Walking over ice,
above thick frozen sea surface,
how could one imagine,
a sunken ship is below there,
that once carried lives and hopes,
wrecked and buried-
now part of a  myth
our frozen past unseen.

One understands things,
the way one pleases,
and makes oneself believe
it is the truth.
In certain moments,
silence alone speaks,
making you aware of
other realities.
You see wonders and realize,
you need to change,inside out
to be in tune with realities;
often times fantasies in masquerades.

The water world below
has its own realities,
I see the water bed, clear,
eerie and desolate.
smooth rounded pebbles,
bearing mysterious meanings,
imbibed in their lives in rolling,
from mountain to plains,
on their way to sea.
Marked stones peered at my face,
with petrified dense smiles.
I felt a stranger, a fictitious being.

"Come on" they said,
"time is cruel,
we are trapped here under,
beds of rivers and lakes,
unable to unburden our
ancient memories
of primordial world,
heaped on us through ages."

I felt the presence of an invisible sea,
mermaids of the past,
with mysterious stories,
girls drowned and took
refuge there never to go back.
Water world is the other side of
darkness, permeated by
a yellow light in which
strange life forms masquerading as
eels, shrimps and cuttle fish,
tell you strange tales
you never want to believe.

I came up quick,
surfacing in another world
and found,
the girl i love to be with,
stands perplexed.
"Did you by any chance
find a world down there
and decided to stay back,
I was wondering" she teased.
"And perhaps there would be a girl,
who would  have enticed you,
with her cold charm
and voluptuous curves"
*"Truth" I told her," is stranger indeed,
There is a world, but it shouldn't
keep you enthralled,
we should forget it for now"
though told her this,  I didn't
name  that maiden wearing dark
whose eyes are all expectation

At one with eagle's mind,
I wish, to do this:
concentric circles around
sun's windy light.
Forest's kind,
my mind speaks in zillion voices,
yet  craves for more stillness
than all that put together.
Pupa's struggle
I feel deep inside my
labyrinths,
to break that shell
and fly out on my colorful wings.
Then, eschewing colors, smells
past the night that surrounds,
I long to be the light.
Serpent's wriggle, I become
to find that precise moment
to mate, with the ultimate
get  liberated and come to terms
with all that ferocity
that raises it's hood,
life after life.
The quest that continues
within the endless labyrinth,
is the art of  finding sea's tranquil heart;
becoming the
still center of the cosmic storm.

Her intense presence
does something tender,
to his heart;
that eludes words.

               When she speaks,
               in a soft soothing tone,
               the pain she suffers,
                submerges, goes missing.
                How much she endures,
                how long,
               he can't fathom.
A silent grief
binds them together;
he is the mirror
that faithfully reflects.
He feels now
the gentle spread of moisture
enveloping them both;
dried up skin
on his face comes to life again.
Lips, curled up dry leaves,
are pumped up with chlorophyll,
turn towards her, the sun.
                                     He dissolves,
                                     in the thought
                                     of her pain,
                                     becomes her  tear drops,
                                     roll down and fall
                                     one
                                     by
                                     one.

That alluring cloud, just a whiff of vapor
                      that slowly dissolves.
Night has only specks of light
             sprinkled in smoky darkness.
Life is a murky  lake with
              swirling undercurrents.
Love is the only boat,
      that would float and ferry us safe.

While pouring me wine,
her eyes seize me again,
a  decision dawns.

A rain cloud, I was
in one of my incarnations,
heavy and pregnant with water,
it was proud,
billowing, adorned with
lightening's golden thread,
it poured in torrents,
with roars of thunder,
then sped through the fields,
that became fertile,
farmers with their ploughs
and bullocks came out,
the fields were bright green
with dancing rice saplings

Some other time
I was an ecstatic  bulbul,
mango blooms told me amorous tales,
I voiced each in  snorous ghazals,
The rice fields were ripe,
musky scent was ******,
Women came in waves
and harvested the rice,
their songs were on romance,
ardent love and parting
hearing the bulbul
they perfected their singing.

A long time ago
I was a goat's kid,
I sprang around and danced
in the harvested field,
the cloud wanted to pet me
but she was so far,
bulbl sung a special tune
for me for a while
Looking at the green grass
on the other side of the fence
I would think wistfully,
what life would bring.

You kiss like an angel, but don't pretend,
                                       ever you are one,
(never mind, I've never met one before)
your lips taste, manna, exact,
(the elixir's taste  my mind had to invent)
When  your lips touch mine,
I taste thunder in my nerves,
(your eyes bid  me to do it,
though I didn't know what awaited)
I never thought a girl so docile and quiet,
could play tricks,with luscious lips and tongue.
                                        
The marksmanship you display in that,
would never be learned from any school of love.
You are a wonder, love  has exclusively sculptured,
to propagate its creed, aren't you a whirlwind?

1.
    Stupid  white cloud!
    no self preserving
     instinct,
    fallen in to
    dandy wind's callous hands,
    joined him
    in his  jittery dance,
                shredded in to pieces
                within no time,
                spread apart,
                pathetically spun around,
               dissolved in to the blue expanses,
               without a trace;
               not even an echo,
               of  her remembrance,
               is left behind.
                       2.
              Selfless white cloud,
              no ego left, to mar her
              spotless form,
              no urge to exhibit,
              dissolved in to the loving hands
              of winsome, breeze,
              in an ecstatic dance.
              Slowly dissolved,
              in bliss,
              became,
              one with
              the universe.

This sandstone sculpture,
soft, ephemeral, unreal,
we create every moment,
just for ourselves,
fighting the fragile nature
of the material, that
       at once, facilitates,
       and equally resists,
       is both memory
       and forgetfulness,
      harmony and dissonance.
      Tongues of time active ever,
      love its taste, than anything else,
      gradually gobbles it up
with relish.
Come, stop by,
and appreciate.
It won't be here,
after some more summers,
but it won't be destroyed too.
It would be the grains ,
in any sandstorm,
for ever.

Soaked in the silver light of your love,
I want to linger a while,
and love to tell my heart:
       here is a rare work of art,
by an artist, whom I adore.
As my eyes meet yours,
a  tenderness, moves my heart,
different from what I ever felt.

You too are full of light,
your eyes brim with words magical,
that needs no voice.
There are limits, yes, I should admit,
to how close two hearts could get.
But we could still remember
in spite of fog, that obscures our path,
that we are beings limitless.
We clearly see the light,
in which our hearts melt and fuse.
There is nothing that would stop us,
from being ethereally united.

Lovely night, soft, supple, sweetly dark,
stole my heart, with her salascious gait,
did arouse my desires, beyond all limits
embraced me tightly, put to bed, lulled to sleep,
dream, her accomplice, an enchantress beyond compare,
crept in, to ****** me in  perfect silence,
as I writhed in  waves and waves of pleasure.

You are a clear mirror that perfectly reflects.
Fallen and wounded, I cut a sorry figure.
What wonder spell of yours makes it possible,
To reflect me like this; a victor, full of verve and fire!

After a session of intense love making,
                they concluded, life is a dreamy walk,
    through hazy days and smoky nights.
                In  days of youth, passing through, intense yearnings,
                            body is in a flight, often,
               to reach the unreachable, with no sense of the real.

         Having no wings,
                         body has to inevitably accept defeat,
           she pants and gets up, he too with a sense of loss.
                             The night has at last quiet moments
                they hold hands,with innocence,
                        of unspoiled kids, lust laid to rest, for now,
                  and then, as days pass they slowly realize,
                             stillness of spirit holds secrets,
                                     more valuable than all the riches.
*Life, now they come to think,
           is a self immolation,
              a sacrifice every being passes through;
on a slow fire of logs,
   love, lust, hate and greed,
ambitions and desires that
     become ash as day progresses,
some splinters of scented wood, sandal is very rare,
the rest cheap ones, that would turn carbon and ash.

Wind keeps on
reminding the waves
something cryptic,
even the leaves
perking up their ears,
fail to grasp it!

Though wind
repeated it,
again and again,
leaves vacuously
rustled, remained silent.

The waves in a
spectacular pattern,
respond to wind,
desperately trying
to grab the truth.

Sitting on the shore,
between blue sea
and mountain peaks,
observing the grand play enchanting,
he feels excluded,
from this conversation,
that remains obscure;
unconsummated
between the wind and the waves.

"The meaning is right here,
but one hardly
gets it, unless
desire to attain it is overpowering"
in tears, she said
exasperated, not able to go beyond the shore.

"we are like waves and leaves,
give it a miss, get confused,
vision of ultimate truth is the crux,
unless the eyes are opened,
filled with light, one fails, has to repeat"
he replied, like one tasted failure many times.

"you've blindfolded
your eyes, willingly
and complain;
be patient
work on your
inner world,
let the light drive  away the night"
the master smiled as he said.

"Roaring wind and waves
fire, earth and space,
the secrets they hold
are within the inner world"

At the end of narrow path
is the placid pond
where water is still:
truth absolute is reflected.

**"Life after life,
one walks round and round
seeking that blue stillness,
where one would
see one's true self reflected,
when the moment arrives."

Everyone blind
has a sun each.
In loving sun,
eyes have limits.
Sun is merciless,
blinds any one
who  tries to overreach,
that's not a lot of fun!
After a day's
relentless march,
a spectacular dusk,
announces the finis.
Night comes on tip toes
a disguised thief,
to rob everything left
none would resist.
The world is in masquerades,
if you are lucky enough
get the beams,
of moon's cool grace-
on your searing wounds,
and sleep without dreams.
And then again
breaks the dawn,
with an innocent smile,
as if it is the first time ever;
the game continues.

We stilled the ghosts of the past,
after a prolonged dog fight.
Targets obliterated
thanks to our fighter pilots,
with their swords of light
and skillful maneuvers.

Remember it like yesterday,
the phantoms danced
an ecstatic samba,"Let's eat poppy flowers"
the chant rang throughout the dance.
The river of fire, we reached at midnight,
inner light flowed and we wept,
that was a night of silver blasts,
sky lit in brilliant white,
deep silence of the stars froze in to diamonds.

Find me meditate in the thicket of clouds,
we heard winged angels of peace ringing
silver Christmas bells, aloud.
When  the stars winked at me my being came alive
with the boundless light of cosmic pyhrotachics.
*The big dolphin jumped up  braking
the frozen sea mind,
Come now, we'll walk the whole distance smiling.

He raided
     her hideout,
             found a collection:
           all stolen hearts,
        "What did she do
     with mine?"
    he wondered
     with anguish
           and pain.
    It wasn't there,
      no clue yet.
             * She pretended
                     it was with her
                           all the while.

In this hour,
you are my lover;
purple dawn,
awakened sun,
drifting cloud,
chirping bird,
a silent poet,
listening to it.

In this hour
you are my lover;
moon beam playing,
on waves in water,
the silver  fish swimming
in languid surrender,
deep down under.

Every single moment,
you rule my heart;
song bird minstrel,
beyond compare,
sitting on a perch
in eternity's garden.

Maudlin       mOOn,
    sitting                      all alone,
                                                          in a brooding
                                                           ailien  sky
                                                    ­                   lost
                                                            ­                in  the thoughts  of,
                                                   ­                        t                              
                                 ­                   s                                  a          ­              
                                                  ­                                                r      
         ­                                                                 ­                                  s,





                       ­                             starless sky makes her feel let down,
                                                     not even a piece of white cotton cloud,
                                                    she can't  even wipe the drops of tear
                                                            ­                                                t
               ­                                                                 ­                             h
                                                                ­                                               a
                                                                ­                                             t
                                                               ­                                           
                     ­                                                                 ­                         f
                                                               ­                                                   a
            ­                                                                 ­                                           l
                    ­                                                                 ­                                       l
                        ­                                                                 ­                                 
                                                                ­                                                        
        ­                                                                 ­                                                a    
                                                           ­                                                                 ­    s

  
                                                                ­                                                         d
                                                               ­                                                             e
  ­                                                                 ­                                                               w
­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­   d
                                                               ­                                                                 ­        r
                                                       ­                                                                 ­                 o
                                                               ­                                                                 ­           p
                                                               ­                                                                 ­           s
                                                              
                                             Over hills, dales, woods and grasslands, incessantly throughout the night.

Scattered, dilapidated
       ancient monuments,
       pieces of a puzzle,
       a mute challenge,
       to someone
       who plays a mysterious game,
       unfathomable to us,

A lone girl in hot pants
      stands perplexed,
      on the incongruity of it all,
      in that vast complex,
      a tourist, with an uncertain interest.

(A curious element,
      introduced, apparently by a child,
     playing a cosmic game,
     sitting somewhere in universe)

Light dims as sun goes down,
     and the scene sinks
     in to an unknown storehouse.

                          a jumble to sort out later,
      by budding time, within an emerging star,
      in an unknown distant galaxy.

We watch silently,
      standing here, in Qutb complex,
      temporary witnesses to eternity's games.
       It looks so  deceptively simple,
       like an ordinary evening
       in Delhi.
            

In a busy street,
though familiar,
somehow seemed very strange,
in every sense,
where, in milling crowd,
each one pushes and jostles
to inch forward,
they came face to face;
different planes of time
seemed to collide, in one second,
was it deja vu strike
in  the wrong way?

They both froze in their tracks,
"I am married" she whispered,
from a time in the past, it seemed.
As if his dream shattered
he felt a jab of pain in his heart,
brushing aside his sense of loss
he quickly asked
"With whom?"
as if the answer would change
something somewhere.
*A rush of guilt, quickly
took him over,
his voice  like a cloud in the sky
dissolved in the cacophony of life-
went out of hand,
"Isn't it me?"

It's a pity, its a pity
though we hate anything thorny,
 and silently meditate on serendipity,
  the cactus, we planted inadvertently,
 among chrysanthemums and roses
                                            we swear by,
grew real quickly, proliferated avidly.
Look at their ghastly smiles, prickly.

You find them raise and shine early,
on any weather, rain, drought or snow,
when the gentle flowers all are withered ,
and sleepy, they remain succulent and sturdy.

It's a pity, fragrant flowers loose heart easily,
but  cactus, without fail, remain  alert and cocky,
It's a pity, nice ones can't fight back and smile,
look, the cactus flowers ask for nothing special,
though spiky, they make us believe we are lucky.
*Aren't we thankful, for their tender mercies?

Perfect hands, she has             
     like no other,
love is the sheen,
       her mobile fingers exude,
                               in her hands
                                          I am malleable and ductile,
                                  she crafts me
                                              as a piece of Hellenic art.

My poor, stupid poodle,
peed on the pedestal
of Cleopatra's needle
on Victoria embankment,
near the Golden Jubilee bridge.
( Oh! I am miserable!
I couldn't stop the debacle)
The poodle's puny misdeed
embarrassed not just me,
but the whole city of Westminster,
as fire alarm rang out loud,
when an overzealous constable
gave a distress signal.
It brought the fire chief himself,
who came rushing to meet
the emergency situation,
thinking the poodle was trying
to put out a fire erupted
on the ancient monument,
once shipped to England,
overcoming great adversities,
from Africa, long back.

Soft white light,
gently makes love
          to your supine naked body,
                               *you sleep oblivious.

Every time she rocked the boat,
              he was firm like a rock,
                       then, what left to do was
                                        gently rocking  her to sleep.

"Stop thief" I yelled out chasing her,
            she stopped, hugged and kissed me deep-
                                                   consummating her theft.

Walking along the bank
    of the  prancing village brook,
lined with screwpines
in full bloom spreading
                  musky scent
                 and shamelessly imitating the color of  your skin,
thinking of you all along,
on the way to Krishna temple
you frequent,
I see a surge-
a bevy of giggling village belles,
your ***** friends,
march forward,
holding the hearts of young men to ransom,
teasing me on the sly,
for courting you so ardently.
Who can stop them,
a barrage breach of
Cupid's darlings,
tailing me by chance.

   My eyes searched everywhere,
                    but but missed you so much,
     today they miss,
the crown jewel they deserve,
to be in the middle,
that can be only you always!

On the imaginary crown of them
you would have shone,
added charm and embellished
their victory lap,
in the guise of temple visit,
to worship the Lord, lover nonpareil,
whose love life is our lore.

              On long black tresses
they wore garlands of jasmine,
    can't help pity their haste
and muddled taste,
    you would have told your brood,
how jasmine would have felt,
     unless perfectly adorned on hair, those
incomparable blessing in fragrance.

A woman walking past,
                      grunting in pain, alone
dragging her feet, as if
                        it's her ****** past.
On  immaculate white
                            marble floor,
a big blob of blood
               *
                  *
                        splatter
          ­                             *
                                                   *
                                                

                                  a mutilated hibiscus.
                          Two eyes look on stunned

You didn't see the lacerations
on this wanderer's heart,
he followed you wherever you go,
drank from the enchanted pond
of your beauty, got tipsy
couldn't move from here
as a silver ray of light, tied him for ever.
Like a pixie, you made him loose his bearing,
got drunk with love, your sweet poison,
he lost his way out from here,
he loves the feeling,
getting pixilated by you, to him is heaven,
he just wants you to be his dancing partner.
Life is a wild dance in the forest,
memories of varied kind we planted, ourselves,
grow, flower and spread musky scent,
all we take away are the pollen stuck
to our ecstatic gyrating souls,
and a bit of light we earn on the way
by loving one another deeply with heart.
Pour me one more drop of that-
drink, beauty you carry so light,
let me go for a trip
to the far continent of your soul,
and merge with that landscape.

Holiday crowd on the beach
                   watches, in horror,
one slowly walks in to the hands,
extended by merciful sea,
in a mission of self discovery.
Water inch by inch takes him in
when the eyes and ears becomes still
the sea sense takes over,
a new awareness prevails,
and what does he find, now?

The sea is full of voices of pain,
of souls abandoned in water, for ever,
water is full of life, invisible to human eyes,
near the shallow shore,
sitting on a kayak non existent,
an old fisherman laments:
"Dead and gone, in agitated sea, yet
I am  here, they don't count me "
And the girl, who was full of life and love,
her lover gifted her a watery grave,
her body thrown in to water,
floated and drifted around frenzied,
the sea is her home now,
love is the most hated word for her.

The sea then erupts as a cry
waves of tears, salty and thick swell.

Yesterday night
driving back,
from a party
where, I was
lonely in the crowd,
felt lost, disturbed
by the sound and fury
signifying nothing,
talking *******
little too much,
exasperated,
stopped
at a watering hole,
to feel once again
that I was still myself.
I sat lost in thoughts,
it felt good,
so went bit far, and then,
saw someone like you
sitting alone, looking at me ,
as if to recollect, who I was
with such keen interest.
For a moment
I forgot the time and place
and wondered:
"How could she forget me ever?"
*Someone like you ! how could I think?
there wasn't anyone like you, ever after.

Someone stabbed me from behind,
they found it was my sweetheart,
I was thankful to her, as life was
demanding a price too much of late,

I wanted to believe it's her, and was glad,
I knew how much she loved me, to do this herself,
finding a solution to end the existential pain forever.
But when she came, in tears seeking forgiveness,
and my heart started to bleed, I was confused.

Not the face I saw, the world hides many things,
from me, I've been lovefooled again and again,
I thought her  words  were worth gold, a **** silly fool
She has been  slowly eating my soul, this fits me well!