“FOREIGN LAND”

It seems that the sourness of the season

Will fade out some day,

And the curtains will swing

Little apart to let the light come inside.

Tired sunlight will rest on my bed

Like a tired housewife

And the sky won’t look like

A big piece of tarpaulin.

Doubt on wind

Will vanish

And the water will retain its taste.

The box of medicines will be locked

And appetite will forget digestive pills.

All these change will happen

Like forgotten faces who come in mind

In troublesome phase.

It’s so pleasant to think

That memories will be covered

With the dust of happiness.

Sleep will start adoring

Full up to chest.

And recurring nightmares will sleep deep

Never to appear again.

What else is needed?

When there will greeneries in my backyard

Long up to my knee

And some day

I will start liking my exile

To this foreign land.

“WHO IS SHE?”

Who is she?

Always leaving…

Trembling wrinkles of fingers

On my image.

Who digs some rows…

On dusty barren

And sows the seeds of wishes.

Inside and deep!

Who is she?

Always growing…

Throbs on the wall,

Any my tired image

Starts Throbbing.

What complaint?

She tells to the

Rectangular panchayat of soil

Sitting behind the frame.

Who is she?

Always splashing my thoughts,

Whom, neither I could burn

Nor I could offer to river.

“DEFEAT”

No one could take away

My right to Love

And the strength

Originated from that

                         ……. Love!

God reflected his beauty

From her body

From her presence,

Constrained with

                           …….boundaries!

I could see his defeat who was

Standing like a guilty

Near the fence,

And head down….

                             …….Limitation!

Where my soul hovers

With the Love that always wins,

Which I created.

And with the body that always loses,

                        ……..Which he created!

“DISCOURSE”

Your eyes are beautiful!

I said…

It’s illusion of your eyes!

She said…

Your hairs are cloudy black!

I said…

There is darkness in your mind!

She Said…

You are the center of my imagination!

I said…

I am out of periphery!

She said…

You are the factorization of my emotional being!

I said…

You have forgotten mathematics!

She said…

I am in Love with you!

 I said…

Then I will say it importunateness!

She said…

Don’t you Love me!

I almost clamored and eyes were wet.

And for my Love she became dumb forever. 

“ASSURANCE”

Why to repose that bird

Settling in her nest,

Made inside the airy ventilator.

The sky itself is so uncertain perhaps!

Water! Earth! Fire! Wind and Space!

We made them god.

When some believes got broken and shattered,

While our meadows and paddy-land got washed away.

Fire torched the green woods

And mountains got abraded by mighty winds.

There was no God ever!

And even if he was

Has no plenty of time

To make us write prayers

And religious books.

Still we have

Piles of religious books

Stumbling upon one another

And Gods related to them in our fear.

A poet needs assurance

And we all

And the bird as well.

That single blade of yellow grass

Also wants some assurance

Which has fallen into my pen-stand

From its trembling beak.

This entire world has same grievance

That why to be reliant on that blade of grass

Which swims few meters out of reach

While we are drowning.

But still the world

Needs some assurance.

Love wants assurance,

Hatred wants assurance,

The light needs assurance

That it must be dark

Before it crawls.

Death wants assurance

That life should not return to the corpse.

Even my pen-stand wants an assurance

That there should be only pens in it

And no blades of dried, yellow grass.

Give me an assurance,

I ask to my poem.

Give me the assurance of beautiful words

It says with a smile.

             

             *******

“If My Heart Is A Radio”

If my heart is a radio 
I’ll catch you every morning, through the wave. 
Pulling up my mind to the raindrops 
I’ll sing you as a song through the wave. 
Its new time of taking up the tuning my heart 
It’s a new dimension of the purest trust. 
That my heart is radio and you are a song!

If my heart is a radio 
I’ll catch you every morning through the wave. 
The Sun and the Moon will pass through the globe 
and I will walk in the woods away from noise, 
The joy of talking with the dense forest 
I‘ll be living through a tranquil poise. 

If my heart is a radio 
I’ll catch you every morning through the wave, 
Pulling up my mind to the world of stars 
I’ll sing you as a song through the wave. 
Its new time of taking up the tuning my heart 
It’s a new dimension of the purest trust, 
That my heart is radio and you are a song!

             ******* 

“HUG FOR SALE”

Who, belongs to me 
I swear that shadow 
I’ve kept my hug 
for a humble sale. 

I’ve kept my hug 
for a humble sale. 
Agony! Pain! Mistrust! Disdain!
Fear in eyes, tears insane 
Lonely! Cloudy! With echoes, refrain. 
They come to me 
wet and heavy, 
tall but bowed in trembling pain! 
I’ve kept my hug 
for a humble sale.

Choir of halo 
away from moon, 
crisp and cold 
like a prune 
drug in veins 
though flowing fast 
made them going a dancing doom, 
They come to me 
dark and down, 
moaning as if fuming gel! 
I’ve kept my hug 
for a humble sale 

Who, belongs to me 
I swear that shadow 
I’ve kept my hug 
for a humble sale.

              *******