full of men
And women shouting and fighting-
As if the world is at its end!

She, my love, comes to me as the sexiest voice
Through my cell-phone keeping me moist,
Even when I am standing under the scorching heat
Without a tree, and thinking every time to beat a retreat!

My love, is so cellular and wavy
That she helps me to unload the heart so heavy...
She helps me to find trees and the garden
Like an idea so overwhelmingly sudden-
Even when I am lost in the crowd
And deafened almost by the city so loud!


Tuesday, January 24, 2012

the future state...a reflection...

He looked into the future state
There he found how his destiny has set
Him up to meet the girl at 'The Roxy';
    There, so strangely, he found his proxy
Waiting for minutes one and half
Taking his cloudy sensory puff
And  waiting and waiting in a brown jacket
Time and again tossing his cigarette packet...
A kind of restless existence...
And thus he looked into his future tense!
    His future- the girl at The Roxy bar
Came in view soon  from thousand miles far,
Her hair still carrying the salty smell
And the ocean of time had stories to tell,
He looked into his future state thus
Letting the past and the present pass...
But he knew everytime he would look
The futuristic picture a little shook;
    A kind of reflection that changes a bit
Every time one decides to have a look at it!

Monday, January 23, 2012

the painter, the moonlight and the creation...

Seen her on my bed
So by moon light drenched...
So perfect shape of a woman...my god!
The very sight sent shivers to my heart and bod!
Thought of touching her mirage once,
Thought of pleading her to take my body for a dance!
Thought of feeling her curvacious frame,
But gripped with a kind of lustrous shame;

So went out of the room closing the doors
Took up the pastel to paint a lustful course...
Painted her putting in all my emotive self
Deeper and deeper I into paints delved...
Soon the paints took over me
My lust and love provided me the key
To explore the feminine form in its most adorable shape
A figure on the canvas under a white transparent drape
Soon emerged so beautifully true!
Thus the woman under moonlight me woo...

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Los and Urizen...

The fight between Los and Urizen
Is not what I here do pen...
I only wish, to present dear,
How love and reason fight
With all their strength and might...

Los had an emanation,
Enitharmon was her name,
And together they lived in peace-
As a man lives with his dame...

This Los had a rival arch
And with spear towards Los
He would forever march...
He was none but Urizen
And he stood for only reason!
But Los had a strong mind
Which helped him poetry find...
Everywhere...on the trees..on flowers
In dry hot winds...in heavy showers...

As  Los and Urizen fought
On who would control human thought...
Enitharmon, the coolest maid
Kept her winning idea perfectly laid...
She knew Los could win anyday
If his imagination didn't run astray...
So she spread her magic spell to check
Los from making the gravest mistake
Of flying away, forgetting the fight...
And thus, stopped him from his fanciful flight!

Los thus won the battle of sorts
But Urizen was not all lost
He could come back with vengeful thrust
And throw imagination to the dust!

naughty legs...

Your waxed legs
They tell me stories...
When you place them side by side
I know you got no worries;

But sometimes you put them strategically one over another-
Crosslegged...that is the situation which put me in doubt and fear!
Are you thinking of a plan?
To put me under the forever ban?
Or are you sexed up inside
And holding on to your posture tight?
However, I love most
When your legs by my legs you place
Over and below...
In and out...
You're so naughty then...without doubt!

your eyes help me take a galactic tour...

Seen your eyes dear
But not your face
For you did brace
That black, nonsensical shawl
Right over your face...
Covering your beauteous all!

Yes! I know...dear...
The wind was unruly and cold
Perhaps that did deter you from coming out
But have you ever thought what your eyes me told?

 Your eyes...weren't they quick?
Didn't they carry that feeling of being the love-sick?
Tell me...dear...
Why did you stare-
With that smile in your eyes?
Why did you send the fire to the ice?

Perhaps I did mistake
Putting you so at my life's stake!
Perhaps you're from Venus
And I'm from Mars...
 And your eyes had love so scarce...

But (through you) admit I must-
That I saw the whole of the Universe!
Probably met a few blackholes and the Nebula
And...(surely!) I  reached  for the stars...

killed my body and took my soul...

You could have stabbed me with a knife...
But instead, you came with a feathery thing
To play on my skin
To make me on you lean...

You could have been a bit brutal!
But instead, what you did
Never did I in your eyes read...
You touched my heart
In such a careless way
That found in my frozen lake...
The darling blossoms of May;

You could have been very cruel
But perhaps you came not to fight a duel
For your swords were of chocolate made
And how your sweetness with me you trade!

You could have blown me off
By a negligent remark
Or by your agonised look...
But instead of those, you took
The most subtle way to kill
Choosing the softest,the slowest...the death-pill!

You came to me to touch my body
Before you touched my mind
Or it might be the case
That in my body your soul did you find!

So you chose to kill me
But took my soul true!
For it had all of you!

sunday morn

Woke up from bed
With a bubbling heart
'Today is Sunday! dad!'
My baby girl gushed;
And I knew then and there
We got all the time to spare-
To go about the way we would like
For today, the clock never strike
For us to be on certain task...
We today would just bask
Under the yellow sun-
And get our lovely tan;
 Thought we would go for a ride
Or we would watch the noon-tide
Sitting by our river wide
Or would take to the park our stride!
Thought of so many other plans
Should we go out for a merry dance?
 But I just took my girl's shoulder
And lifted up to hold her...
To help her see the big vast world
As drenched by the Sun-rays gold!

Saturday, January 21, 2012


Wish to carry you to a different dawn
With no rattling sounds of the machinegun
Firing bullets so fast like rain,
And bombs falling like big balls of fire from Heaven!

Wish to take you to another night
As lucid as the music light
Played on piano or xylophone
And love's worth would you be properly shown...

Wish to make a wooden hut right in the middle
Of a corn-filled field where we would settle
You and me and only peace
 With Love never going amiss!

Wish this picture fine
Would be yours and be mine!
Wish we would be back to the state
Where we first under the Halley's comet met!

to the lake and the trees by my house so good!

The lake so blue with trees lined
Come to me every season
Just when I open my window-blind
Making me happy for every reason...

I feel happy seeing the lake
And the trees how they shake
By the chilly wind and the frosty air...
O how the trees still stand with branches bare...

I feel so much filled with fun
When children, during summer, run
To take a jump into the lake's glittering surface
And me stand right there to be the only witness...

I feel so elated, from my window
Watching lovers moving like shadow
Beside the lake, along the tree-lined path
Under the moon how they bath!

The lake and the trees
By my house so good
Keep me most of the time
In the blessed mood!

father and daughter...

Seen my child on my bed
like the morning superfluously laid...
She the child opened my happiest book
And passed orders to keep me on tenterhooks!
I watched her playing in her instinctive ways...
Prayed to the Lord to keep her there, like a baby always!

But I know she would be a woman someday
And leave her home and me- her dad, so grimly gay!

She would one day  have her family the same

And by then... I would just be another photo-frame!

don't know...whether did the right or the wrong!

Don't know...
Whether did the right or the wrong...
But still you come every night
As the dark descends with all its plight!
Don't know...
Whether acted true or false...
But still you come
As the evening falls
On my empty ink-pot
And the stories with void fraught!

neptune's daughter...

It rained and rained the whole day...
As if the world would be swept
Under the water would the civil life be kept...

I saw you wading through the water...knee deep
Just when, behind the dark clouds, the sun did peep,
You waded through the watery silver stream
And to me perhaps you did beam...

You looked like the daughter of the rain-god
How easily you could through the stream trod...
Your hair all wet, your face so watered
You walked as if the walk only mattered...
I fell in love with you Neptune's daughter!
I fell and ran down to join you in the water!

Friday, January 20, 2012

pretty woman mine!

Found her by the lane so dark
She standing like a lark
Under that lamp post bright
Wearing a red red corset tight...
Her overflowing bosom shone
As she stood so haplessly alone...
Stopped my car for a while
To see her flashing business smile,
She came and put her hands on the hood
Probably she me misunderstood!
I opened the door and strolled across
She thought me another client so gross...
But I held her hand and looked at her
And felt deep inside how demure...
She had been once, by my troth!
Like a butterfly in guise of a moth
' Pretty woman mine!' I muttered slow
To which she crooked her penciled brow...
'You're still good and still you're young'
I mumbled freely as if I knew her long...
She then dragged me up under the light
And held my face in her grip so tight...
Suddenly her face underwent a change
As if she found in me something strange!
'O god! if you thought you would come...
Why came here in this place filled with scum?'
Having uttered these under her expression so teethed
She landed a slap on my face with all her grit...

slipping on God's great banana skin...

Chris, whom I heard several years ago,
Told me quite screaming so
That life is 'God's Great Banana Skin',
 But I threw the thought to the bin
And tried to wander in my ways own
Wherever found love sown...
 And that often led  me to slip-
Having a free-fall a few meters deep;

From that ledge of rock I fell
Only to be received in the Hell-
With all its fallen angels there
Swimming across the hot and steamy layer
Of molten ash and fire hot;

Luckily, death I met not-
For Satan was the angel still,
He helped me to climb uphill
And on that ledge I reposition
My body, suffering love's affliction...

I thanked the Satan, so angelic!
And thought of forgiving both the trickster and her trick...
I fell and that was a truth
And she might not be my Ruth!
So what? I moved again
For Love carries both loss and the gain!
I might have fallen deep
And was burnt by the fire and lava beneath...
But that is also a novel thing
That my love-story, to me,bring!

you...a collage...

 I see you every morn, your pretty face newly washed
By the rain from Heaven so unabashed...
 I see you also getting aboard the train
From the station Belgachia main...

I see you every where dear
Sometimes at a distance, but often so near
At the parking lot of my heart
At the entrance of my city-mart!

I see you walking past me
Just when the maidan turned into a sea...
Flooded by the tears of november sun
You walking by me, your hair tied up in a bun...

I see you wearing the green
Your neat saree so dutifully pinned
Your platform heels jumping over puddle...
Your ways of leaving me in a muddle...

You walk and sometimes run
Just by me, with so much joy and fun!
You also stop by the shop that sells
Old curio and the copper bells...

Thursday, January 19, 2012

inversely related...

Suppose dear...
You and I
Become one
When multiply...
And to be you
I must divide
The one in view!

And you can be
Much like me
Only by doing
What I do with one!

You and I
To be the one!


You and your pink bicycle
So lovely you two pair!
When you ride down my lonely road
As you come back from the vanity fair...

I see you riding your bicycle
Your tresses flowing in the air...
I see you riding past my house
Adding colors to my mind's blank lair...

Read oneday the name of your cycle...
Lady-bird written so beautifully on it
I wish I were a George Michael
And sang for you Careless whispers a bit!

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

you...my Mayday!

Felt like heard your soft steps
Somewhere at my room so dark
Felt like you smiling at me
And leaving on my cheeks your mark!

You  probably came and sat by me
And placed your palm on my sleepy head
Felt like you combing your fingers through
My hair, as I lied on my sleepless bed!

Thus you come so unannounced
Every night as I retire for the day
Thus you come so undeclared
Every night as my Mayday!

my oldest companion mute

Found my oldest companion there
A tree of thirty-three, standing bare...
Looking up the sky as grey as soot
As the pretty old spectator mute!
He has seen my every day
How I used to run and play...
How once I fell from him
And broke once my fragile limb!
He has seen my lover's fate
With billet-doux flowery on a date...
He has seen my bike rides fast
Whizzing by the memories past...
He has seen me in poetic trance
How it rained and I under him danced!
He has seen also my mother's demise
How covered by white she there lies!

parting words...

Just open dear sleepy window yours
You'll surely find how Love endures-
All the pains and sorrows concealed
In your iron chest so securely sealed! 

You'll surely get my moist eyes
Waving adieu and bidding goodbyes...
Only for a second stand you there
And for me drop a few tears...

Or you can do another thing,
Restart your computer and send me a ping!
Or send me a sms or give me a ring...
Or for me a dirge can you sing!

Thus you can make the parting good
For the sake of all our love once stood,
You can surely pick a choice
You can be mum or send your lovely voice!

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

O My Goddess! I love you so!

Believe me, dear!
 I love you so much
That feel like I get your touch...
 All the days of the twelve months of the year!
Love you so much dear!

 Even when I cross that lonely path
Or when miscalculate all of my daily math!
There I find you, my Sylvia Plath-
So confessional and without dearth
Of poesy and procreative earth!

Feel like you shadowing me
Even when I try to flee,
Even when the Great Depression hits,
And half naked, half fed men lie on the streets...

I feel your omnipresence pure
The way with your love you cure
The poor and the destitute from rot
And water the plants and trees amidst draught!

Felt you the other day
When under that shadowy tree I lay
And saw the sky so blue and gay
And thanked you for giving me such a day!

For me, you're feminine
A goddess of love divine
I place me at your feet
All your beauty as I meet...

lost in the crowd...

I saw you on the other side of the road...so busy
And the day was full of traffic and wind flow... breezy!
 And the crowd in between was so thick and fast
As rains of the monsoon last!
And you missed me standing sudden
I also got behind so many faces hidden!
The road was full of traffic snarls
Honking, choking, twists and twirls...
Finally when I ope'd my eyes
The picture of you has changed its sides!
Thus my favourite white salwar
Got lost in the crowd of ugly Malabar!
I wish I find her again there
Standing on the other side,with that stare!

she...her query...her next move...

Someone asked me, 'Why you write-
So much about women?
Have you got all your pleasure
And all your joys in them?'

I just smiled and looked at her
So true like that images galore!
 Probably finding love another,
That gives birth to yearning more!

I looked at her eyes blue,
And felt within joy again,
Just like playing a 'peek-a-boo'
As children do without feign!

She perhaps looked at me,
And got my vibes as well
For in my eyes perhaps she did see-
How dreams in heart dwell...

So she said not a word
But came forward...a lazy move!
And kissed me... so straightforward!
And took me to her groove!

Monday, January 16, 2012

missing the last train home...

The train leaving me far away went
Cutting through the smoggy evening late
And I noticed how it bent
Where into dark, its last puff sent...

I, for a while, just stood
Watching the passage of the homeward train last!
I knew I was lost in the wood...
And find, for the night, a shelter must!

But where could one find a place
In a deserted station poor!
I thought I was in a mess
And cursed my fate, sure!

'So, missed the train? right?'
I heard someone spoke me loud
Turned around to see her, my Night!
Standing so near, under a shroud...

She smiled as if she knew it well
Though, all the story was kept untold,
She came near, to cast on me,a spell
And pulled me into her mysterious fold!

I smelled and  touched her black hair,
So soft and silky, my God!
I think I was possessed by all the dare
As, like a shadow of hers,did I trod!

Thus I missed my train home
Forever, like a man,who crossed the bar,
I found my night so beauty aplomb-
That I kept myself glued to her!


Found them astray,
But loved to watch 'em play,
At backyard mine,
After that purple day,
So cuddly little things...
Weren't they?

at the Cathedral...

Walking by the Cathedral -AJC Bose road link,
Felt like making a round of the church...
Simple structure white and garden forefront with red, yellow, pink
Umpteen joy in bloom, made me search...

My love, much like, Ronan Keating,
For whom sang only once the song,'25 minutes too late'
And my heart took all the beating,
As I pushed open the iron gate;

The silent,sombre approach way,
With tall trees lined,
Reminded me of that day,
When my love on me her passions signed...

She wore perhaps her whitest skirt long,
And her lips were all so red,
And somewhere probably sounded the gong,
But perhaps I, her betrayed!

Time ticked so crazily away,
As flew the northern breeze,
Taking away all in its sway,
Alas! flow of memories never cease!

So I visit and revisit
My lanes of memories too often,
And my eyes how they lit,
And my heart how they soften!

Sunday, January 15, 2012

camera obscura...

Camera obscura there
Lying restive...a peaceful trance...
Only when the peacocks dance-
Or when the sun shines perchance...

The restive thing takes nosedive,
To the ocean, becoming the thing alive!
It wriggles full to its shutter-speed
And follows the dances to the lead...
It captures all waves spread through ether
Waves running hither n thither!

her starvation-tale...

Then she softly let the curtain slip
And to me opened her chasm so deep...
I was looking at her slipping virgin sense
And felt every moment how terse and tense
My veins throbbed right there
Seeing such a beauty all bare...
I stretched her being on the floor
So as to help opening the secret door
Of her moans and moaning sound
Such a tempest in me I found!
O how good it felt to play,
The night became a sensuous day!
O how she hinged me incapable
Whispering into me her starvation-tale!

you gatecrashed into me...

The red saree of yours that wrapped around
You so perfectly well-
As your lavender smell-
Spread into me unbound!

Your arrival never I thought
O how like that morning flower,
Shaded, kind of, by dewy shower,
Unknown love me wrought!

You gatecrashed into my domestic tarmac
Like that cross country flight,
Travel-torn, weak, but carrying the sight
Of homecoming, with a big gift-sack!

Thought of waving signal red,
Not to open my blue blue fanciful song,
To you ,after all your seven-seas' journey long,
But still you came and sat there on my bed!

O dear! you, the gatecrasher so!
Came to me like that sweet pain...
Breaking me once, un-breaking me again,
Upping me twice, drowning me once-so low!

Saturday, January 14, 2012


She ushered me in
To her room that night
Into a candle-lighted scene...

I saw at once, how the shadows simmered
On the walls...on her ceiling...
On her frosted panes... on mirrors...

I looked at the way she moved flamboyant,
From room to room
Showing me her inner side, so perfectly quaint...
Finally she took me to the table there
And the big glistening thing-her candlestick
With six flickers so distinctly bare...

'Six...for seasons of yours', she announced
I looked at candles, and their mirage
On her eyeballs, how feverishly bounced!

She made me to touch the flame...
It turned me to molten wax
Perhaps... she was molten same!

Thus dripped the hours of the night...
As the wax dripped down the candles,
Burning within memories bright...

from body to soul...a mindscape

I remember...though kind of vague
Your canyon through the mountains of Prague!
I remember your warm inside
Through which, me took the slide!
I remember every bit of the terrain...
The rough, the smooth and the plain...
I remember how my ride underwent
Jumpy, bumpy, deliciously bent-
From top to the toe and toe to top
I climbed all your hills and never did stop-
Till you asked for a respite
From the frenzied sweaty override!

Ten years since, I longed for you
And memories of garlands I did sew!
Memories so deep not bound by lust
Memories of your cries and my sobs of the past!
Memories of another Waterloo old
You making me the meek and the bold!
You leaving marks on my mind so strong!
You steering my wheel, from the right to the wrong!

Ten years long I missed you the guide...
Taking over me, cruising through the tide;
Now that you again come in that desperate shape,
I hand over my body and mind to you for a remake!
Knowing underneath my skin so fully well,
How love with that lust did together dwell!
Now that you aged, and me got wrinkles
I am sure our bodies hardly tingle!
All we need, is just a evening by the beach,
Sitting together, clasped hands and souls stitched!

oh! how you come wrapped!

Oh! How you come wrapped in a veil!
How you come with a blushed face...
Carrying so many tales to tell!
Untied corset,so openly dressed!

Your bosom carrying wine
For pitiable me,
Your lips undermine
The sweetest ecstasy!

Oh! how you come in love so wrapped,
Such compassion undreamt-
Such kindness untapped-
To my prosaic garden, so unkempt!

adios! but kind of slow...

Adios dear!
But don't go so soon!
Stay for a while
And stay till the Moon
Shine silver on me and you!

I need you by me...
Please stay there, for eternity!
You and I can stay for a while-side by side, hand in hand,
As angels and fairies take us to the magic land!

 Come'n! my love,dressed in gold!
Put me in the picture,
Put the world on hold!
 Let the world move
In its maddening pace,
But be there close by me, love,
And let others run the race!

Adios dear!
But don't run away...
Even if you decide to go
Make it frozen, make it slow!

Friday, January 13, 2012

hide n seek

Let's play a game of hide n seek...once more!
You'll search for me all over the town
And I would hide under the bedstead...sure!
And would be giggling inside to find you the clown-
Searching for me...your hair uncombed, your tears so pure-
Running right your glossy cheeks down...

You would be shaking in angst and rage,
I would just stay quiet, under the bed,
You would be walking the streets, in a daze...
And would be crying your eyes so red!
What a scene would it be for everyone's gaze
You for me would posters, all over the city,spread...

I would then just laugh in glee
Elated by your so strong love for me!

on your birthday, kid!

'Happy birthday kid!'
I told my son
Early in the morn,
He was sleeping though,
And I was taken to a slideshow-
Of the day he was born;

The day was fifteenth, time was soft,
Midafternoon, and the scene rightly popped
In the eyes of my mind,
As I witnessed the birth of whom I pined
For long, months and seasons...
Me and she had all the reasons
To pray to Him, every moment,
To us, finally, a baby He sent,
A baby soft as cotton, white as the autumnal cloud,
And seeing the first light how he cried out aloud,
As if he was a bit irritated, his long slumber broken,
From a sweet dream, as if he was woken;

'Happy Birthday, son' I murmured to my child asleep,
And to my surprise, he, my kid, out of his blanket, peeped,
And he jumped out of sleepy bed,
And on my cheeks he his kiss laid...

Thursday, January 12, 2012

on your bosom, give me peace...

Can't you see the sky?
As blue as your eyes...
And the leafless branches there
And the songs of winter in the air...

Can't you get the smell of flower?
In our heavenly emerald bower...
So orange the marigolds shine
As if they felt Love mine;

And the pigeons there play
Under the sky so blue and gay,
And the children pad up for a match
On the greenish cricket patch;

Can't you see the couples entwined?
Hugging and kissing as their love they find,
And the park of our childhood
Dressed in fur, in a gaiety mood...

There the hot-air balloons fly
Life is just a piece of pie!
Savour it dear till it lasts,
Shrugging off  all our unsavory past!

Come out of your closed door
For my spirit up and up soar!
Catch my hand as I float
Life is not an empty boat!

Catch me young, make me kiss,
On your bosom, give me peace!
Give me a chance to lie,
On the grass, with you flowing by;

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

explosion is long overdue...

Light fire there dear!
Right there at my soul,
Now that numbness spreads...
Now that the air is biting cold;

Kiss me hard dear,
Kiss me to detonate me!
Help me to burst into flames, dear,
Help me to vaporise the sea!

Strike that blowtorch dear
Strike it right where the ice forms,
Singe me with your amplitude,dear,
Raise the ash-and-fire-storms;

You know, don't you dear?
That in a secret chamber packed,
Gallons of fuel lie there useless,
With sacks of gunpowder stacked...

Just need your fire dear!
Just need your fiery code
And be rest assured dear,
I would surely,with noise,explode...

Now that the numbness spreads
Across that rocky mountain view,
Just be there beside me,dear,
And the explosion, is long overdue...


'If you blow that pipe, son...'
My father told me one morn;
'Blow it always with your soul
Only then it reaches its goal...'
Saying this my dad smiled,
And the breeze of spring blew mild,
I nodded looking at him,
As if I was in half-dream;
Days passed as hours went
With many an instrument time spent,
At last one evening I found a song
After wasting my search for too long,
Walking across the sands white,
Under a starry, moonlit night,
Flowing almost like a leaf astray
Right there at the ocean's bay...
I took my pipe up my mouth,
And looked at the direction South,
From where the leaf was borne,
From some branch surely torn,
And blew the first gush of air,
Through its cylinder, loud and clear,
The air blew through its way,
And clearly went far from bay,
I kept blowing my song of love,
That perhaps reached the sky above,
For the stars smiled at me,
And the moon shone across the sea,
As if I was in a fairy land,
And so beautiful looked the white sand!
And that fairy, leafy distant thing,
For whom destined was I to sing...
 Came afloat to me so pure,
Only love could hold such lure,
 She came rushing in,
As if she was the wildest thing,
She came to me to sweep me off-
My feet, and held me in air aloft,
I was about to lose my senses then,
And thought 'Was it joy or pain?'
She soared and soared with me high
Methought we would soon reach the sky,
She with me flew over to wondrous place,
Where poems and music only grace,
All things were full of joy,
The king's and the labourer's boy...
Both they played with equal hap,
From nature they gained their life's sap!

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

sinfully yours...

Dear miss pink,
Sorry for I gaped at you,
But your beauty was the only chink
In your stony, too apparent, outward view;

I'm sorry for my gaze
Looking at you like a man in a trance,
For your smile had that capricious maze
That sent me out in the rain to dance!

I'm sorry for being so curious
To get to know you up close,
Why there's a hint of morning tears?
Why so dry appears that lovely rose?

Are you amused by my look?
Are you happy deep inside?
Why in your hand there's a tragic book?
Why your eyes joy belied?

I wish I know everything...
What you read and write in Spring...
What do you in Autumn sing...
What does, to your lips, that smile bring...

What of Summer do you like-
The mango juice or the colors gay?
Do you hit the roads on bike?
As I do every other day?

Now I think my letter ends
With a note of childish hope,
Your presence only happiness sends
Though some joys are too hard to cope!

Sinfully yours, here I sign
Off your page so pink!
Forgive this writeup as a madness mine
But a man can only in a woman sink!

Sunday, January 8, 2012

the cloud...

Why do I find you everywhere?
In geography books of standard seven,
In Steve Jobs' last great damn work even...
In Aristophanes' works also, I swear!
I find you written everywhere!
 In a form of a poem or a prose,
On the eyes of my lovely red, red rose;
Cloud! you stay like an idea fine,
Of a server unique or of life divine!
I find you as the woman and the cult,
Sometimes as the Nimbus, so difficult!
Cloud is a form of colloid-state
In which tiny drops of water mate!
Cloud is a stroke of his paintbrush,
On the painter's white-n-blue canvas...
Cloud is also a State of mind,
Of mere mortals,caught in daily grind! 

Saturday, January 7, 2012

the brook...

Under the canopied sky...
The light so dim...
I saw her passing by,
Almost like a turbulent stream;

Her face had that void look
The glitter of something burnt for long;
Her face reminded me of a brook
That paved its way through stones strong;

The dark and bright her leather coat
With her face glossed over,
I could've taken my country boat
To take a ride by her stormy river;

But wasn't the sky a cloudy one?
Wasn't the stream so turbulent?
I got afraid of the dark cloud's frown
And the lightning that Perkunas sent!

So my boat stayed out of stream
And the brook went her way,
Only left her image, there, agleam
At the end of another day...

the Baronci Altarpiece...

Looking at your eyes so calm...
Is like getting nearer to your work,
Like a child so much enbalmed
By your paint,simply struck!

I look at those eyes again...
So much peace, they entail
Without blemish or the pain,
They take me out,on the bail...

They take me to the divine source
Where peace and love can only be,
I try to grasp the oil-on-wood course,
And the three angels of Baronci;

Nicholas of Tolentino stands there right
With the devil  down at his feet,
God of The Father, above him, bright!
And Blessed Mary with Augustine meet;

The angels and the devil
With Nicholas holding the center
My all darkness how they kill...
That work of Raphael, at Baronci Altar!


I see the cars so busily ply
On streets washed by the rain
Puddles luckily reflect the sky
And your face on Drury lane!

I see the city in black and white
Trembling, shaking, in the cold
I wait for the sun to shine bright
I see how raindrops on leaves, got sold!

I see how they run the car
Splashing mud on your sweet face,
I see how rhythm overflows the bar-
And catch you in newly woven dress!

Fresh as fresh as water color
On my lovely palette clean
Mud and filth hardly mar
Your presence, like an eternal scene!

You come to me with your heavenly bliss
Adding life and color to my city so blase,
You come like dreams which I miss
Under the dark clouds...so out-of-place!

Friday, January 6, 2012

my man...

Keeping empty my favoured cup
I waited for you to fill it up;
Keeping my morning bright and gay-
I waited for you the whole day;
I waited and waited under the frost
Like that woman in dreams lost;
I tired my eyes looking at clock
That ticked away 'hickory-dock'!
I shivered in cold under the open sky
Crying, screaming, heaving a sigh!
The day gradually waned to night
Methought the world shut its light...
Fears came as the night descended
Methought my life would now be ended!
For I saw a shadow of a Beast
I shivered within but clenched my fist!
I looked around to find a stone
Thinking of hurling to break his bone!
I picked it up and stood erect
Aiming the thing to the target direct...
Trembling and perspiring, came another thought
'Would I be able to forgive my lot?
 If this man with heavy arms
Molest me and rob my charms?'
I was sinking all again
'Should I lose my honour or fight in vain?'
Just then I heard a familiar tone
That like a torch in the dark, shone!
'You're still waiting? O my sweet doll!'
I opened my fist and saw standing tall-
My love, like a blessed man, smiling at me
With his face so brightened with glee!
I felt like crying and thumping his breast
But pretended aggrieved,and with feminine jest-
Asked him 'Who are you? What do you want?'
The man keeled down with marks supplant
All the fights that he so luckily survived
Came open like broad day light!
I saw on his limbs marks so deep
And could not but only weep;
Then he came to sweep me off
Like a feather so light and soft!
He took me in his muscled arms
Helping me to cry and throw qualms;
I forgot where we actually were
Whether it was a forest or desert so bare!
The only thought that played on,
Was the fact that all pains w're gone!
As if I got a newer birth,
As if Paradise had come on Earth!
As if the night would never end
As if a savior, the God to me, had sent!
I cried and laughed like a woman mad
Discovering happiness in his face so glad;
Carrying with ease, the feathery me
He walked the path of our destiny...

Thursday, January 5, 2012

me, your Don Juan...

I wish you are still the same
Though God knows,
Whether Time has been the boon or bane...
But I wish you to remain the same!

I think you still wear that frock so green
Aging must've caught with you-
But you're still my silver queen,
I think you still have that frock so green!

I think you have still that smile,
Your face might've grown a bit old,
But I've also walked the mile
I think you still carry that smile!

I dream of you standing there
With that bouquet of flowers at hand,
I am sure I'll get you near
As I dream of you still there!

I know I have traveled far
You have also seen the life,
But I dream of you still! dear!
Though I've traveled wide and far...

You, I wish, still hum old song
Standing on that empty porch
Wearing that your green sarong
I wish still you hum that song!

I think I saw you there
At the market the other day,
You were walking on feet so bare
I think I saw you walking there!

You pehaps have forgotten me
The boy with that restless mind,
But I am no longer that busy bee
Cause my flower has forgotten me!

I wish I could touch your lips
Kiss you there with eyes closed,
But the digital time forever beeps-
Don't know how could I kiss your lips!

I hope you still carry that heart,
That flared up mind,that ignited brain,
And your passions are still intact!
I hope you still carry that heart!

God must be the all knowing one,
Pushing me faraway from you,
But haven't you been that lovely swan?
And me, your only Don Juan?

Please don't dismiss me
As a fictional libertine,
I am your only Don Giovanni
So you please not dismiss me!

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

a traveler...nonetheless...

When I grew up to youthful best
I would ask my mom often
'What would happen to me next?'

My mama, through her specs,
Would look at me for a minute or two
And then she would just me embrace
And say 'I wish you would be the traveler, true!'

I never made out then
What my mama wanted to mean,
But her words, like a refrain,
Kept on coming back to me;

Now that I look at the pages
Filled with love and love alone
I think I traveled... nonetheless
As my mom wished me to...


She stood there
Striking a pose almost...
Arc lights white
Fell on her hair
And the arms spread like two wings to take you for a flight

Her perfect shape
Beckons you always...
As you feel the blood getting boiled with so indescribable pain of getting loose...
You move towards her...
She striking a pose...
So bloody real!
As if she would take you to pleasure-dome...
Her shiny bosom...
As perfect as those carved on Khajuraho...
You look at her every pores of skin...
Every lines and curves...
So distinguished features...
As if you feel the mind losing sanity...
As if you wish to dive into that flowing stream of  burning passion....

So sexy...
The picture of the model
On the wall of the mall...
Selling lingerie...

the old granny under that tree...

You will invariably find her there
Under that sprawling tree
With her wares spread...vegetables, eggs, flowers...a curious combination...
A grand old woman in white saree
So dutifully bound still on her frail charms...
Her face carrying all the historic imprints of the ages...

Ages of struggle...
Of losing her husband on the third anniversary of her marriage...
Of bearing her only son all alone, like a never-say-die foot soldier...
Of surviving the massacre of people that broke out after a demolition of a religious shrine...far away from her home...
Of living life truely dangerous...
Of fighting it out with teethed grit...

Everytime, I pass by her
I stop if my daily drama allows me to look at her face and her wares...
Simple things...like duck's eggs, tamarind ripe, coriander leaves,small blossoms of different hues, bananas, betel leaves...
All kept side by side on a big green banana leaf...
You can take your pick...
And the granny would never ask you for the money...
Instead she would ask you if your kid is all right
Or whether your dad is keeping his blood glucose level under check...
As if she knew you all too well...as if she had been to your house several times!
The granny is a loveable one...
She sells eggs, vegetables...
But never asks for money
For she would just bind you with an elderly affection...
Like a true granny...
She would tell you anecdotes and snippets
Of life...

The old granny in white saree...with crow's feet beside her both eyes...
With a wrinkled face...
Cobwebbed eyes...
But sharpest mind and
An extraordinary human heart...pouring out love...
All the time;

(see another rendition of the above scribble, in my mother tongue at  http://www.theboatsong.blogspot.com/p/mother-tongue.html )

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

missing that country road...

That country road never took me home-
It took me away rather!
But I miss it every day..
I miss riding my bike through it...a bumpy ride
Ups here...downs there...uneven like a mountain terrain almost!
Lined by wild wild bushes and shrubs with glow-worms scattered on them like natural pyro-art!
And the smell of the river coming to my nose...the road went straight to the river bank...
not straight in literal terms, though!
The road was potholed...muddy...and how perilous it had been during rains!
I skidded several times, went off balance...fell on its swampy surface...filled with dirt and the mud...
But then, I got up and kicked my bike again to roar away the silence of the night there!
Surrounded by darkness, barring the headlamp of my bike...acting like the only source of luminance there!

The country road...
Took me away to meet that old boatman, weaving fishnet on his boat, anchored firm on the soft grassy bank of my river so beautiful at night..my sweet river reflecting the distant lights from the opposite bank...
The road I took on to get the first taste of the smoke...
The road which led me to that old outhouse of a zamindar whose descendants vacated the house long before I was born perhaps!
The road that helped me to know how banyan tree also oozes blood of its own, if it is bodily hurt...
that expressive white sap flowing down its trunk...
The road that put before me another side of the coin of life...
Another side of hunger,deprivation and darkness...looming large over shanties...over people who spend their days and nights there...with faces so bony...with physical attributes revealing the superstructure inside their bodies...

That road of the country side I miss, dear...
That took me away from my home...

Raatri...my woman...

Raatri came today
In a different attire,
Stars all over her body
At the end of my reverie;

She, the night came today
Covering her face by the flame,
I was then in a seizure
Couldn't recognize my dame!

(for another version of this, in my mother tongue, see  http://theboatsong.blogspot.com/p/mother-tongue.html)

you are an electron!

You are a momentous feeling...like an electron!
A fleeting image...going round me but rarely caught secured!
Here you now on my bosom...
There you are the next moment
At the farthest orbit, away and beyond my reach!
You're an electron!
Vibrant, restless, jumping and spinning and dis-stabilizing my proton-neutron combination at one moment...
Stabilizing the whole affair the next!

I see you rejecting my simple stare
Which could have been a poem, dear!
I see you next coming to me
With all your beauty uncovered!

You're my momentary bliss
You're my tempestuous disquiet...
You're my ignited soul,
You're my frozen heart!

A mirage...
A disillusionment..
An evasive glow...
A pervading passion...

You're a momentous being...
Just like an electron
Spinning around my nucleus...
And jumping orbits always...
Sending protons of energy with specific frequency...
Stabilizing and dis-stabilizing me...
All the time...
Making me positive ion charged sometimes...
Sometimes full of negativism!

i love my morning walks...

I love my morning walks...
For my walk in the morn, takes me round the roads and the streets with traffic lights blinking for no one...
Kind of redundant traffic lights blinking...and the zebra crossings with no one to walk on them...
And the pigeons and the swallows on the empty lanes...
Sometimes I meet old ones...sitting at the park, sipping tea from earthen pots and talking about degrading health of theirs...
I meet rarely young ones...
But when I meet them, I usually find them cycling hard...earplugged...or jogging fast-almost sprinting...

I love my walks...in the morn...
My walks take me to the old temple at the fringes of the city...
To the river...flowing so carefree...with boatmen going out...
To the post office building yet to be opened but its long stairs...serving as seating arrangement right beside the road...for some wayfarers...
I find life getting on to its rhythm, slowly...kind of shaking off the slumber of the night...early in the morn...

Haven't I said that I love my morn walk by the lake?
The lake so blue with swans and ducks taking their first bath of the day... shaking their white feathers to send tiny water drops shooting into different directions...spraying water almost...and making curious, joyous sounds to their mates perhaps...
And the reflection of the sky on the stagnant clean water...the lake becomes the mirror true for the sky, to help her dress up for the day!

I love my morning walk...
For sure!
My walk brings me down on to the earth's motherly lap...
It provides me a visit to Heaven, every morn...
A tranquil, blessed, walk...in the morn...
A walk to get me ready for the run-of-the-mill life of the later hours of the day...

Monday, January 2, 2012

love... must be God's tricky ploy!

 I could hear the soft noise of dry leaves running across the empty road
Favoured by the strong breeze, as they were...
They must be running frantically-
Laughing and dancing...all through,
Like children set free from the neighbourhood school;

I shoved aside the heavy curtain of my room
Viewing the road below...
Late wet evening road...sparsely populated...
Only that small shop at the corner still open...
And the faint light from the display board
Fell on the road...
Making the corner a little bright compared to the rest;

I looked out to gather
The moist vapour on my skin...
Just then a whiff of air came
Carrying the smell of my childish infatuation...
I found my poem walking back home
At the end of the day, spoiled...
And her white dress so soiled
Made me unhappy;

The air must have been my friend
For I was carried to her as well
By the moist air...
She looked up straight...looking at my window...and my silhouette
For a moment, I was ashamed, by my shameless act...
For a moment, I felt I was on the wrong foot...
But the same air moist, carried her smell to me
And her eyelashes were heavy for sure...at the end of her day...

She slowed a bit, hung her head, to look at my empty gaze...
She stopped perhaps, limped as if, seeing me waiting still...
Then she did the wondrous thing...
Waved at me, she, and flashed a smile...
Asking me to move away from the pane;

My heart then, leaped with joy,
Love must be God's tricky ploy;
Happiness begets a man like me,
Spoiled someone light in me, foresee!

drops of poesy!

Drops of water on my window glass
Drops of water on my eyes,
Drops of tears on the blades of grass
Drops of sadness in your sighs!

Drops of memories come like rain
Drops of thirst on the street,
Drops of blood evade the pain
Drops of light with the darkness meet!

Drops of hunger on your face
Drops of orange paint on your wall,
Drops of stories suddenly surface
Drops of poison herald my Fall!

Drops of poesy take it all
Drops of frenzy seep...
Drops of happiness sweeten the gall
Drops of poesy through the curtain peep!

Sunday, January 1, 2012

a name so known...yet...

Heard that name somewhere...I guess...
So known...this name of yours...
Just like the known smell of blossoms that you left every morn at my door, so fresh!
Like that known sight of the dusk on your photoframe...the road on the picture going straight into a forest...
Like those known memories nascent...floating in the air of the winter, on the wane...
Like those known curves and figures on the geometry book...penciled,erased,dotted,marked- several times...
Heard that name somewhere, I guess...
So known...this name of yours!

kohl lined eyes...

'Is the food good?'
She came and asked me softly
As I was looking at my saucer white
Mostly unoccupied, being a conscious dieter...barring a piece of butter chicken soft...
'Hey! you're not eating!'
She exclaimed almost and asked someone to deliver me more food and beverage...(my glass was half filled)

I was not particularly hungry...
But I looked at her kohl lined eyes...
Highlighted brows...
'You look like some Egyptian goddess!'
I hushed aside to her, smiling...looking at her face...
So bright, soft, composed, fresh, confident...
'Thanks...now get on with your food...you've remained the same...reluctant eater...'
She murmured, jokingly;

I smiled, looking down at my saucer...
'Now...now...please eat something...'
She pleaded, drooping a bit
I looked up from my empty plate, almost
To meet her kohl lined eyes...
Those pair of killing eyes...
Those curious kind eyes...
'I'm okay...you need not to worry about me so much...I eat less...'
I muttered;
'Who knows better than me? are there any? anyone?'
She asked, smiling, quickly making her brows dance twice, quizzically...

'No...no kohl lined eyes...'
I said, and signaled the valet to serve me with beverage fresh...
She said, looking at me probably...
I didn't notice...
I was looking at my glass being filled...
'That's not good...kohl lined eyes are not always good...they might be feigning goodness...'
She said before slipping away from me calling someone by the name...another guest of hers perhaps...

I called her from behind...and
She turned, looking over her shoulders...expectant...
'Don't use kohl...it contains lead sulfide anyway...not good for your eyes...'
I said, gathering a momentum of sorts...speeding through the statement almost!
She smiled, candid...
'I'll remember...'
She said, before turning her head and taking part into an interesting gossip with her friends...
About the elopement of someone's wife...
With someone's husband...perhaps...

In the name of Love *

In the name of Love, the passion which governs All things human and natural too I rise everyday to find how the glorious sun Brings beaut...